I finished Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian last week. A story that follows the bloody trail of a gang of scalphunters as they murder their way across Texas and northern Mexico in the mid-1800s, it’s at once monumental and biblical, harrowing and graphically violent. It’s really stuck with me.
One of the many things I admire is its vision of the American (and Mexican) West as an ancient land, with a long history of people having come and gone before Glanton’s gang ranges across it. It helps to set base action – slaughter, rape, torture, disease, poverty, decay, hunger, greed, destruction – in the realm of something more timeless and fundamental: an examination of man and nature stripped of civilisation. But it’s still remarkably immediate. I didn’t realise until after I finished that the Glanton gang is based on a real one, which used the bounties on scalps made by various Mexican townships under attack by marauding Apaches as an excuse to go on the rampage for gold and blood.
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