"The boat is going to Texas. Only now is the child finally divested of all that he has been. His origins are become remote as in his destiny and not again to all the world's turning will there be terrains so wild and barbarian so try whether the stuff of creation may be shaped to man's will or whether his own heart is not another kind of clay" (Blood Meridian 4).
While reading this passage I too was going to Texas. While I was not going to join Judge Holden's gang, I was going to discuss it. Last week I flew into Austin, Texas to attend and present at the Cormac McCarthy Society Conference in San Marcos with two BYU professors and three fellow undergraduates.
Shortly after our arrival into Austin we went to the cheaper option motel rooms that we reserved. However, the frugal decision actually enhanced the trip, because upon arrival to our motel we all looked at each other with the same thought: this is just like No Country For Old Men.
"Chigurh drove slowly along the row of the motel rooms with his window down and the receiver in his lap....He left the office with the key in his shirtpocket and got into the Ramcharger and drove around to the side of the building and parked and got out and walked down to the room carrying the bag with the receiver and the guns in it" (No Country for Old Men 102-3).
As I relayed the scene in my mind, it's no suprise that this is the first thing Ruth and I did when we entered the motel room:
Good night. Let's hope Chigurh does not pay us a visit.