Dank Snow Crash genießt Neal Stephenson Kultstatus unter Science-Fiction-Fans und Technologie-Freaks. Das Buch hat die konventionellen Vorstellungen der High-Tech-Zukunft derart neu definiert, dass es zu einer sich selbst bewahrheitenden Voraussage wurde. Wenn dieser Cyberpunk-Klassiker groß war, dann ist Cryptonomicon riesig, enorm, gewaltig -- nicht nur aufgrund seines schieren Umfangs (circa 900 Seiten), sondern auch in seinem Reiz. Es ist der zeitgemäße, lesenswerte Nachfolger von Die Enden der Parabel und der Illuminatus-Trilogie. Darüber hinaus ist es auch das erste Buch einer geplanten Serie.
Cryptonomicon zoomt durch die ganze Welt und rast verschwörerisch zwischen zwei Zeiten hin und her -- dem Zweiten Weltkrieg und der Gegenwart. Die zwei Helden aus den 40er-Jahren sind der glänzende Mathematiker Lawrence Waterhouse, ein außerordentlicher Kryptoanalytiker, und der übereifrige, morphiumsüchtige Bobby Shaftoe von den US-Marines. Sie gehören zum Sonderkommando 2702, einer Alliiertengruppe, die versucht, die Kommunikationskodes der Achsenmächte zu knacken. Gleichzeitig ist sie bemüht zu verhindern, dass der Feind dahinter kommt, dass ihre eigenen Kodes bereits geknackt sind. Unter dem Strich besteht ihre Aufgabe aus einer Täuschung nach der anderen. Dr. Alan Turing, der ebenfalls zum Sonderkommando 2702 gehört, erklärt Waterhouse die seltsame Arbeitsweise der Einheit: Wenn wir einen Konvoi versenken wollen, schicken wir erst ein Beobachtungsflugzeug hinaus... Das Observieren ist natürlich nicht seine eigentliche Aufgabe -- wir wissen schon längst, wo sich der Konvoi befindet. Seine eigentliche Aufgabe besteht darin, selbst beobachtet zu werden... wenn wir dann kommen, um sie zu versenken, schöpfen die Deutschen keinen Verdacht.
Diese ganze Geheimnistuerei spiegelt sich in der Gegenwartshandlung wider, in der sich die Enkel der Weltkriegshelden -- der unnachahmliche Programmierfreak Randy Waterhouse und die schöne und starke Amy Shaftoe -- zusammentun, um in Südostasien eine Offshore-Datenoase zu schaffen und nach Möglichkeit auch den Verbleib von Gold aufzudecken, das für die Schatulle der Nazis bestimmt war. Um den paranoiden Ton der Geschichte abzurunden, taucht der mysteriöse Enoch Root, einer der Topangehörigen des Sonderkommandos 2702 und der Societas Eruditorium, mit einem nicht dechiffrierbaren Verschlüsselungskonzept aus dem Zweiten Weltkrieg auf, um die Protagonisten von 1990 mit verschwörerischen Verbindungen zu verwirren.
Cryptonomicon ist von der ersten bis zur letzten Seite Neal Stephenson vom Feinsten: knapp in der Handlung, aber erschöpfend präzise im Detail. Jede Seite enthält eine Mathematikaufgabe, einen zitierbaren Insider-Witz, eine faszinierende Idee oder ein Stückchen beißender Prosa. Cryptonomicon ist zudem voll gepackt mit wahrhaft seltsamen Figuren -- irren Technologie- und Kryptofreaks und mehr Kryptologie, als man jemals brauchen wird -- vom gegenwärtigen Computerjargon einmal ganz abgesehen. Vorsicht: Wenn Sie dieses Buch in einem Zug lesen, könnten Sie einer Informationsüberlastung (und dem Hungertod) zum Opfer fallen. --Therese Littleton
Cryptonomicon
My friend Stuart's reading this and I stupidly started spoiling one of the best lines in the book (it pops up as Shaftoe's motto) and he was mildly irritated with me. Fortunately for him, he is vastly smarter than me so while he was quite generously acting annoyed he was probably thinking to himself, Maybe one day I will spoil math and engineering and the details of Riemann zeta functions for Conrad. Now I'm rereading it out of sympathy and it's even better than I remembered.
