All the Pretty Horses (The Border Trilogy, Book 1)
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Now a major motion picture from Columbia Pictures starring Matt Damon, produced by Mike Nichols, and directed by Billy Bob Thornton.
The national bestseller and the first volume in Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy, All the Pretty Horses is the tale of John Grady Cole, who at sixteen finds himself at the end of a long line of Texas ranchers, cut off from the only life he has ever imagined for himself. With two companions, he sets off for Mexico on a sometimes idyllic, sometimes comic journey to a place where dreams are paid for in blood. Winner of the National Book Award for Fiction.
Next time we will leave your skinny ass. John Grady reached and took the reins and held the horse while Blevins lurched aboard. Let me have them reins, said Blevins. I’m a goddamned buckaroo is what I am. John Grady shook his head. Blevins dropped the reins and reached to get them and almost slid off down the horse’s shoulder. He saved himself and sat up with the reins and pulled the horse around sharply. Certified goddamn broncpeeler, what I mean, he said. He dug his heels in under the horse and it squatted and went forward and Blevins fell backwards into the road.
It said: Is that you all? John Grady could see part of Rawlins’ face broken into squares in the light from the grid. Turning slowly. The pain in his eyes. Ah God, he said. Blevins? said John Grady. Yeah. It’s me. He made his way carefully to the rear. An outstretched leg withdrew along the floor like a serpent recoiling underfoot. He squatted and looked at Blevins. Blevins moved and he could see his teeth in the partial light. As if he were smiling. What a man wont see when he aint got a gun, said Blevins. How long have you been here?
She went into the other room. Then she came out and nodded. He rose and crossed the room. Come in son, said Franklin. He walked in. Set down. He sat. When he’d said what he had to say Franklin leaned back and looked out the window. He shook his head. He turned back and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. In the first place, he said, I’m not really at liberty to advise you. It’s called conflict of interest. But I think I can tell you that it is her property and she can do whatever she wants with it.
I believe I’ll go back to bed. Go ahead. I’ll wake you. All right. Blevins went to sleep as well. He sat watching the firmament unscroll up from behind the blackened palisades of the mountains to the east. Toward the village all was darkness. Not even a dog barked. He looked at Rawlins rolled asleep in his soogan and he knew that he was right in all he’d said and there was no help for it and the dipper standing at the northern edge of the world turned and the night was a long time passing. When he called them out it was not much more than an hour till daylight.
But I dont let whores make trouble for me. When I come back there is no laughing. No one is laughing. You see. That has always been my way in this world. I am the one when I go someplace then there is no laughing. When I go there then they stop laughing. They were led up four flights of stone stairs and through a steel door out onto an iron catwalk. The guard smiled back at them in the light from the bulb over the door. Beyond lay the night sky of the desert mountains. Below them the prison yard. Se llama la periquera, he said.