Cormac McCarthy

The Crossing forms second part of Cormac McCarthy's critically acclaimed Border Trilogy, that began with All the Pretty Horses and concludes with The Cities of the Plain. Set on the south-western ranches in the years before the Second World War, Cormac McCarthy's The Crossing follows the fortunes of sixteen-year-old Billy Parham and his younger brother Boyd. Fascinated by an elusive wolf that has been marauding his family's property, Billy captures the animal - but rather than kill it, sets out impulsively for the mountains of Mexico to return it to where it came from. When Billy comes back to his own home he finds himself and his world irrevocably changed. His loss of innocence has come at a price, and once again the border beckons with its desolate beauty and cruel promise.

The Crossing

Tobias V. Langhoff

Like the first book in this (so far) loosely connected thematic trilogy, All the Pretty Horses, this second book is about an American boy living near the Mexican border, who travels across and has (mis)adventures. And like the first one, this story also showcases the aftermath of the Mexican revolution by having the protagonist encounter Mexicans whose lives and destinies have been shaped by it.

Another theme that seems recurring is companionship. The first book was mostly about friendship, and this one is largely about brotherhood. The main character and his brother travel across the border on a mission, and they’re both affected by a tragedy in their lives, in different ways.

There’s more plot here than in the first book – there, the protagonist travelled to Mexico simply to find work as a cowboy and found himself wrapped up in several life-changing events, while in this story there are some major events up front that drive the main character forward.

One of these shapes the first chapter (out of four), in which he traps a wolf and decides that instead of shooting it, he’ll return it to its home in the Mexican mountains. At first I thought this would be the plot of the entire novel, but that’s not the case. The boy really bonds with the majestic wolf, which was interesting to read because I read this (long) chapter while my own government decided to allow the culling of almost the entire Norwegian wolf population.

As in the first book, there is also a lot of Spanish dialogue here. I wish I knew Spanish. I doubt I missed too much important information, but it should still be noted.

I find it hard to explain what I liked about this book. It’s McCarthy, so it’s very well written and has a lot of profound passages and stories-within-the-story, but a lot of the book is also slow and contemplative. Critics say this book is more romantic than his other bleak stories, and while that may be true (it’s at least less bleak than the previous book as well as The Road, the only two I’ve read by him), I still found it pretty depressing.

While the first (and third) book is narrated by Frank Muller, this one was narrated by Richard Poe. They’re probably my favorite audiobook narrators of all time. Poe’s voice is perfect for this book, although he seems a bit more rusty on the Southern American accent and Spanish than Muller.

One of McCarthy's most ambitious and moving works. Readers can expect some of his best prose within this story that is dizzying, tragic, surreal, bold, and memorable. A longer read that is worth the effort. 

Brandon

Michael Springer

Cormac McCarthy is an exceptional writer. He has a style that is very unique, and very distinct. I enjoyed this book more than the first volume of the trilogy, but so far I've loved both of them. McCarthy's spare, punctuationless prose that frequently moves between Spanish and English without apology seems perfect for writing about the locale of this trilogy, which is the border between the United States and Mexico.

Volume one told the story of one child's journeys into Mexico. Volume two told the story of another boy's journeys, which were even more tragic than the first. All I know of the third book is the two children finally meet, and I'm excited to see where it goes from here.

Ryan LaFerney

** spoiler alert **
           The Crossing (1994) is the follow-up to All the Pretty Horses (1992) and the second part of Cormac McCarthy’s acclaimed Border Trilogy, three novels focused on young American men coming of age in the early-to-mid-20th century on the border with Mexico.

Despite the singular title, it tells the story of young Billy Parham’s three crossings (or quests) into Mexico from New Mexico. So the book is somewhat three novellas in one. And while each story focuses on Billy, each story also focuses upon the beautiful, inconsolable landscapes of the New Mexico/Mexico border. The landscape is just as much a character as Billy is.

Like its predecessor, The Crossing concerns a young American rancher living near the Mexican border in the 1930s, a time when the old West is grudgingly entering the modern world while Mexico is being torn apart by revolution. And like volume one's memorable hero, John Cole Grady, 16-year-old Billy Pawson is drawn south in a nearly mythical journey to find himself. Billy initially crosses into Mexico to take a wolf he had trapped on his New Mexico ranch back to the animal's native mountains. When he returns, he finds that his home has been plundered, and he and his 14-year-old brother, Boyd, set off for Mexico to find their family's stolen horses. Traveling through the lawless ruins of the post-revolutionary Mexican countryside, they encounter Gypsy wanderers, carnival actors, horse-traders, horse thieves, revolutionary soldiers, and men of various religions. 

The Crossing is a wandering tale. It is no tale of love or pure adventure. It is a novel about the harsh realities of the world. I will say I didn't find The Crossing to be as riveting as All The Pretty Horses was. The novel slumps in the middle, but the ending is quite superb and tragic as Billy's journey quickly turns into a quest for Boyd's remains as he was cut down in battle. In an interesting development, Boyd is remembered by ordinary Mexicans, somewhat erroneously, as a champion of the people.

For as beautifully written as The Crossing is, it is an obtuse book. All the Pretty Horses is a perfect novel of its kind - structurally and in terms of character development. The Crossing is a different beast of a book. More fatalistic, more violent, more bleak, with less character development. The Crossing is less Mark Twain and more Faulkner.

 Perhaps The Crossing was meant to be the antithesis to All the Pretty Horses? And if that is the case, McCarthy succeeded.

The Crossing

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