Anyway, while I haven't yet approached the implosion that I know is coming toward the end, I am really even more impressed at the catholicity of Stephenson's concerns than I was the first time I read the book. He has insightful things to say about information theory, natch, but also Tolkein, postmodern literary criticism (OK, he's a little reactionary about this, but he's also right), the wisdom of joining the Marines, childrearing, Filipino architecture and urban planning, facial hair (can you tell I love Randy's diatribes about Charlene?), Ronald Reagan, the assassination of Yamamoto and associated dilemmas of cryptanalysis, Papuan eating habits, the 90s networking bubble...
If you don't like writers who have something interesting to say about everything, I don't know why you read. If it bothers you that Neal Stephenson uses his characters as mouthpieces to voice his well-considered opinions on everything from the prospects of economic growth measured against the likelihood of revolution in the Philippines, for example, to the details of Japanese tunneldigging, then you might as well settle in with your Danielle Steele and be done with it. Stephenson knows a lot about everything, and that's unusual and should be treasured. As a stylist, he's no Hemingway. His stories have beginnings and middles but the ends are usually catastrophically bad. So what? He reveals enough about his subjects that you usually leave his books behind with the feeling that your brain is now fused in a slightly different way. And good for Neal Stephenson, and good for us. Neal Stephenson I'm shocked by the critical acclaim this book received in the sci-fi category but I suppose even a turd can float. Two stars is really pushing it. Maybe a star for the number of laughs I got per 100 pages. This is the work of a technically inept egomaniac. He does have some technical background (he drops Unix hints and anagrams the name of a supposed deity who dies and then later comes back w/ no explanation??) However, it's not enough “savoir faire” for any of the content to make sense. It might sound dangerous to some but just plain stupid to computer geeks such as myself. It's obvious that this is not his first book by the way that the author is allowed to recklessly abandon the main plot (or any of the 4 sporadic narratives) for 70-100 page tangents. If he hired a first yr EE student to clarify some basic principles, snipped about 500 pages and got some ritalin, this book might be tolerable. Like many technical books or movies, I was utterly disappointed.
Why did I continue? First, it was a gift and I would feel ungrateful if I didn't give it a fair chance. Secondly, there are many alternating plots that the reader would naturally be led to believe that the lives of these men parallel each other in a different time and place. If you like mysteries, you can almost imagine how these people are related. This would have made the book entirely more interesting. But then nothing. I finished the book and whipped it across the room. Later, I skimmed the last half of this 900+ PAGE SLEEPER to see if there was an overlooked morsel of evidence that made all these separate lives connected which would have made all of the silent pain and suffering from that book worth something. Nothing. Exactly what I got from the book: nothing.
Neal Stephenson I am FINIIIIIISHED! I thought it didn't have an ending! I thought Neal Stephenson kept sneaking to my house and inserting more pages in the back while I was asleep! I thought he would never be appeased until I begged him to stop with a deck of cards, morse code and a wide variety of pleading looks!
This is a massive boy book. A MASSIVE boy book. It's got overwhelmingly male characters, and they do really boy things, like coding, and shooting things, and drawing logarithmic graphs about the last time they masturbated. I kept being surprised that I could open this book and it didn't immediately smell overpoweringly of old canvas and sweat. And I say this in the most endearing way, generally speaking - the characters in this book have no idea, none at all!, that I am not One Of Them, so I got to romp about with the best of them, messing about with submarines and mid-nineties hacker politics.
I should probably tell you at this point, that two of my favourite things as a mid-teenager were vintage pen-and-paper codebreaking and rambly adventure stories, so I was in my element. This book is very exclusive in many ways and I am sure that in any other context I would get the rabbit in headlights look of someone who knows they're about to be accused of being a fake geek and who doesn't know *quiiite* enough what they're talking about to put those (wholly ridiculous) accusations to rest - but as it was, for most of the time I was reading this, it was me and my comfy chair and my knitting and the printed word of Neal Stephenson, and I could slot myself into that narrow band of intended audience and roam around at my leisure. This book is a boy book, and while I was reading it, I was a boy. Which is a cack-handed way of saying that I am a nerd and I don't get to talk about polyalphabetic ciphers you break with frequency analysis and a pad of graph paper very often, and Cryptonomicon made me feel as much at home as I could possibly have wished for. Which is nice.
