Cormac McCarthy's novel Outer Dark is one of his earlier works that foreshadows his apocalyptic tone adopted in Blood Meridian Or the Evening Redness in the West. The book is puzzling in many regards, but it seems to fit into McCarthy's scheme to portray characters without resorting to what one could call a clear sense of judgment, even for those who act in what is clearly morally ambivalent or totally devoid ways. Of course, any work that involves the product of an incestuous relationship between a brother and sister as the main plot point isn't exactly what one would term conventional in any sense.

However, as with his other works, McCarthy isn't simply set on centering the narrative on such a repugnant action and going from there. Again, shock value seems to be the least of his concerns; he's much too talented of an author to resort to such triteness. He also doesn't seem to be concerned with exacting vengeance upon these derelicts. On the contrary, one could argue that he shows incredible sympathy or at least remarkable restraint by not allowing the two main characters, Rinthy and Culla Holme, to suffer from some horrendous fate or everlasting torment. That's not to say that they don't suffer, but it would have been easier for McCarthy to exact some form of swift justice upon these two loesome individuals. For some reason, though, it does not, and that's one of the peculiar aspects of the text.

The text also features three nameless individuals who, for lack of a better term, serve as the primary force of moral clarity on one hand and outright evil on the other. They are reminiscent of the Judge in Blood Meridian, but they float in and out of the narrative too infrequently to get a true sense of their motives. What exactly they are trying to accomplish by their pursuit of Culla is unclear. What is clear is that their actions at the end of the novel provide one of the more gruesome scenes I've encountered but one that is no less puzzling for its appearance in this text. Some accounts of this event seek to paint religious overtones to explain its occurrence. I can't say for sure whether or not I agree, but I can say that it is a disturbing action that surely serves more than just to bring the quest of the narrative to a screeching halt.

I can't think of any other writer in recent memory who has created such portraits of worlds both familiar and strange in an effort to relieve any sense of comfort in their inherent notions of stock stereotypes as McCarthy consistently does in his early novels. The outright sense of horror and outrage combined with an inability to harshly condemn and pass judgment upon those whose actions seem repugnant to most creates a dilemma for the reader to try to ascertain what the right way to feel about the text is. The only other option is outright passivity, but I don't think McCarthy or anyone else would feel comfortable with that type of reaction.