The night my wife and I went to see the movie, we left my five-month-old son with my mom. But, by the time the film had been released, I had become a father. A film adaptation was announced, and I rejoiced. in hopes of finding civilization and, with it, safety from murderous bands of lawless thugs. In that novel, a father and his young son navigate a hellish post-apocalyptic version of the southern U.S. I pressed this book into people’s hands, you understand. I had, for example, read and loved Cormac McCarthy’s The Road a few years before my son was born. By signing up you agree to our terms of use Thank you for signing up! Keep an eye on your inbox. I started reading late one Sunday morning, and several hours later, I lay in bed wondering if my eyes were burning because I was tired or because I hadn’t closed them more than twice since I started reading the book. See, I wanted to watch the much-talked-about film version of Bird Box but only after reading the book. You might recognize Bird Box‘s title from Netflix’s recent adaptation starring Sandra Bullock, or perhaps from strangers on the internet doing something stupid. (For the record, switching from reading Harry Potter to reading Bird Box is like switching from eating Skittles to eating a habanero pepper.) I was most of the way through a Harry Potter reread (my go-to reading slump cure) when I decided to take a break between books five and six of that series to read Bird Box by Josh Malerman. Both warrant a content warning for gruesome violence and suicide (though neither is discussed explicitly in this post).
The novels Bird Box and The Road are discussed in this post.
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