Review of "The Diamond Age" by Neal Stephenson

The best metaphor that can be drawn of Neal Stephenson’s 1996 The Diamond Age is a shotgun blast.  Expectations high for the follow up to his highly successful Snow Crash, Stephenson upped the ante by wadding a larger number of ideas into his literary gun and firing away.  The pellets scattering across the target, some strike dead on, while others, particularly the ending, are off the mark.

At heart, The Diamond Age is a bildungsroman told only as the imagination of Stephenson can (read: a ninja must be in their somewhere).  Occupying the same future as Snow Crash, the setting this time around is Shangahai rather the American west coast.  Living in one of the lower class ‘claves is a little girl Nell, an illegitimate child everyone abuses save her older brother, Harv.  Nanotech having solved the world’s hunger problems, Nell and Harv survive easily on food produced in their apartment’s matter compiler.  Their mother working the streets, bringing home one loser boyfriend after another, the two still lack spiritual sustenance. This situation soon changes, however.

Nell’s life takes a permanent transition when Harv comes home one day with a nanotech-ed interactive book he and his gang lifted from a high-society engineer.  Called A Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer, the engineer, whose name is Hackworth, designed the book to educate and guide a girl from childhood into adulthood for a rich noble.  School subjects, social issues, and the realities of life are all taught in an interactive manner through voiceovers, pictures, and moving stories that adapt to the young girl’s life as she develops in the real world.  How Harv “acquired” this quickly places the siblings in the midst of a heated search for the precious copy of the primer.

Of all the pellets fired from Stephenson’s gun, the one striking closest to center is the nanotech.  Brilliantly described and wonderfully detailed like no author (I know of) has yet to do, the possibilities of nanotech engineering are delivered in big, beautiful packages.  From weapons to providing the most basic of needs (like food and clothing), whole ecosystems to blood cleansers, Stephenson excels displaying these nano concepts.  Descriptions are vivid and pseudo-science based, and while still wholly fantastic, are presented in fashion that allows the reader to willingly accept the reasoning.  The uses to which society puts the nanotech—good and evil—is likewise realistic in its understanding of humanity’s application of its discoveries.  The sub-titular A Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer in particular is a wonderfully creative set piece derived from the nanotech and one of the most positive visions of how science could benefit society if applied correctly that sci-fi has ever seen.

The second pellet striking close to home, buoying the novel along and keeping it above water as other elements threaten to drag it down, is characterization.  Though some are wonderfully unearthed only to be quickly discarded, all the voices have a feel of their own.  Excluding the ending, the empathy one feels for Nell is palpable and a credit to a nerd’s ability to write.  Dr. X, Judge Fang, Bud, and Elizabeth likewise have fallen directly out of our society and landed in the novel.  That the characters receive non-uniform treatment from a plot perspective is, however, another issue.

Attempting to capture some of the Victorian age in a sci-fi novel, Hackworth and the noble, along with the other characters filling out the dramatis personae, appear with appropriate degrees of the era’s detail.  Top hats, overly-formal address, and the equine are all part of the throw-back fun.  Honing skills that would later reveal themselves in better light in the Baroque Cycle, dialogue is amusing for its stylish tone but lacking the fresh simile and wordplay of Cryptonomicon.  As a result, the dialogue and retro feel render the novel more steam- than cyberpunk.

Negative points, however, are an unfortunate must when discussing The Diamond Age.  Something like too much bread in the mouth, most readers will spend their time trying to gum through the wad of ideas Stephenson pushes upon the reader.  Such a plethora exists that the windows of possibility are thrown open to the extent the sky is the limit.  With anything seeming possible, a disconnection arises between the simple human story of Nell’s development and the vast technological and political canvas its spread across.  That strong elements of hallucinatory fantasy are added to “bolster” an otherwise brimming plot seems over much and creates a narrative that never truly identifies itself. 

If Stephenson left the windows open writing the plot, then the climax sees the shutters blown off and glass shattered on the floor.  Many readers have taken exception to The Diamond Age’s conclusion, and the uproar is apt.  The story trundling along at a steady pace, events suddenly take a sharp right turn that jumps the tracks with 50 pages to go.  Events straining plausibility, the storytelling necessary to build to such a point is not present in enough quality or quantity prior to convince the reader that things have suddenly gone from individual self-realization to outright societal revolution.  Though Stephenson’s intent is clear, the stepping stones to arrive there remain mostly submerged.

