Tuesday, August 12. My photo assistant Chika and I arrive at the Santa Fe Institute, Cormac’s home away from home, and load equipment into the library. Cormac is early, chatting up the kitchen staff. We introduce ourselves. Cormac is perhaps 5’6” tall, and I’m 6’2”, but his beaming “pleased to meet you” makes the greater impression on everyone in the room as he shakes our hands. Before we proceed to the library, I note the daylight coming through a side window. Cormac understands and obliges. He is as kind and accommodating in person as I hoped he’d be when we first spoke three Tuesdays before.
Cormac McCarthy Photograph © Beowulf Sheehan www.beowulfsheehan.com
The sun is hard and coarse. In an adjoining courtyard, I mention the mystery and drama I see in the play of light and shadow there, and I ask Cormac if he’s open to being part of it. Yes. And how. My banter with Cormac focuses on the institute, what compels him to be here. “My friends are here. We love the same things. We argue.” What draws him to science? “It’s fun.” What drew him to Santa Fe? “It’s home.” We walk to and work in different corners of the library. Beyond the library is a balcony, and beyond it a nearly open sky. I invite Cormac to step to the balcony’s edge and take in “home.”
Di matahari yang terik dan kasar. Di sebuah halaman samping, saya menyebut misteri dan drama yang saya lihat dalam permainan cahaya dan bayangan di sana, dan saya menanyakan kepada Cormac apakah ia bersedia menjadi bagian dari itu. Ya. Dan bagaimana caranya. Gurauan saya dengan Cormac berfokus pada institute ini, apa yang mendorongnya berada di sini. “Teman-teman saya di sini. Kami menyukai hal yang sama. Kami sering bertengkar.” Apa yang menarik dia pada ilmu pengetahuan? “Ini menyenangkan.” Apa yang membawanya ke Santa Fe? “Ini rumah.” Kami berjalan dan bekerja di sudut-sudut perpustakaan yang berbeda. Di luar perpustakaan ada balkon, dan di baliknya langit yang hampir terbuka. Saya mengundang Cormac untuk berdiri di tepi balkon dan merasakan “rumah.”
At our last institute location, a long exterior wall of adobe apart from its entrance, Cormac finally offers more: “Do you know the story of my typewriter?” No, I reply, just in case the story he’s about to tell is different from the one I know. He tells Chika and me that he donated his Olivetti Lettera 32 typewriter to an auction to benefit the Santa Fe Institute. It fetched $250,000. A friend then went on eBay and bought a new one for him for a few dollars. A proud smile rests on Cormac’s face. It might not have come if I’d said yes.
Di lokasi institut kami sebelumnya, sebuah tembok eksterior panjang dari adobe terpisah dari pintunya, Cormac akhirnya menawarkan lebih: “Apakah kamu tahu cerita tentang mesin tikku?” Tidak, jawabku, sebagai antisipasi jika ceritanya akan berbeda dari yang kuketahui. Ia menceritakan kepada Chika dan aku bahwa ia mendonasikan mesin tik Olivetti Lettera 32-nya untuk lelang guna mendukung Santa Fe Institute. Lelang itu menghasilkan $250.000. Seorang teman kemudian masuk ke eBay dan membeli yang baru untuknya dengan beberapa dolar. Senyum bangga terukir di wajah Cormac. Itu mungkin tidak akan hadir jika aku mengatakan ya.
Cormac McCarthy Photograph © Beowulf Sheehan www.beowulfsheehan.com
“Do you want to come to my house and make more pictures?”
Aku tidak sabar. Kami berkemas sementara Cormac mundur ke teman-temannya.
*
Cormac’s truck is weathered, rusted, dinged, easy to find in a crowd. We follow him through the traffic lights and intersections, out to where streetlights turn into street signs and abutted buildings turn into yarded homes. Farther still, as the road straightens and lengthens, the view is of open space. Then, on the right, a two-story, perhaps 4,000-square-foot adobe house rises into view. Numerous vehicles sit sprawled under tarps across his dusty driveway and land. Following Cormac’s lead outside, I ask him about the cars he’s collected. Pointing to one, he says, “That’s a Corvette Stingray. I drove it back after I partied with Johnny Carson in Fort Lauderdale,” laughing to himself. My hometown.
Truk Cormac terlihat usang, berkarat, bergundukan, mudah dikenali di antara kerumunan. Kami mengikutinya melewati lampu lalu lintas dan perempatan, menuju ke tempat lampu jalan berubah menjadi tanda jalan dan bangunan berdempetan berubah menjadi rumah-rumah yang berada di halaman. Semakin jauh, saat jalan lurus dan panjang, pemandangan adalah hamparan ruang terbuka. Kemudian, di sebelah kanan, sebuah rumah adobe dua lantai, mungkin seluas empat ribu kaki persegi, muncullah di hadapan kami. Banyak kendaraan tergeletak di bawah terpal di atas lahan berdebu miliknya. Mengikuti jejak Cormac di luar, saya bertanya tentang mobil-mobil yang telah ia kumpulkan. Menunjuk ke salah satu, ia berkata, “Itu Corvette Stingray. Aku membawanya pulang setelah berpesta dengan Johnny Carson di Fort Lauderdale,” sambil tertawa pada dirinya sendiri. Kota kelahiranku.
Cormac McCarthy Photograph © Beowulf Sheehan www.beowulfsheehan.com
“Do you want to come to my house and make more pictures?”
I can’t wait. We pack while Cormac retreats to his friends.
*
Cormac’s truck is weathered, rusted, dinged, easy to find in a crowd. We follow him through the traffic lights and intersections, out to where streetlights turn into street signs and abutted buildings turn into yarded homes. Farther still, as the road straightens and lengthens, the view is of open space. Then, on the right, a two-story, perhaps 4,000-square-foot adobe house rises into view. Numerous vehicles sit sprawled under tarps across his dusty driveway and land. Following Cormac’s lead outside, I ask him about the cars he’s collected. Pointing to one, he says, “That’s a Corvette Stingray. I drove it back after I partied with Johnny Carson in Fort Lauderdale,” laughing to himself. My hometown.
Truk Cormac tampak berkarat, usang, bergundukan, mudah dikenali di keramaian. Kami mengikutinya melewati lampu lalu lintas dan persimpangan, keluar ke tempat lampu jalan berubah menjadi rambu jalan dan bangunan yang berdampingan menjadi rumah-rumah bertamannya. Lebih jauh lagi, saat jalan lurus dan memanjang, pemandangan adalah ruang terbuka. Kemudian, di sebelah kanan, sebuah rumah adobe dua lantai, mungkin seluas empat ribu kaki persegi, muncul ke permukaan. Banyak kendaraan berserakan di bawah terpal di atas lahan berdebu miliknya. Mengikuti arah Cormac di luar, aku menanyakan tentang mobil-mobil yang ia kumpulkan. Menunjuk ke salah satu, ia berkata, “Itu Corvette Stingray. Aku membawanya pulang setelah berpesta dengan Johnny Carson di Fort Lauderdale,” tertawa pada dirinya sendiri. Kota kelahiranku.
From The Father of the Man: The Last Author Portrait Sitting with Cormac McCarthy by Beowulf Sheehan. Copyright © 2026. Available from Autofocus Books.