It's also a cack-handed way of saying I feel, in some way, like I shouldn't have felt at home? It was so chock-full of Tech Men and Soldier Men and Men Who Do Things Despite Slash For Their Womenfolk, that I genuinely felt like I was empathising on the wrong side of the divide at some points. Like I was having to sneak in and pretend I had a metaphorical moustache. Very odd. Ladies of Goodreads, is that a thing you understand? Men of Goodreads, when you read something very female led, like say Jane Eyre, or Rebecca, or whatever it is you emancipated chaps read these days, how do you feel? I've rarely felt that this strongly (*cough*Gorky Park) it was very odd. At any rate I am interested by how/how strongly this manifests itself in other people.
Back to the book! It's an info-dump; there is almost more info-dump than plot. Some of it I knew already and that was comforting, some of it really fired me up for playing with numbers a bit more. While I've been reading this book, I've been occasionally meeting a friend who's teaching me the basics-and-then-some of statistics, and I get the same feeling from that of channeling my enthusiasm into something practical, something that someone else is excited about as well. I liked the info-dump.
It starts off really slowly. There is basically no plot for probably the first two-fifths; certainly the first third. It is full of inside references and totally devoid of beginning, middle or end. If this bothers you, don't read it. It bothered me, for a while - that's why I put it down and came back a few months later. Or that's one of the reasons. The other reason is that it's NINE HUNDRED PAGES LONG AND NEAL STEPHENSON IS STILL TALKING.
In the end, I put it aside often, but always came back. There are very few books I can say that about, and of the others they were almost entirely written by Frenchmen. This book is not like those books. If you ask me, it's worth having a go at, and if you get 60 pages in and go cross-eyed at the tiny font, don't worry. You won't have missed much, and it's a nice place to come back to. I might even read it again, but it probably won't be for a while. A long while. Neal Stephenson Cryptonomicon.
A >1000 page tech info-dump comfort read. Yes, comfort read,
I think this is my fourth read of this wonderful novel and it just keeps on giving. I'm still picking up new subtleties, offhand comments that I missed, imagery that was lost on me on the last time through. There is a reason why this is one of my favourite novels and why Stephenson is my favourite author.
Cryptonomicon is the story of money, value and information. Lawrence Waterhouse, a math genius, works alongside Alan Turing at Bletchley Park and responsible for misinformation and broadening the bell-curve. Alan cracked the codes, but how do we not let the enemy know we have broke the codes? Along comes Corporal Bobby Shaftoe and Detachment 2702 to ram battleships into Sweden, plant fake listening outposts and search for morphine at every chance.
In the late 1990s Randy Waterhouse, Lawrence's grandson, is setting up a tech business with an old buddy in the aims of setting up a data haven in a fictional asian sultanate. They get embroiled with some dodgy characters and make a business deal with Bobby Shaftoe's son and granddaughter. Underwater salvage.
There is much overlap here, with WWII events directly impacting on those 1990s events. It's dense, erudite, full of what many would call too much information, but any decent nerd will bask and revel in. It's not a book you read for a while, it's a book you live in for a month. You'll be thinking about it at the bus stop. It will sometimes stop you in your tracks hours after reading.
“Ronald Reagan has a stack of three-by-five cards in his lap. He skids up a new one: What advice do you, as the youngest American fighting man ever to win both the Navy Cross and the Silver Star, have for any young marines on their way to Guadalcanal?
Shaftoe doesn't have to think very long. The memories are still as fresh as last night's eleventh nighmare: ten plucky Nips in Suicide Charge!
Just kill the one with the sword first.
Ah, Reagan says, raising his waxed and penciled eyebrows, and cocking his pompadour in Shaftoe's direction. Smarrrt--you target them because they're the officers, right?
No, fuckhead! Shaftoe yells. You kill 'em because they've got fucking swords! You ever had anyone running at you waving a fucking sword?”
This book is a treasure. It is pure fun and escapism into a crude, adventurous world of maths, espionage and hidden messages. My 1999 edition with bible-thin paper is battered, folded, yellowed and as floppy as you'll feel when you finish it.
Neal Stephenson 2015 reread: In World War II, Bobby Shaftoe is a Marine, and Lawrence Waterhouse is a cryptographer. In the present, Randy Waterhouse is part of a tech start-up in the Phillipines. How are the two threads linked, other than by the mysterious Enoch Root?
Okay, so this kitten squisher is a lot more complicated that but after 1200+ reviews, it's hard to come up with teasers some days.
As noted above, this was not my first time reading Cryptonomicon. I first read it when it was published, way back in the bygone days before the world moved on. When it popped up for $1.99 on one of my cheap-o emails, I snapped it up.