In the end, The Diamond Age is a novel with good ideas spoiled by its lack of cohesiveness.  Victim to an issue many sci-fi writers fall into, Stephenson’s range of concepts is too large for the simple story he is trying to tell.  Without giving away any of the plot, the methods and tech introduced would have been able to drastically alter the events in the climax, but for reasons of artistic license, do not--a disconnect appearing, as such.  This problem disguises itself for most of the novel as plot, characterization, and theme seem to develop cogently.  However, when the ending digresses to such an extreme point, the overall intent becomes confused—Kill Bill meets 1984.  While remaining an interesting read based on the strength of Stephenson’s ideas alone, those looking for a more cohesive, toned, and interdependent story in the vein of the author’s later work will be disappointed.  Those who loved Snow Crash, however, will probably also like The Diamond Age.  If you want better Victorian steampunk, read William Gibson and Bruce Sterling's The Difference Engine.

Review of "The System of the World" by Neal Stephenson

A large portion of science fiction writers attack from typical angles - alien species, spaceships, laser battles, and so forth the name of the game.  In writing the Baroque Cycle, Neal Stephenson instead went for the sci-fi jugular.  Turning a few fictional characters loose to mingle with the historically accurate - Newton, Leibniz, Handel, and Locke among them - in Europe around the turn of the 18th century, the Baroque era is by far a more challenging arena for a sci-fi writer to create, and one, which Stephenson presents, is key to understanding our current scientific and economic paradigms.

The System of the World picks up 15 years after events from The Confusion.  Despite the time bridge, Stephenson continues exploring the era for the themes he presented in Quicksilver, foremost among them the primal root of binary logic and numismatics in relation to its importance to today’s society.  It’s also a chance for Stephenson to let loose the little boy inside and play with all the kings and queens, poisons and pirates, and castles and treasures.  There are shoot-outs in the Tower of London, clockwork bombs, Solomonic gold, jailbreaks from infamous prisons, duels with cannons—not sabers or pistols, and Alchemy.  All are part of The System of the World, the fitting and more than satisfactory finale to the Baroque Cycle.  

Certainly not science fiction in the strictest sense, The System of the World - and the Baroque cycle as a whole -  are instead “written in the spirit of sci-fi”, according to Stephenson.  Numerology, virtual economics, metallurgy, calculus, and astronomy are only some of themes at work, and as such, one can’t help but agree, despite the historically accurate setting.  Quicksilver and The Confusion having positioned the pieces and motivated the plot respectively, The System of the World takes the overall story arc to the next level, concluding the plot threads of the main characters – Jack, Eliza, Daniel, Bob, Dappa, etc. - in a satisfying fashion.  That Stephenson also hones the thematic point of the Cycle to expose the financial and mathematical system underlying our modern world only heightens its literary importance.  The genre of science fiction now extends into the past as well as future.

The warning: Stephenson is not a writer for everyone’s tastes.  Much of the density of the Baroque Cycle can be chalked up to digressions on the geography, fashion, culture, and lifestyles of Europe in the late 17th/early 18th century.  Named the Baroque Cycle for more than just the tail end of the era portrayed, the title is also an allegory to the level of detail and ornamentation Stephenson grafts onto the storylines.  Wigs, street layouts, etymology, social hierarchy, architectural styles, the filth of the poor,  etc. are all fair game in the text.  Thus, if you are not interested in learning about the era as well as participating in a great story, don’t bother reading.

The digressive nature of the Cycle aside, Stephenson has under-appreciated skills as a writer.  Woven effortlessly through the informative content is a plot so subtle, less attentive readers will complain of the lack thereof.  Rest assured that on the occasions it does occur, what was a quietly susurrating story takes on levels of excitement one could never imagine when examining the motif of coins, mathematics, stock exchanges, etc. at face value.  The various climax points scattered throughout The System of the World will have readers effortlessly turning pages.  Though an old man may not seem a likely character to carry the action of such a story, Daniel’s life is suffuse with subtle action and intrigue in carrying the lion’s share of the plot.

