Do I have the stomach to look long and honest at evil? Mostly, no. I learned that while reading Cormac McCarthy. Last fall, I picked him up for the first time, reading first The Road, then Blood Meridian, and third No Country for Old Men. “Bleak” is the tired, summative word that comes up when reading about McCarthy online or in print. “Prophetic” is a word I’d prefer.
McCarthy’s ability to show with breadth the facets of evil is an important contribution to our stunted evangelical and evolutionary imaginations, of which the former correspond with simplistic “all evil is a matter of simple personal will” and the later connects to the idea that all evil is socially unacceptable maladaptivity . At a pop level, sin is conceived of as doing unholy acts out of a maladaptive survival instinct. This falls short of the Biblical narrative and McCarthy’s worldview. If we want to see evil where it is and how it is, McCarthy’s work serves as the bleak tutor we need.
McCarthy can be meaningfully understood through the lenses of John Frame’s triperspectival epistemological framework. Frame breaks out his threefold lens like this:
- The normative lens: this lens has to do with standards, obedience, principles, decrees, and laws (i.e. norms). It is the objective lens. In terms of Christ’s offices, think Prophet.
- The situational lens: this frame corresponds to persons, circumstances, goals, and plans (i.e. situations). It is the contextual lens. In terms of Christ’s offices, think King.
- The existential lens: this perspective connects to motives, emotions, desires, and internality (i.e. existential). It is the subjective lens. In terms of Christ’s office, think priest.
This triperspectival framework is a helpful tool for analyzing the structure of reality. In this context, it helps us consider a robust picture of the nature of Evil.
Consider three personalities of evil we see in McCarthy:
- Normative – Anton Chigurh (in No Country)
- Existential – The Judge (Blood Meridian)
- Situational – The Cannibals (in The Road)
Normative Evil in No Country for Old Men
In No Country for Old Men, McCarthy’s antagonist is a cold, principled, and violent man named Anton Chigurh. Chigurh is unlike other typically evil people; he’s unmotivated by greed, revenge, or pleasure. Carson Wells says this of him: “He has principles. He doesn't have any other reason to do anything he does.” His principles are self-imposed and they are twisted, but he nonetheless operates as a man with integrity.
Towards the end of the novel, when he’s letting Carla Jean know that he’s going to kill her, she pleads for her life. “You don’t have to do this,” she argues. He responds, “I have to do it. I gave him my word.” He flips coins and kills on the basis of the result; it is not random, its premeditated conformity to a law greater than itself.
Normative evil is consistent. It adheres to sub-Christian principles. It operates consistently within non-reality. It is non-complicated. It is the form of evil we can most simply grasp, hence Godwin’s Law: “As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches 1.” When we are singularly locked into the normative lens, the Nazis become the objective standard that we can compare everything to. There is a purity to this type of evil that we can easily grasp. Most people think they are not evil because their internal world is complicated, not because they don’t think they never do bad things.
Existential Evil in Blood Meridian
Judge Holden aka The Judge in Blood Meridian offers a stark contrast to Chigurh. The Judge is a figure of chaos and unpredictability. His actions are driven by a lust for power and a belief in the inherent violence of existence. He’s nihilistic and bored. Not principles, but the process of violence itself is ultimate:
War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god. Men are born for games. All else is supplemental. Wars have a purpose. Men are created to fight. The emptiness and the vainness of things outside of combat drive men to it. Men fight not only for survival but for the emptiness they perceive within themselves. They fight to fill a void, a nothingness that gnaws at them.
He's not submitting to principles, “he’s dancing, dancing, he says he will never die.” Art over science. Violence is entertainment. One moment he’s playing with a baby and we’re tempted to see a chink in the armor; but the next he’s scalping it. Why? Because of the emptiness. It’s a game, the violence. He’s the chaos monster, the leviathan, who rules the Deep. Standardless, he’s Will-to-Power incarnate. Might doesn’t make right because there is no right in the proper sense. Might makes. Period.
When people describe something as an “existential threat” they’re approximating this perspective – the status quo, the rule of law, the norms we’ve come to presume on are under siege. Ends, here, do not justify means, because actions require no justification. All “is," no “ought.”
Situational Evil in The Road
In The Road, McCarthy explores situational evil through the depiction of cannibalism in a post-apocalyptic world. The Cannibals do not “carry the fire” – they give into baser survival instincts. We are not for two seconds tempted to empathize with Chigurh or The Judge, but Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs means we understand and connect with radical desperation as a motivation.
We defend ourselves on this basis: sorry, I was hungry, that’s why I said that. Frame's situational perspective focuses on the context and environment in which actions occur, highlighting how external factors influence behavior. The cannibals in The Road are not presented as inherently evil; rather, their actions are a response to the dire situation they find themselves in. Not “carrying the fire” is a choice we all make when faced with difficult scenarios. In absolute contrast to The Judge, the violence is not a game, it is absolutely about survival.
The Trauma Informed world understands this, perhaps to a degree that is counterproductive. We make apologies and excuses for the evils that others commit because we see them in context: “I don’t hold that against my dad; his family of origin taught him that was an appropriate way to cope with his anger.” Or for ourselves, “I watch pornography because I was lonely as a child.” We justify evil by citing suffering. “Perhaps if Baby Pol Pot was hugged more it would have made a difference?” some might say. We are prone to minimizing evil by empathizing with the situation of evil-doers when we are stuck with this singular lens. Yet, we know, the choice to let the fire die in any context is itself an evil act.
Conclusion
Adherence to principles that dehumanize (normative), chaotic will to power (existential), and survival as license (situational) are all forms of evil that a Theologian of the Cross who “calls a thing what it is” must have the stomach to consider, avoid, and discipline.
In this way, McCarthy’s multifaceted window into the verities of evil that present themselves are gifts to the church and the world. As the church is given a variety of gifts that balance each other out, the world similarly stewards a variety of evil mechanisms that steal, kill, and destroy. Some of us are prone and able to see different aspects of evil more clearly, while being tempted to deny or minimize other forms of evil.
Consider the sub-Christian trauma therapist counseling a person engaged in cannibalism. It would not do to say, “Let’s be curious about those desires; when did they first develop?” Their goal of being a non-judgmental presence obscures the normative lens; sometimes why simply shouldn’t matter, only the what does. Empathy for particular situations or survival instincts doesn’t obscure the fact that abuse is always bad and must be stopped.
Or, consider the naive pastor who lacks proper compassion for sufferers as he’s meeting with someone facing addiction. In seeing only the normative lens, his ceiling as an agent for healing will be low because of his ignorance of the reality of situations.
Lastly, consider the men’s small group leader who cheers on someone in his group who’s crushing his sales goals and is printing money. Is he able to challenge the man’s existential reality, helping him consider sinful motives like greed or proving-the-haters-wrong?
Thoughtful students of sin and evil may be helped by McCarthy’s ability to shine light on various forms of evil and how they manifest. Self-reflective church members will identify with Chigurh, The Judge, and the Cannibals in subtle ways that are difficult to say out loud; these lenses can serve as mirrors in our pursuit of holiness.