This mammoth tome is classified as science fiction but could easily be looked at as historical fiction since the sf element is minuscule. Neal Stephenson weaves together multiple plot threads, three during World War II and one in the present day, and produces a fine tapestry of a novel.
On one hand, you have Randy Waterhouse, part of the Epiphyte corporation, a start-up dedicated to creating a data haven in the Phillipines. On the other, you have the converging tales of a Marine named Bobby Shaftoe, a cryptographer named Lawrence Waterhouse, and Goto Dengo, a Japanese engineer. As diverse as the elements are, Stephen manages to bring everything together. Eventually.
I was an apple-cheeked young lad when I first read this, back when the internet was still new to most of us. Now, as a curmudgeon 15 years older, I still enjoyed reading it quite a bit. Despite my usual intolerance for digressions, and this book has many, I found it hard to put down for long. The bits of history, cryptography, and the proper way to eat Captain Crunch all held my attention.
In the years between my first read and this one, I'd forgotten how hilarious this book can be at times. Lawrence Waterhouse is a bit like Sheldon Cooper of The Big Bang Theory, only less likely to have the shit kicked out of him on a regular basis if he were a real person.
Funny how some things never change, though. My gripes the first time through were my gripes this time. While I enjoyed the journey, the writing could have been tightened up a bit. I felt like Stephenson was driving around looking for a free parking space when there was already one pretty close to the door. Also, a part near the ending, which I will not spoil here, came out of left field and felt tacked on, unnecessary, and kind of stupid. Also, I maintain that Stephenson hasn't written a great ending since Zodiac. Other than that, I thought the book was pretty great. Four out of five stars. Neal Stephenson
SUMMARY À PDF, eBook or Kindle ePUB ´ Neal Stephenson
Disclaimer: Had Mr. Stephenson been more skillful in his prose/characterization/writing in general, I would not have paid nearly as much attention to the following issues. I read a lot of old dead white guy type literature, and am pretty forgiving so long as it's good. If it isn't, well, this happens. That is all.
Do not be fooled by the static nature of the star count above. If I had my way, it would be a roiling maelstrom of a typhoon crashing into lava, erosion and explosion steaming and spilling into a chemical equilibrium of monstrous proportions. It would be a much more appropriate way of symbolizing that there were parts of this that I loved immensely and others that still cause my vision to go red whenever I think on them for too long. However, as that is not a possibility without my use of GIFs to illustrate my point (Two words: Never. Ever.), you'll have to take my more long-winded approach to the matter.
Mr. Stephenson is the type of character that, if allowed onto a college campus, should be kept safe and locked away in the mathematics department. The physics department is a possibility, and computer science perhaps, maybe even biology, but the decreased removal from reality present in these areas increases the risk that this individual poses. This isn't a man you want teaching a history class or, god forbid, one of literature. Unless the literature class is completely devoted to math fiction (Or is it fanfiction? Not sure about that one), because every so often something gorgeous happens.
If he would just work with pure ideas like a proper mathematician he could go as fast as thought. As it happens, Alan has become fascinated by the incarnations of pure ideas in the physical world. The underlying math of the universe is like the light streaming in through the window. Alan is not satisfied with merely knowing that it streams in. He blows smoke into the air to make the light visible. He sits in meadows gazing at pine cones and flowers, tracing the mathematical patterns in their structure, and he dreams about electron winds blowing over the glowing filaments and screens of radio tubes, and, in their surges and eddies, capturing something of what is going on in his own brain. Turing is neither a mortal nor a good. He is Antaeus. That he bridges the mathematical and physical worlds is his strength and his weakness.And that is the closest Mr. Stephenson gets to melding together beautiful prose with stunning mathematical dexterity. If he stuck with that, this review would much more positive, and probably a lot shorter. But, since he didn't, let us continue.
Now, there are multiple categories of anger-invoking pidgeonholing, enough that I feel that pidgeonholing the categories themselves would best convey the point of it all.
First off, Race:
Randy figures it all has to do with your state at mind at the time you utter the word. If you’re just trying to abbreviate, it’s not a slur. But if you are fomenting racist hatreds, as Sean Daniel McGee occasionally seems to be not above doing, that’s different.No. No. No no no no no. Did I stutter? No. It doesn't matter what the utterer's mindset is, period. What matters is the context of the utterance, the horrible history of its usage and the culture that it denigrates. So sorry that the word 'Japanese' is too long and difficult for some people to say/type/convey to another person for long periods of time, but they're going to have to deal with it. Their personal convenience doesn't matter in the slightest.
