It is very rare that I can offer an unreserved recommendation of a film adapted from a great novel. Because a novel is so much denser and more verbally complete than any film can ever be, one almost always is aware of how much is left out when a novel becomes a film. Cormac McCarthy’s work relies so much on verbal description and authorial commentary, I would not have thought the Coen brothers could have made such a satisfying and complete film from his work, but they did exactly that. Some have found the final scene disappointing, but it didn’t seem that way to me. At worst, it is an extremely good scene prededed by amazingly outstanding ones.

This is an evocation of the situation facing an intelligent and sensitive woman more than 100 years ago. I am not a woman, may not be all that sensitive, and am not living more than 100 years ago, so this is fascinating. Its proclamation that women have powerful sexual desires is entirely obvious now, but was shocking to polite society when it was written.

Everyone should read this – all of it. If one assumes there is nothing to it but the tale of Lilliput the whole point is missed: This is not an adventure, but a condemnation of all of humanity.