Quicksilver
First, let's make it clear that Quicksilver is not science fiction. It's historical fiction, occasionally about science, for people who like science fiction, i.e. geeks. It has math, optics, and vivisection, but no computers, no code, and no high-speed pizza delivery.
This is also not a book that gets anywhere quickly. It's 900-plus pages, and it's not padded so much as it is fractal. Stephenson wanders down side tracks, stages elaborate adventures and morality plays, explores philosophical issues and geometric proofs, assembles obscure puns, and drags in all manner of famous people and events, purely for his own amusement. Either you sit back and enjoy the game, or you hurl the book (with effort) at the wall somewhere in the first few hundred pages.
Daniel Waterhouse is a seventeenth-century geek; his father's a prominent associate of Oliver Cromwell, but Daniel's more interested in Natural Philosophy than in decapitating kings and Catholics. At Cambridge, he befriends Isaac Newton; later he becomes sort of a grad student and chief bottle-washer to the Royal Society. He starts out as naive observer of London politics, but over a few decades, gravitates into the intrigues of both the Court and the European intelligentsia. Just as Lawrence Waterhouse befriended Turing in Cryptonomicon, Daniel Waterhouse orbits Newton and Leibniz. It seems to be the fate of Waterhouse men to be brilliant thinkers eclipsed by the geniuses of their age.
Jack Shaftoe is a legend in his own time, a thief and mercenary who propels himself around Europe on sheer balls and avarice. He bumbles into and out of ridiculous scrapes, including an ostrich-chase at the Siege of Vienna that results in his rescue of the slave-girl Eliza from a Turkish harem. Eliza's business savvy draws the pair back across Europe to Amsterdam, where Eliza becomes entwined in both the Dutch stock exchange and the court of Versailles.
Cryptonomicon readers will remember the improbably long-lived Enoch Root, who shows up occasionally to nudge the plot along. Most of the story takes place between 1655 and 1689, but it opens with Enoch in Massachusetts in 1713, interrupting Daniel's efforts to found MIT by presenting him with a summons from England. Daniel spends the next several weeks being chased around Plymouth Bay by the pirate Blackbeard, only to have his plot thread left dangling with no apologies. Either it will be picked up in the sequel, or Stephenson is attaining a new degree of sadism.
Where Cryptonomicon was about secrecy and deception, Quicksilver is about revealing the hidden and the unknown, and the free dispersal of ideas and money. Stephenson uses quicksilver as an unsubtle symbol of the scientific discovery that was beginning to percolate through the known world. He highlights the dichotomy between the religious viewpoint, of a world that began in perfect knowledge and order and has steadily decayed since the Fall, and the scientific viewpoint, of a chaotic world that is slowly being brought into order and the reach of understanding. Much of this understanding was accomplished through the efforts and correspondence of the Royal Society, which operated in a state of excitement, enthusiasm, and confidence that they would decipher the mechanisms of nature: an attitude not unlike that of the dot-com startup era, but fueled more by wonder and less by naked greed.
Lesser writers dump blocks of expository prose into the narrative; Stephenson shamelessly shovels it into his dialogue. As a result, much of the dialogue is stilted, and the banter is painfully odd. You get used to it. Some bits are more blatant than others, such as a dialogue between Waterhouse and Newton and a Jewish prism-merchant, in which Stephenson trots out a brief overview of European coinage of the time, while cycling through a catalogue of synonyms for "Jew."
So, is Quicksilver worth the effort? On the one hand, it's an insightful look at both the Scientific Revolution and the Glorious Revolution. On the other hand, it's got plague, pirates, astronomy, sex, explosions, daring rescues, religious strife, and the profound effect on European history of stockbrokers and syphilis. It's a terrific book, but don't expect it to resemble Stephenson's prior books in anything but ambition and length.
You can purchase Quicksilver from bn.com -- the official release date is September 23rd. Slashdot welcomes readers' book reviews -- to see your own review here, read the book review guidelines, then visit the submission page.
I'll eagerly read it, regardless, but I wonder -- has Stephenson learned to write:
a) an ending
b) a sex scene that doesn't make one cringe
At least with sex scenes, he could just leave them out since he's so obviously uncomfortable writing them. Writing a book without an ending would be tricky, though, and might invite a lawsuit from Lionel Hutts.
What I'm listening to now on Pandora...
You can purchase Quicksilver from bn.com
When you embed a sourceId into the link, it is reasonably ethical to disclose who will be the beneficiary of the referral.
I don't read any books that are part of an incomplete series.
IIRC, the series is mostly complete and each volume is being released at six month intervals.
Where does the school board find them and why do they keep sending them to ME?
This description reminds me of Umberto Eco's "The Island of the Day Before". Eco's book is set in the 1600s and revolves around the search for a method to measure longitude during war and political and religious intrigue.
