Rediscovering All the Pretty Horses: Cormac McCarthy's Poetic Take on the Modern Cowboy

I recently finished reading All the Pretty Horses for the second time, and it was nothing short of phenomenal. The first time I read it, I enjoyed it, but compared to other Cormac McCarthy novels I had read, it was my least favourite. However, after my second read, that has changed significantly. It's now one of my favourites by him, probably second only to The Passenger. What a book!

Of all the McCarthy novels I've read, this one feels the most relatable. I say "relatable" loosely, because my life bears little resemblance to the characters' experiences, yet their journey feels so tangible and universal in an almost unexplainable way.

For this review, I’m going to dive into spoilers—you’ve been warned!

The novel is beautifully written and opens with a lost John Grady Cole. His parents are divorcing, and he no longer feels at home in his world. He and his cousin set off on a journey to Mexico, searching for purpose and a new life. What they find there changes them forever.

Set in the mid-20th century, All the Pretty Horses explores the end of the cowboy way of life. The world is modernizing—trucks are replacing horses, and the old ways are fading. McCarthy's writing, however, makes the setting feel like a distant past. There’s a tension between the changing world and the characters’ desire to hold on to their traditions, creating a beautifully melancholic atmosphere.

When they cross into Mexico, it's as if time has stopped. The landscapes are barren and untouched by industrialization, creating a stark contrast with the modernizing U.S. It feels almost like they’ve arrived on an alien planet—strangers in a strange land.

McCarthy’s descriptions of the landscape are vivid and poetic. The world he creates feels alive, moving with the flow of time:

"Days to come they rode through the mountains and they crossed at a barren windgap and sat the horses among the rocks and looked out over the country to the south where the last shadows were running over the land before the wind and the sun to the west lay blood red among the shelving clouds and the distant cordilleras ranged down the terminals of the sky to fade from pale to pale of blue and then to nothing at all."

I know many readers struggle with McCarthy’s unique style, but I find these passages mesmerizing. They pull me in.

One of the standout characters in this story is Jimmy Blevins. He’s the catalyst for much of the action, even when he’s not present. The dynamic between him, John Grady, and Rawlins is fascinating. Blevins is significantly younger, and his dialogue is often hilarious. Despite his youth and the humour he brings, Blevins also introduces tragedy into the story.

A particularly funny scene takes place during a thunderstorm. Blevins, terrified of being struck by lightning, recounts a family history full of lightning-related deaths. His fear leads to a series of events that have dire consequences down the road.

"It runs in the family [getting struck by lightning], said Blevins. My grandaddy was killed in a minebucket in West Virginia it run down in the hole a hunnerd and eighty feet to get him it couldnt even wait for him to get to the top. They had to wet down the bucket to cool it fore they could get him out of it, him and two other men. It fried em like bacon. My daddy’s older brother was blowed out of a derrick in the Batson Field in the year nineteen and four, cable rig with a wood derrick but the lightnin got him anyways and him not nineteen year old. Great uncle on my mother’s side-mother’s side, I said-got killed on a horse and it never singed a hair on that horse and it killed him graveyard dead they had to cut his belt off him where it welded the buckle shut and I got a cousin aint but four years oldern me was struck down in his own yard comin from the barn and it paralyzed him all down one side and melted the fillins in his teeth and soldered his jaw shut."

Phenomenal.

His fear and actions lead to the loss of his horse and gun, which have major repercussions for the characters later in the story. This is where McCarthy masterfully captures the unpredictability of life. Characters come and go in ways that feel raw and real, leaving a lasting impact on the narrative.

At its core, All the Pretty Horses is also a love story—albeit a tragic one. The romance mirrors the end of the cowboy way of life, romanticized but doomed to fade away.

"He’d half meant to speak but those eyes had altered the world forever in the space of a heartbeat."

This idea of time stopping when lovers meet is echoed in how Mexico itself feels stuck in time. It’s a subtle but powerful theme in the novel.

Another significant theme is the loss of innocence. John Grady and Rawlins enter Mexico full of hope and adventure, but by the time they leave, they are changed. Two key scenes stand out in this regard:

1. Blevins’ death. Rawlins may have disliked Blevins, but his murder is so unjust that it leaves a deep emotional mark.

2. John Grady’s confession to the judge. He admits to killing a man in self-defence, but the guilt still weighs heavily on him. Even though his actions were necessary for survival, the emotional toll is undeniable. This is such a real, human experience—the things we do to survive often haunt us long after the fact.

There are too many incredible scenes in this novel to count. It’s no wonder All the Pretty Horses won the National Book Award—it’s an exceptional piece of literature.

Before rereading this novel, I had worked my way through the rest of the Border Trilogy—The Crossing and Cities of the Plain. The trilogy, while unconventional in structure, is masterful. Revisiting All the Pretty Horses was a true pleasure. What was once my least favourite of the three has become my favourite.

When McCarthy passed away last year, it hit me hard. He’s undoubtedly one of my favourite authors, and All the Pretty Horses is a perfect showcase of his talents.