Nothing compared to Blood Meridian, like his other awful recent work, The Road makes no excuses for its predictable plot events (mad max cliche meets steinbeck sentimentality) McCarthy's work is really about the language but even then, his ability to plumb interior depths through words is far and away the exception to a screenplay-style rule with "picture the actor" dialog and "picture the screen" prose. Takes about as long to read as a watching a movie too, which is to say, not a lot to ponder here, just march through it til it's done. As literature, this is no Melville, no Steinbeck, no Hemingway, and no good.