On the surface, Child of God is a shocking, graphic and disturbing portrayal of a functioning but somewhat mentally unstable man. Yet through his dismal, horrifying and immoral acts we are led to contemplate society’s failure to cope and accommodate people who have dangerous tendencies, to instead shun them and fear them - perhaps justly since they are capable of horrific and grotesque crimes. The title ‘Child of God’ demonstrates this point albeit ironically but it is very apparent throughout the story that Lester Ballard has and has had no one who reaches out to help him in his evident dysfunction. Having lost his father (and mother?) when young, the book opens with his familial home being auctioned off in front of him. This leads him to swiftly halt proceedings by holding the auctioneer at gunpoint and so begins the slow denouement of his life as his existence on the periphery of a wintery, backwater US town becomes littered with ever more disturbing events. Each step of the way, he never seems to catch a break or receive any form of help, leaving you feeling surprisingly sorry for him despite the horrible things he does. This is ever more powerful in McCarthy’s customary, distinct, brutal prose and his style is perfectly suited to the bleak atmosphere of Ballard’s tale. I think people could easily be put off by how shocking and perverse events in the story are but for me it was a great book which brought into focus an interesting and contentious issue. Incidentally, James Franco’s film adaptation of this is equally as shocking but a top notch adaptation 👍🏻 ( )

Lester Ballard is a feral serial killer, whose rife is an extension of his arm. He kills strangers and acquaintances with no remorse or even anger - he is merely a murderer without compunction. Lester is isolated with his own fevered obsessions and leaves misery in his wake. He particularly likes female victims, and practices necrophilia.

In the hands of a lesser writer, Lester's story would be sensationalized; however, McCormac writes with a simplicity that allows the readers to understand the evolving madness and cunning of a monster. ( )

Short and not so sweet tale of a serial killing necrophiliac. As usual it's McCarthy's way with words that keeps you reading, but this doesn't rise above to Blood Meridian heights of transcendent violence, nor to the pit of despair that is The Road. Lester is a pathetic character, and his story - despite the death and necrophilia - feels rather toothless and pointless. In that sense, it's perhaps more true to life. ( )

Amazing as always!!! ( )

I'm really beginning to question this "genius" of Cormac McCarthy. Three books into his span of works, and they just seem to be getting worse.

There was no story here. This felt like an extreme horror indie release with better-than-average writing. Lester is a character with no redeeming qualities, and the reader is simply plunged through a series of ever-increasingly terrible events. There's no real surprise at the end, and I, for one, was left trying to understand why this was even published.

I'm no prude. I can see where someone like Jack Ketchum pulls inspiration from a work like this, but I can see Ketchum also deciding that, if he's going to draw from this, he's going to write something and either make it have a point, or make the point obvious that there's a reason evil like this exists in the world.

Instead of just, "hey, here's a story about a really terrible human. The end."

I really have no idea what the point of this novel was. If someone wants to explain it to me, I'll take it. ( )