McCarthy risks being accused of appearing to relish the violence he so lavishly records;(...one never feels, as one always does in Dostoyevsky, the novelist flinching from the suffering he is recording). 

No, one does not.

The problem with a novel like “No Country for Old Men” is that it cannot give violence any depth, context, or even reality. The artificial theatre of the writing makes the violence routine [Like pornography] and showy. And McCarthy’s idea—his novelistic picture—of life’s evil is limited, and literal: it is only ever of physical violence.