Second, Religion:
In other circumstances, the religious reference would make Randy uncomfortable, but here it seems like the only appropriate thing to say. Think what you will about religious people, they always have something to say at times like this. What would an atheist come up with? Yes, the organisms inhabiting that submarine must have lost their higher neural functions over a prolonged period of time and eventually turned into pieces of rotten meat. So what?I don't know if this is supposed to be satire, and I don't care. The message is bad enough, as once again, lack of spiritual beliefs is being confused with lack of morality/sympathy/empathy/what have you. Some may not believe this, but the human race is perfectly capable of acting decent and, dare I say it, humane towards its fellow beings, without religion. Amazing, isn't it. Moving on.
Next, Women:
I wish I was joking when I say that there is too much material for me to possibly convey in this review without pushing the limits of absurdity. So I will condense it into some bullet points.
One: There is a popular maxim in this book that holds women to be an effective means to an end of ultimate manly productiveness. Not only that, but women for some reason are completely aware of this, and manipulate men accordingly via controlling the rates of fornication permitted to those with a Y chromosome. Yes, because that's all there is to sex, isn't it. Love is just some barter system of producers and consumers, and any notion of emotional connection or meaning beyond it is a lie propagated by the chemicals seething in your body. Now, the latter half of that last sentence is biologically sound. I would hope that everything that came before it is some kind of ridiculous satire, but if it is, Mr. Stephenson's writing did not seem to think so.
Two: The definition of the words SEXUAL ABUSE and RAPE was expanded to include pursuit of relationships where 'power imbalance' is denoted by differences in economic status and/or physical capabilities in defending oneself. Again, I wish this was satire, but its delivery made it highly unlikely. And even if it was satire, it's not in the least bit funny or ethical to make light of rape culture in such a fashion. If the recent events of Steubenville and its aftermath haven't made that clear, nothing will.
Three: And we couldn't possibly finish off this whole debacle without a good old fashioned Men are from Mars Women are from Venus spiel. In the author's own words, those who put a higher priority on having every statement uttered in a conversation be literally true vs People who put a higher priority on social graces. Then you get the typical longwinded 'it's not you it's me' excuse, and finally:
What I'm saying is that this does set me apart. One of the most frightening things about your true nerd, for many people, is not that he's socially inept—because everyone's been there—but rather his complete lack of embarrassment.
Which is still kind of pathetic.
It was pathetic when they were in high school, Randy says. Now it's something else. Something very different from pathetic.
What, then?
I don't know. There is no word for it. You'll see.
Hint: The word you're looking for lies on the long scale that ranges from close-minded to bigoted asshole. Take your pick.
Finally, your Miscellaneous:
…the post-modern, politically correct atheists were like people who had suddenly found themselves in charge of a big and unfathomably complex computer system (viz. society) with no documentation or instructions of any kind, and so whose only way to keep the thing running was to invent and enforce certain rules with a kind of neo-Puritanical rigor, because they were at a loss to deal with deviations from what they saw as the norm. Whereas people who were wired into a church were like UNIX system administrators who, while they might not understand everything, at least had some documentation, some FAQs and How-tos and README files, providing some guidance on what to do when things got out of whack. They were, in other words, capable of displaying adaptability.Atheists are not in charge of anything, and in fact are one of the most hated demographics in the US. Look it up. Also, don't you think those who have to build up from scratch would be a little more adaptable than, say, the user manual types who are still squabbling over a particular patch of verses regarding a certain sexuality? A demographic that Mr. Stephenson made repeated efforts to proclaim that he was okay with, coincidentally. The thing about being a 'nice guy', no one's going to give you a cookie for pointing it out. That's not how it works.
In addition, if the phrase 'politically correct' was replaced with 'respects those who are different despite lack of understanding of their cultural heritage', and seen as less of a political theory pertaining to the liberals and more of a methodology of encouraging greater social well-being, the world would be a better place. And there would be less theories like the one in this book running about, which states that the only way to avoid Holocausts is to make sure the victims get proper guerrilla training. Very reminiscent of the current debacle over gun control.
