Drawing Fire from the Text: Narrative and Morality in Blood Meridian

What is death if not an agency? And whom does he intend toward? (Blood Meridian 343). W ~%loodMeridian possesses a curious power to enthrall even as it rZ meticulously carves landscapes of violence the likes of which many readers have never witnessed. Readers have been surprised and disturbed by this, and some have been compelled to investigate the alarming possibility that they had been enamored of a novel that offers neither moral vision nor meaning nor even catharsis. Dana Phillips argues that McCarthy's unanthropocentric language makes no distinction between the equally violent realms of nature and humanity, presenting everything with the same eye of indifference. The book's perspective then is that of natural history-the raw orchestration of events (447) -which offers no moral insight. Blood Meridian certainly interrogates the radical anthropocentrism that fuels the idea of Manifest Destiny, but interrogation is only one component of the novel's larger moral thrust. Steven Shaviro manages to find a cheerful nihilism in his bleak conclusion that the novel's message is that all of us end up like the kid, violated and smothered in the shithouse but cannot dare attach a unique significance even to this because we have no individual distinction, being only part of the dance (157). Recent studies have seen more hopeful readings of the kid as the heroic character. But even most critics who read the novel as a prophetic tale or locate some kernel of moral import interpret the death of the kid as a failure or tragedy. Such readings overlook the moral context of the kid's death; neither the fate of the kid nor the ending of the book is so ignominious or arid. Blood Meridian discloses its moral insight through the antagonism of the judge and the kid. The novel questions the limits of language, casting its inquisition fictionally in the rhetoric of the judge and the conflict between Holden and the kid. As I'll argue, Blood Meridian suggests that language-the meaning-for-us of words and the definitions assigned to them-is communally, cooperatively determined, and collective agreement involves agreement in judgments. Furthermore, the novel posits that every individual possesses a moral autonomy out of which he or she may assess communal meanings and judgments. The judge embodies what Joshua Masters calls a (25), by which he seeks complete mastery. His antagonist, the kid, represents the moral autonomy through which the judge's enterprise may be weighed, measured, and found wanting. Throughout the story, the kid is associated with fire, which symbolizes moral autonomy and the perpetual creative potential of human beings. As Rothfork, Holloway, and others have indicated, the judge's rhetoric finally holds the key to its own demise: he must have an audience who is convinced for his verdict to abide. The kid is never convinced, and goes to his grave of his own volition, in refusal of the judge's account. The kid's final refusal to dance the judge's dance of death upholds moral autonomy as a foundation for constructing a meaningful personal narrative, one which transcends the limits of language even as it is constrained by them. The fire which the kid symbolizes is passed on to the reader as he champions the possibility of resisting the judge's textual endeavor. The Power of LanguageBlood Meridian problematizes the representational nature of language through the character of the judge. John Rothfork compares McCarthy's ideas to the thought of Richard Rorty and Michel Foucault, demonstrating that, according to McCarthy, we can only know the world in terms of the language we use to describe it, for language is the proprietor of meaning. Judge Flolden seeks to exploit power of language. Throughout the novel, he sketches flora, fauna, and natural phenomena in his infamous book. When Toadvine queries the judge about his purpose in recording all these things, Flolden responds, Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent (207). …