A Toronto newspaper has been quoted to the effect that the Baroque Cycle will be studied for years.  Unfortunately, this is not the case.  In the way of theory and concept, it offers nothing new or overtly controversial – and nor did it intend to.  The only research people will be doing is to double check Stephenson’s facts.  Was Newton in fact a diehard alchemist who allowed his irrational thoughts to be polluted by the rational?  Did the virtual nature of economy actually begin so long ago?  Is that truly the fashion in which a German became king of England?  These and a host of other questions will have the truly curious checking history books to confirm what has been under all of our noses for so long, it just took Stephenson to spice it up with a dynamite story to make us interested.

In the end, the Baroque Cycle is a brilliantly conceived series of books that goes to great lengths to expose the roots of computing and numismatics which found our current economy.  Simultaneously weaving a fictional yarn through the immovable landmarks of time, the interstitial historical trivia which fleshes out the story will either have the reader bored to death or reading with pleasure.  True nerds will love the manner in which Stephenson takes the historical sandbox of the turn of the 18th century plays in it like a mad scientist with all the toys at his disposal – gunpowder, nautical mimitations, historical landmarks, kings, metallurgy, etc. in this case.  Never to be studied conceptually, The System of the World, and the Baroque Cycle as a whole, use the mode of story to describe precisely why knowledge is power by highlighting the historical transition in Europe from irrationalism to rationalism in a fashion textbooks never could.  From history to mathematics, wordplay to plotting, Neal Stephenson is the nerd’s nerd, a true natural philosopher.  Highly recommended.

Review of "The Confusion" by Neal Stephenson

The Confusion picks up where Quicksilver left off, the themes and characters introduced in the first volume fleshed out in more detail.  Numismatics, Alchemy, the history of European commerce, metallurgy, daily life in the world at the turn of the 18th century, and political intrigue drive their influence even deeper into the reader’s understanding of this, the second installment (or 4th and 5th, depending on perspective) of Stephenson’s epic Baroque Cycle.

Daniel Waterhouse once again appears as a focal point, and, as usual, plays the important role of acting as a window into the political, scientific, and philosophical happenings of the British nobility.  His role is far out-weighed in page time by the doings of Eliza de Zeur and Jack Shaftoe, however.  A behind the scenes wheeler and dealer, Eliza continues her devious speculation and chess moves on European markets, trying to influence the larger political and economic picture of France, Germany, Holland, and England.  While triumphing on certain occasions, she suffers irrevocable personal loss at others, the reader getting a clearer picture of the exigencies of life the people of the time – rich or poor – had to be wary of and prepared for.  Though starting as a barbary slave in the Mediterranean, Jack’s plight quickly picks up speed as he and his cabal cast off their fetters in a high risk plot to capture Spanish gold – a specific batch of gold whose progress has been carefully followed every wave across the Atlantic by not only bankers, but by some of the leading minds of the time, Sir Isaac Newton among them.  The adventures Jack and his gang subsequently become a part of take them around the world, the precocity of the gold explained without.

For those looking for more action and less table-setting, then The Confusion will be of more enjoyment than the opener Quicksilver.  Detailed expositions on a variety of subjects, including watered steel, shipbuilding, and the Inquisition still exist, however, as the scene has already been set, events and action freely spill off the pages.  “Swashbuckling” is a word used on the book’s back cover, and upon reading Jack’s exploits, it’s impossible not to agree.  Eliza too, while not wielding a blade or navigating through pirate infested waters, nevertheless finds her life not as predictable as it once was, the political games and investments she makes holding just as much risk as Jack’s.  In the end, if you’ve read Quicksilver and are interested in continuing, then The Confusion will only make you want to finish the Cycle.  And so while the book wraps itself up all too fast – half a world covered in under 200 pages – and in rather implausible fashion, readers will nevertheless be satisfied with plot progression into the final volume, System of the World.

Review of "Quicksilver" by Neal Stephenson

The ideas of numerology, encryption, and early computer infrastructure came to life in Stephenson’s 2001 Cryptonomicon.  Quicksilver – and the entire Baroque Cycle, for that matter – find the author digging even deeper into these histories to strike at the root of modern economy, commerce, and primitive computing.   Tipping the scales at more than 900 pages, the volume is divided into three parts: the eponymous Quicksilver, King of the Vagabonds, and Odalisque.

