I picked up Cormac McCarthy’s latest (probably last) novel Stella Maris the other day.
I’ve avoided reviews of its predecessor novel The Passenger (okay, maybe not all reviews) and will continue to avoid reviews of both novels until I’ve finished Stella Maris.
It’s my belief that McCarthy intends for his audience to read the novels intertextually.
(This is an obvious statement to make—obvious to the point of stupidity.)
(I am stupid.)
What I maybe mean to maybe say is that I believe that, by separating his (last?) two novels into two separate physical texts, McCarthy intends for his audience to consider the novels as an intertextual response to his oeuvre proper.
(This belief is based mostly on my reading of The Passenger as an intertextual loose accounting of McCarthy’s oeuvre—although what I’ve written here so far suggests that (based on the repetition of the word belief) my reading of The Passenger is incomplete until I’ve read Stella Maris.)
(Which it is.)
(No blurb this time.)