Cormac McCarthy's The road A graphic novel adaptation

An unnamed father and his young son attempt to survive a postapocalyptic world in Larcenet's faithful graphic novel adaptation of McCarthy's The Road. The father continually affirms for the son that they are the "good guys," trying to avoid the "bad guys" as best they can. As they travel south with a shopping cart containing all their possessions and food, their survival is constantly jeopardized by their encounters with other people, lack of food, and adverse weather conditions. Most of the limited dialogue exists between the main characters. The dark and detailed artwork carries the heavy burden of showing how bleak the landscape has become, with deserted buildings and construction equipment; at times, it proves to be gruesome, littered with emaciated and dead bodies. Neutral tints appear mostly as light washes over a panel, with items of interest having more color treatment than others. Panels that contain a close perspective may make it difficult for readers to fully grasp what is happening due to the darkness and level of detail.

French cartoonist Larcenet (Ordinary Victories) captures the darkness and harsh beauty of McCarthy's novel in this elegiac adaptation. As in the original, an unnamed man and his son travel through a chilly postapocalyptic world where society and life itself seem to be disintegrating. They scavenge for supplies they can carry in an old shopping cart and avoid other people as much as possible, as their road is littered with marauders, cannibals, and thieves. "Are we still the good guys?" the boy repeatedly asks, but as the father's desperation deepens, he finds it harder to answer in the affirmative. Larcenet's tactile inks, gently tinted in sepia tones, lend the tale the feel of old photographs or woodcuts. He strips the dialogue down to the bare bones and tells the story through images: vast decayed landscapes, close-ups on weathered faces, and lingering shots of roadside corpses and now-meaningless billboard ads and product packaging. The back matter includes Larcenet's letter asking McCarthy for permission to adapt the novel, where he promises that he has "no other ambitions but to draw your words." His work bears this out, flawlessly evoking the tone of the original. It's a worthy companion to McCarthy's chilling classic. (Sept.)

A suitably dark graphic treatment of McCarthy's post-apocalyptic masterpiece. French artist Larcenet delivers a full 21 frames before McCarthy's main characters, a father and his preadolescent son, speak. That's fitting: In the original novel, the father is grimly taciturn, while the boy is full of anxious questions: Are we the good guys in the piece? Are the bad guys going to eat us? Larcenet's landscape is the dark, dead land of nuclear winter; in an afternote, he admits to liking snow, though atop every snowbank here, it seems, there's a corpse. Larcenet's rendering of the father looks nothing like the Viggo Mortensen of the film, for, as he writes in an afterword, "I've been racking my brain to avoid any reference to the movie adaptation." Instead, the man looks like one of the hirsute Trumpets who stormed the Capitol. But then, so do all the other grown-ups, personal hygiene having fallen victim to the irradiated world of the future. McCarthy's story is simple: The man and the boy have to head south to find a place they hope isn't frozen solid. On the way, wheeling a shopping cart, they have to keep their few possessions safe from scavengers while avoiding gangs of roving, cannibalistic brigands. The son remembers a few hallmarks of the old world, praying that a dead family whose larder they've raided "are safe in heaven." Dad, meanwhile, is full of more instructive notes: "You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget," he remarks amid an endless landscape of tortured corpses and detached skulls. The story, as with McCarthy's work in general, ends happily only if you count mere survival as a satisfying resolution. Larcenet's brooding black-and-white drawings suit the original perfectly. Read McCarthy's novel first to appreciate the subtlety of Larcenet's superb graphic adaptation. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.