But anyways. tl&dr version: Mr. Stephenson is your typical white male nerd that resides in the US. Smart in his specific field, little bit racist, little bit misogynistic, and screws up any attempt to try and claim otherwise. The prevalence of this attitude would've chopped the stars down to one, but he did write a 900+ book filled with some pretty interesting mathematical acrobatics and WWII business, so that added a star to the final result. Neal Stephenson Reading this book was a lot like riding in a car that steadily picks up speed and then stalls out. I wanted to like it a great deal more than I ended up doing.
I would be trucking along, really getting into it, starting to get eager about turning the page and finding out what was going to happen next, and then...some reference to hairy-legged academic feminists or the Ejaculation Control Commission or those things women always say to manipulate men and my enjoyment would come to a screeching halt.
Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the recent changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook Neal Stephenson Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson, is to techno-intellectuals as Bryant-Denny Stadium is to redneck college football fans: it is a monument.
According to Stephenson in this very enjoyable, but lengthy book nerds won the Second World War and are keeping global society free from tyranny nowadays.
Weighing in at 1168 pages, this behemoth saddles up to the literary buffet line alongside Atlas Shrugged and War and Peace. How does a book this big get published and how does an author achieve that goal much less make it entertaining, endearing and just plain good to read? By being expertly written by a very talented author, who is also funny, making similes and metaphors that frequently made me smile and sometimes even laugh out loud.
Neal Stephenson comes across like a geeky Jonathon Franzen, blending erudite sci-fi qualities with meticulously crafted characterizations and rolling all into a cocoon of an intricate plot almost as puzzling as the cryptograms that form the foundation of the story. Comprising two related time lines that slowly blend together, Stephenson held my attention, sometimes making it difficult to put the book down.
Like Snow Crash, Cryptonomicon (with a title that is a nod to Lovecraft) works on multiple levels and establishes parallels between times and generations.
Finally, this is an allegory for the information age and brilliantly illustrates that our treasure is where our data can be found.
Neal Stephenson One of the problems when reviewing Cryptonomicon is that you could easily end up writing a short novel just trying to summarize it. Here’s my attempt to boil the story down to its essence.
During World War II, Lawrence Waterhouse is a genius mathematician who is part of the effort to break Japanese and German codes, and his job is to keep them from realizing how successful the Allies have been by faking events that give the enemies reasons other than compromised codes to pin any losses on. Marine Sergeant Bobby Shaftoe had to leave behind the woman he loves in the Philippines when the war broke out in the Pacific and after surviving some brutal island combat, he finds himself assigned to a unit carrying out dangerous and weird missions that seem to have no logical goals.
In the late ‘90s, Waterhouse’s grandson Randy is an amiable computer geek who has just co-founded a small company called Epiphyte that has big plans revolving around the booming Internet in the island nations of southeast Asia. As powerful people with hidden agendas begin showing an interest in Epiphyte’s business plan, Randy hires a company in Manila owned by former Navy SEAL Douglas MacArthur Shaftoe to lay an underwater cable. That’s just a sideline for Doug and his daughter Amy who primarily work as treasure hunters. When they make a startling discovery, it links the personal history of the Waterhouses and the Shaftoes to a lost fortune in Axis gold.
That makes it sound like a beach thriller or airplane read by someone like Clive Cussler, right?
But I didn’t mention all the math. And code breaking. And the development of computers. And economic theories. And geo-politics circa 1999. And how it was ahead of the curve about personal privacy. And it’s about a thousand pages long. And there's some other stuff, too.
Plus, Neal Stephenson doesn’t feel the need to conform to anything close to a traditional three act narrative structure. He’s also often the writing equivalent of Clark W. Griswald in the movie Vacation since he’ll cheerfully divert his readers four short hours to see the second largest ball of twine on the face of the earth.
Sprinkled among all this are appearances by real historical figures like Alan Turing and Douglas MacArthur. So what you get is a book that should be a mess of infodumps and long tangets that ultimately don’t have anything to do with the story. And quite frankly, the ending is kind of a mess, too.
So whenever I read criticism of Neal Stephenson, I shrug and concede that there are many things about the guy that should make me crazy as a reader. However, the really odd thing is that he doesn’t. I’ve pretty much loved every book of his I’ve read despite the fact that I could list his literary sins at length.
What’s great to me about Stephenson is that it’s so obvious that he loves this stuff. When he takes up a whole chapter laying out the mathematics behind code breaking, it’s his enthusiasm for the subject that helps carry my math-challenged ass through. He’s not giving us elaborate histories or explanations because he did the research and wants to show off, he’s doing it because he’s a smart guy who is excited about something so he can’t help but go on at length about it.
