Blood Meridian is a western as imagined by lunatic and written by a poet.  That is to say it is violence and mayhem written in stunning, beautiful prose.   We travel with the kid as he leaves Tennessee, joins the army, is almost slaughtered by indians, joins a mercenary group, slaughters some indians, is almost slaughtered by indians again... lets just say there is alot of slaughtering. 

McCarthy writes about an ugly chapter in American history without judging.  He's like a naturalist, observing animals hunting and killing and eating each other in the wild.  There is no morality to it; that is just what animals do.   This is embodied, ironically, by a character with no name; he is only called the judge.  He is 7 feet tall, powerfully strong, and completely bald.  I only mention his physique because McCarthy mentions it dozens of times, often having him stroll around naked.  He is a philosopher, a scientist, and a supremely efficient killer.  He observes the world and the men around him but is not of them.  To him, they are all animals.  I'm not sure, but I think he might be the devil?  Surely if the devil were on earth this is the place he would call home.

I am a fast reader, but I slogged through this book like my feet were in mud.  That is not to say I didn't enjoy it; quite the contrary.  I read and reread sentences and passages, marveling in the spectacle and the craft.  I kept a dictionary next to me for easy reference, because it turns out there are a whole lot of words that Cormac McCarthy knows, but I don't.
 
I read this book last spring but didn't recommend it then because it was not a summer book, not a book to be enjoyed on the beach in the warmth and the sun. Blood Meridian is a book for winter, cold and dark and beautiful.