Maybe if you like this Stephenson book, you'll like that. Eco's books tend to be a little smarter than most people enjoy, however.
This isn't the sort of book where audience reaction follows a Gaussian distribution.
I gave it a 9 because I enjoyed the hell out of it, and I think most of those who made it all the way to the end of Cryptonomicon will too. But it's also going to drive a lot of people nuts, and they should be warned; this shouldn't be anyone's first Stephenson book.
dude, get out more often. :)
In episode 2F09, when Itchy plays Scratchy's skeleton like a xylophone, he strikes the same rib twice in succession, yet he produces two clearly different tones. I mean, what are we to believe, that this is some sort of a magic xylophone or something? Boy, I really hope somebody got fired for that blunder.
Well, first, when IT fucked up all the networked laser printers, he'd parachute into their building, impaling himself mortally on a letter-opener on someone's desk. Then, he'd machine-gun the front-line support staff. Then, he'd lob a few grenades into the server room. Finally, for good measure, he'd jump in there himself to make sure the job got done, going out in a big ball of glory.
Now *that's* some fucking adaptability. If you're going to do it like Shaftoe, you fucking do it right, soldier.
-Looking for a job as a materials chemist or multivariat
So am I interested in another 900 pages from an author without any apparent editor? No. I'm not interested in reading chapter upon chapter of stuff that has absolutely no bearing on the plot, is uninteresting in its own right, and will be forgotten as soon as the next totally unnecessary twist.
The thing that Neal seems to forget is that the essence of writing is deciding what to leave out. Until he figures that out or hires an editor that can make the decision for him, I'll pass.
I did some rudimentary checking on the reliability of Stephenson's research, which is to say, I ran the high points past my sister, who's a historian specializing in the Dutch Golden Age. (On a side note, having received countless calls from friends and family with computer questions; it's pleasant to be on the other side of the equation for once.)
My sister gave a tentative thumbs-up to the general outline of Stephenson's history, and suggested that two of his source books were probably 1688: A Global History by John E., Jr. Wills and Dutch Primacy in World Trade, 1585-1740 by Jonathan I. Israel.
I'm so glad I don't do that for a living.
Stephenson is a really excellent author. Although I'm usually left a bit unsatisfied by his books' endings - particularly Diamond Age - this may only be because at the end of his books I wish there were still five hundred pages to go! He is particularly good at populating his worlds with characters who are, for lack of a better phrase, really exceptionally cool. I can't think of any other author whose characters reach a comparable level of out-and-out badassitude - Gibson doesn't even come close.
:) He is able to present versions of morality and faith that are at once true to their roots and capable of thriving in the modern world. Examples that spring to mind are his descriptions of Juanita's efforts to reinvigorate Catholicism in Snow Crash, his depiction of Avi in Cryptonomicon, and the long homage to Victorianism and Midwestern America that is Diamond Age.
I also think that he pressents some interesting and worthwhile takes on politics and modern society, particularly in his portrayal of the faithful. Traditional religion and social conservatism often end up dismissed and/or mocked in scientific and technical communities, but Stephenson manages to present them in a new light and to depict a world where faith and appreciation of traditional values does not necessarily mean intolerance or being terminally lame.
H4x0r Economist - k33ping d3m0cr4cy l33t 51Nc3 1987
Saturday the NYTimes (reg, you know the drill) reviewed this book. here's the link.
He is consequently ignored by the 'big' literature critics - allways a clear sign of quality -
Um, actually Stephenson's writing has been written up (from Snow Crash through Cryptonomicon) in the New York Times Book Review so I don't know what "'big' literature critics" you're talking about.
Are you talking about academic literary critique? I know for a fact that several universities (those that aren't so Canon-bound; Penn State is one) read Stephenson at the graduate level. Likewise they read PKD and detective fiction. Sure, Martin Amis hasn't written a critique of Stephenson but I bet there is some published work being done.
I assume your problem is the fact that SF is being "marginalized" as genre fiction and not accepted into the Canon along side Ulysses, Old Man and the Sea and Canterbury Tales. Well the problem is that Literary Criticism is interested in 'literature' not 'reading'. A good story is a good story, yes, but that isn't what literary study is about: it is about understanding the way people write. Style, technique, editing. Gravity's Rainbow is considered big not because it reads "well" but because of its post-modern design (i.e. the entire story is parabolic, starting with a single thread, building to a central mass, and then, simplifying at the far tail... tracing the parabolic tragectory of the V-2 rocket at the beginning and the end). For all of Stephenson's positive traits, his writing doesn't expand the landscape of literature.
Literary criticism isn't about reading good books. It's about understanding the theory of writing itself.
What is music when you despise all sound?