Centuries in the past rather than decades, the scene is the late 17th century, Britain's Reformation in full swing.  While Protestants and Catholics war in politics and on the streets, a growing number of scientists appear, bent on defining the phenomena of life in less fantastic terms.  Funded and ennobled from on high, a group of these aristocratic nerds form London’s Royal Society for Natural Philosophy and carry out a wide variety of experiments on anything they can lay their hands on, live dogs, menstrual blood, and kidney stones turning no stomachs.  Newton hangs on the fringes, and his, along with Leibniz’s mathematical discoveries, move Europe toward the values of empirical science.

Into this accurate historical setting (which includes many characters who truly lived and breathed), Stephenson weaves a handful of fictional characters.  Foremost is Dr. Daniel Waterhouse, who acts both as witness and participant in the wide variety of social, political, religious, and scientific happenings of the day.  Action occurs elsewhere, as well.  The characters Jack Shaftoe and Eliza de Zeur traipse about mainland Europe (predominantly Germany, the Netherlands, and France), getting into adventures more swashbuckling than Waterhouse’s ecclesiastical circumstances allow for.  Each a window in time, it is through these character’s eyes that the history of the era unfolds as only Stephenson’s wit could allow.

Quicksilver certainly more historical than fictional, the author allows the movements of textbooks to direct the story.  Waterhouse’s perspective is chock full of the political movements and court intrigue of the time, as well as the philosophic and religious disputes that marked the early stages of the modern scientific revolution.  The second and third books, King of the Vagabonds and Odalisque, respectively, contain more action, however.  Jack and Eliza’s turns through silver mines of Bohemia, stock markets of Amsterdam, and squalorous streets of Paris, ratchet the excitement level a little higher and keep the pages turning.  

In the end, Stephenson has done his research.  The pages of Quicksilver are bursting with esoteric cultural and historical facts that most modern day people are unaware of.  The origins of words, place names, and former political allegiances will surprise the reader and have them checking up on Stephenson’s facts in a more trusted source.  The fictional characters thrown into the mix liven what would otherwise be dry reading.  Further jazzing up the 900 pages, Stephenson breaks narrative form on several occasions to introduce alternative formats.  Socratic dialogue, letters, theater, and info dumps all bump and jostle the story along.  At times seeming more educational than entertainment, the book is true nerd-dom. Thus, readers who prefer linear, action filled narratives should look elsewhere.  Quicksilver is infotainment with a heavy focus on the history of money, mathematics, and the daily life of 17th century Europe.

Connecting the world...

Though now fifteen years old, I recently found a great article on the web about our age's flow of information.

In the middle of the 90s, the writer and novelist Neal Stephenson decided to get down to the roots of data transfer: how is information getting from one side of the world to the other in the blink of an eye.  Taking along a buddy and GPS receiver, he set out on the ultimate geek adventure.  Some tourists travel the grand canyon, some the Amazon River, Stephenson followed the FLAG cable from England to Japan.

Over land and sea, the resulting travelogue resonates with humor, anecdotes, historical precedents, exotic locations, and raw info on the physical reality of data transfer.  It is Voyage of the Beagle in the 21st century.  Though lengthy (about 100 pages), the article is well worth a read for the sheer knowledge it contains about the nuts and bolts of global information systems and the history of the web of fiber optic cables draping the earth.  Anyone interested in computers would certainly enjoy it.

Published at Wired, click here for Stephenson's article "Mother Earth, Mother Board".

Review of "Cryptonomicon" by Neal Stephenson

Cryptonomicon is an imminently enjoyable, complex, multi-layered story buoyed along by  sparkling wordplay, crackling with energy from the first page to the last.  As a novel, the book also represents a major step in Stephenson’s career as a writer.

Maturing greatly since Snow Crash and The Diamond Age, Cryptonomicon is an examination of the importance of cryptology to both the birth of the modern computer and information security in the late 90's dot com scene.  And so while Snow Crash was set in a near-future hyper-capitalist version of the USA, Cryptonomicon remains rooted in familiar settings, the narrative split between the Pacific theater of WWII and the world of international business at the turn of the century.   Those who are expecting action-packed cyberpunk will need to switch to a lower gear to appreciate not only the more sublime storytelling but the wealth of insight and research Stephenson has injected into this 1,100 page tome.  Though digressions on such matters as cryptology and mathematics feature strongly, Stephenson has not lost any of his wit and style, metaphor  taken to a whole new level of whiplash accuracy and zany creativity.  Though not a posterized example of science fiction, the technical elements maintain such presence that it is difficult for the work to be considered anything but, ciphering, decrypting, and the intricacies of our computerized business world featuring strongly.  Who else would make Alan Turing a character in a techno-adventure?