The other factor that redeems him for me is his sense of humor. No matter how enthused Stephenson is, it’d still break down in the delivery if he didn’t pepper his books with some hilarious lines. Sometimes even his long digressions are done solely in the interest of delivering the funny like a parody of a business plan that includes gems like this:
“Unless you are as smart as Johann Karl Friedrich Gauss, savvy as a half-blind Calcutta bootblack, tough as General William Tecumseh Sherman, rich as the Queen of England, emotionally resilient as a Red Sox fan, and as generally able to take care of yourself as the average nuclear missile submarine commander, you should never have been allowed near this document. Please dispose of it as you would any piece of high-level radioactive waste and then arrange with a qualified surgeon to amputate your arms at the elbows and gouge your eyes from their sockets. This warning is necessary because once, a hundred years ago, a little old lady in Kentucky put a hundred dollars into a dry goods company which went belly-up and only returned her ninety-nine dollars. Ever since then the government has been on our asses. If you ignore this warning, read on at your peril--you are dead certain to lose everything you've got and live out your final decades beating back waves of termites in a Mississippi Delta leper colony.”
It’s also easy to overlook how these seeming digressions help build the entire story. When Randy is trying to retrieve some of his grandfather’s papers from an old trunk, he gets embroiled in his family’s attempts to divvy up his grandparent’s belongings. Since the family is made up of academics a whole chapter becomes a description of a mathematical formula based on an x-y grid laid out in a parking lot that allows family members to place items according to both sentimental and economic value while Randy has to try to find a way to diplomatically claim the papers. There’s no real reason for this scene, and it could have been cut entirely or boiled down a few lines about a family squabble. But the whole chapter is funny and tells us a great deal about Randy and his background by putting him in this context. It doesn't accomplish anything else plot wise, but it’s the kind of scene that makes this book what it is.
Even as a fan of the way he works, I still wish Stephenson could tighten some things up. The goals of Epiphyte and Randy shift three or four times over the course of the novel, and the drifting into and out of plots gets very problematic late in the game. It also seems like Stephenson had a hard time determining exactly who the bad guys in the 1999 story should be.
I should also note that although this is billed as a sci-fi novel as well as being nominated for and winning some prizes like the Hugo and the Locus, it really isn’t. There’s one small supernaturalish element that gets it that reputation, but I’d call it historical-fiction if I had to put a genre on it.
Even though this is a book that really shouldn’t work, the great thing about it is that it mostly does, and it’s just so damn clever at times that I can’t help but admire Stephenson.
Related material: The Baroque Cyle is the follow-up/prequel to this that delves even further into the history of the Waterhouse and Shaftoe familes. These are my reviews to the three hardback editions, but those were such kitten squishers that it was also broken up into a longer series of paperbacks.
Quicksilver
The Confusion
The System of the World Neal Stephenson
Pretenses are shabby things that, like papier-mache houses, must be energetically maintained or they will dissolve.Neal Stephenson has written an overlong novel focusing on the significance of cryptography both in the world today and the time of World War II. He links the two by using multiple family generations. The predecessors inhabit the early cryptographical universe of Turing and others, dealing with cracking German and Japanese cyphers. The latter family representatives are trying to develop a secure cryptography that will support the creation of a global monetary system, based on gold stashed in the Philippines near the end of the war.
Neal Stephenson - from the LA Times
Stephenson provides considerable payload here, providing details of cryptography then and now, and considerable analysis of gold as the basis for economic structures. He also tells us much about how business is done when global actors are creating the information economies of the future.
There is no shortage of action here. But it is at the expense of character development. To the extent that the players have an inner life, it is radically overshadowed by the external events in which they are involved. The female characters are barely explored here, hardly more than window dressing to the experiences of the men, with considerable emphasis on their looks. This was unwelcome.
Still, I enjoyed the book. It is an engaging read, and worth the trip for the information it conveys.
Review first posted - February 17, 2017
Published - May 1999
PS - I received this book as a gift from a rocket-scientist nephew in 1999. I wrote most of the above back then, but it was not posted until 2017.
=============================EXTRA STUFF
Links to the author’s personal, Twitter, Google Plus and FB pages
Other Stephenson books reviewed
-----2019 - Fall or, Dodge in Hell
-----2015 - The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O.
-----2015 - SevenEves
-----2011 - Reamde Neal Stephenson