The Road

The boy learns gradually to navigate the world of The Road but never enough to survive it on his own. He forgets the lighter in the cannibal house. He forgets to close the valve on the windfall cooking stove, releasing all the fuel. Moreover, in his innocence he cannot understand the point of suicide in the face of something worse. This seems natural for anyone, even under such dire circumstances, but the father’s example is telling. It is not enough that the father is ready to die at a moment’s notice to protect his son, nor that such sacrifice is necessary or right. He also sacrifices himself through perseverance and everyday work. If the man’s role is a metaphor for fatherhood in better times, it is a role that requires self-sacrifice to the point of self-negation.

Over time, the boy comes to accept terrible truths that threaten to erase both his innocence and the spark of his humanity. After their encounter with cannibals, the man thinks, “But when he bent to see into the boy’s face under the hood of the blanket he very much feared that something was gone that could not be put right again” (136). The boy might grow to be a man, but there is a question as to whether he will grow to be fully human.

The protagonists rarely talk to other characters unless it’s to bark final orders at the point of certain death. Ely represents the rare exception to this form of interaction, a chance for another person to act as a sounding board in hard times.

Ely proves difficult in this respect. He gives an obviously assumed name and an assumed age. He does not say how he has survived alone in the wasteland nor how he intends to survive, though one clue is given by his demeanor. He acts in no way threateningly to the man and the boy. In fact, he seems to care very little whether he lives or dies. Consequently, the boy is able to convince the man to give Ely a few provisions.

Gentle though he is, Ely’s outlook is very bleak. “People are always getting ready for tomorrow,” he says. “I didn’t believe in that. Tomorrow wasn’t getting ready for them. It didn’t even know they were there” (168). In his gentleness, Ely exhibits a kind of surrender to forces outside of oneself. This allows Ely to drift with the current of the times but offers no consolation for the little boy who must go on to live in the uncertain future.