For those who have heard good things about Stephenson’s Baroque Cycle but would like to try something a bit easier to digest prior to digging into that massive eight book work should give Cryptonomicon a try. Otherwise, if you’re looking for a techno-historical adventure rooted in cryptology and computer coding, check this book out, you won’t be disappointed.

Review of "Snow Crash" by Neal Stephenson

Any long lasting band or artist takes their first forays into the public eye with one hand holding ideas of others and the other hand offering ideas of their own.  As they mature and achieve success, a slow transition can be seen in which their own ideas take over and become the trademark style by which they are known.  Snow Crash is from the former stage in Stephenson’s career.  Flashes of brilliance, particularly in the style he would hone in Cryptomicon, appear throughout the plot and dialogue.  The futuristic ideas regarding political autonomy, ultra-capitalism, and scientific development, some of which now seem so commonplace (virtual worlds and lives), were wholly original at the time this book was published and indicate the creative steps Stephenson would later take in Anathem.  

But at heart Snow Crash is a cyberpunk thriller juiced on action steroids.  Lacking the maturity and depth of his later novels, it is defined by over-the-top characterizations (e.g. samurai wielding pizza delivery guy/computer programmer, fearless skateboard punk girl, robo-dog, etc.), James Bond-style world takeover schemes, as well as (ahem) ancient Sumerian artifacts involving secret symbols that require Indiana Jones-esque detective work to unlock.  That it’s written in such an electric style that never seems to stop is a credit to Stephenson’s natural storytelling ability and is certainly responsible for establishing him as a name in the sf world.  But a story with only flashy plot devices remains a story, nothing more poignant or meaningful below the surface to take it to the next level.  

If you’re looking for an exciting, action packed cyber punk thriller with all manner of interesting gadgets and tech, both virtual and real, as well as scenes from a plausible, not-too-futuristic America, then by all means pick this book up, you won't be disappointed.  This is mainstream Stephenson at his best.  However, if you’re better acquainted with Stephenson’s post-Diamond Age writing, this book may come across a little shallow and leave you wanting a more multi-layered examination of themes which tie into the real world. 

Review of "Anathem" by Neal Stephenson

Producing a book that is for once undoubtedly science fiction, Anathem finds Stephenson indirectly picking up where he left off in the Baroque Cycle.  Vast amounts of scientific knowledge are combined with theoretical speculation into a brilliant storyline.  But this one leaves the atmosphere.  

Perhaps his best yet, the events of Anathem begin on the planet of Arbe, a planet roughly analogous to earth in cultural terms, though larger in physical proportion.  Similar to Hesse’s Glass Bead Game, the scholars of Arbe are secluded in technology-free monasteries where scientific theory is studied in lieu of religion.  Accordingly, the book is rife with dialogue concerning the fundamental nature of reality, the possibility of parallel universes, as well as Stephenson’s own terminology and mythos of scientific discovery within the world of Arbe.  It’s difficult to write about the plot without giving away the major event of the book.  However, it can be revealed that the protagonist, Raz, along with others monks, are released into the secular world to resolve an ambiguity that has had the whole planet talking.  Secularites clash with theoreticians who are in turn having internal problems of their own.  How this situation resolves itself is breathtaking in scope, realistic in detail and certainly not of this earth - literally and figuratively.

Like his other books, Anathem is not a book with a moral or message.  Instead, it is an examination of theories and concepts the nerd that is Stephenson finds interesting - the 'what if?'.  That we too are interested in cosmography, camera obscura, chronography, classicism, Cartesian thought, alternate realities, parallel universes, and the like makes us as much nerds as he.  Therefore, if you enjoyed the Baroque Cycle, undoubtedly this book will be worth your while.  Be forewarned, however, Stephenson intentionally set out to include Socratic-style dialogue in Anathem.  If lengthy discussion on mathematics and science is not to your taste, you may want to pass.  I found it indispensable toward backing the turns of plot and speculation, enriching the overall experience.