Cormac McCarthy (1933-2023)
Cormac McCarthy (1933-2023):
2007 Fiction winner Cormac McCarthy died Tuesday at his home in Santa Fe, N.M. He was 89. Born in Rhode Island, McCarthy (who took on a family nickname in lieu of his birth name of Charles) was primarily raised in Knoxville, Tennessee (a milieu that would greatly inform his early oeuvre) after his father took a staff attorney position with the Tennessee Valley Authority. Although he briefly studied physics and engineering at the University of Tennessee in 1951 and 1952, he maintained that he did not become an avid reader until completing a four-year enlistment in the U.S. Air Force. Thereafter, he returned to his hometown university to study English and creative writing from 1957 to 1959; despite twice earning the Ingram Merrill Award for creative writing (conferred by a foundation established by 1977 Poetry winner James Merrill) in the process, he soon dropped out in earnest. Over the next twenty years, he wrote four "bleak" novels, all "set in the Appalachian South, related in tangled prose that owes an acknowledged debt to" two-time Pulitzer winner William Faulkner, according to Dwight Garner of The New York Times. (Indeed, McCarthy was edited by Albert Erskine, who worked on the Pulitzer-winning "The Reivers" and other books with Faulkner, throughout this period.) Unabashedly reticent in the pursuit of additional employment, McCarthy often lived in "total poverty" (according to second wife Anne DeLisle) in a variety of unusual abodes, including a renovated dairy barn in Louisville, Tenn. and a "barely habitable" stone cottage in the periphery of an El Paso shopping center. Upon receiving one of the first "genius grant" MacArthur Fellowships in 1981 (largely conferred at the behest of 1976 Fiction winner Saul Bellow, who lauded the younger author's "absolutely overpowering use of language, his life-giving and death-dealing sentences"), McCarthy began to travel to the Southwest, where he would ultimately spend the remainder of his life. Suffused with wrenching violence and hitherto atypical minimalist diction, the ensuing "Blood Meridian" (1985) initially divided critics before emerging as the key fulcrum point in his career, with gadfly Yale literary scholar Harold Bloom citing the work as "the greatest single book since Faulkner's 'As I Lay Dying.'" (At the time of his death, McCarthy reportedly was drafting on a screenplay adaptation of the novel.) Moving from Random House to Alfred A. Knopf at the dawn of the 1990s, he enjoyed a belated commercial breakthrough with "All the Pretty Horses" (1992), which also received the National Book Award. After completing the saga that commenced in "Blood Meridian" with two sequel novels, McCarthy reached his improbable commercial apogee in the mid-2000s with the mordant visions of "No Country for Old Men" (2005; a nihilistic neo-Western framed by the early 1980s) and "The Road" (2006; a post-apocalyptic tragedy set years after an unspecified extinction event); immediately resonating with the eschatological mien of early 21st century America, both works spawned prominent film adaptations (directed by the Coen Brothers, "No Country..." received the 2008 Academy Award for Best Picture, bringing a project initially envisaged for the screen full circle), while "The Road" also was awarded the Fiction Prize in 2007. Following a long hiatus occasionally punctuated by screenwriting and science writing forays, a long-awaited diptych ("The Passenger" and "Stella Maris," published a month apart in the autumn of 2022) was strongly influenced by his longstanding trusteeship at the Santa Fe Institute, an independent, nonprofit theoretical research facility centered around the multidisciplinary study of complex adaptive systems; according to the late physicist and Nobel laureate Murray Gell-Mann, a colleague at the Institute, "There isn't any place like the Santa Fe Institute, and there isn't any writer like Cormac, so the two fit quite well together." While never a recluse in the archetypal sense, McCarthy seldom granted interviews, was resolutely apolitical and remained a teetotaler after 1976. He regarded writing as a "subconscious process" and disdained formal outlines. Fluent in Spanish from his long sojourns in Ibiza and the Southwest, he often included untranslated dialogue in his novels. All three of his marriages ended in divorce. He is survived by his two sons, two sisters, a brother and two grandchildren.