So The Road has won the Pulitzer Prize. Congrats to Cormac McCarthy. And now, cue two parallel processes: literary critics will break the spines of their thesauri, and their sentences, trying to describe the book without using the phrase “science fiction” — and science fiction fandom will spontaneously combust from a combination of anger that nobody calls the book SF and geekier-than-thou validation that an obviously SFnal text won such a swanky prize. Everybody ties themselves in knots. It’s great. Few things are more fun to observe than the collision of myopias.
Unleash the Kraken!
(And yeah, I know that some critics have mentioned the book in the context of SF. Don’t curdle my generalized glee with the pedantic application of specificities.)