
There’s a phrase that is used quite often to promote television movies or special episodes of “Law and Order.” The phrase is “ripped from the headlines.”
This phrase could almost apply to the book I just read. It’s a book about a world ravaged by a deadly disease. The disease spreads so quickly because the world is essentially smaller than it used to be. With air travel and car travel, the ability of a disease to spread around the world is made much easier.
The survivors of this world must ban together and make due with what they have. They must figure out a way to survive and live off what’s left. They must deal with the loss of electricity and running water, as well as cars that don’t function and streets that are blocked by falling trees and decaying infrastructure.
With the Swine Flu in the news and various apocalyptic scenarios being discussed because of the financial markets, this novel is very appropriate to the times. However, I said the phrase “ripped from the headlines” could “almost” apply to the book I just read.
The reason it could not be applied to this book, is because it was written in 1949.
The planet has been overwhelmed. A new and unknown disease of unparalleled destructive force has sprung up almost simultaneously in every corner of civlization, overrunning all attempts to quarantine, all but destroying the human race. One survivor, strangely immune to the effects of the epidemic, ventures forward to experience a world without man. What he, who will ultimately become the last America, will discover will be far more — and far more astonishing — than anything he’d either dreaded or hoped for.
The thing that struck me most about Earth Abides is the fact that, while most people will pigeonhole into the science fiction genre, it’s really just a good story about people. Yes, it’s kind of fantastic in it’s scope, and we really hope this kind of thing never happens, but it’s genuine and realistic in its portrayal of how this kind of event might play out. While there are some people who are a little “off” after the end of the world, there aren’t any strange mutant creatures created by the aftermath of the atomic weapons — just people who really can’t deal with the fact that everyone they know is dead. Kind of an understandable reaction, really.
In fact, even the event that causes the world to come crashing down is down to earth and not too unexpected. The main character of the story is saved, not by anything too mysterious — just a fortunately timed rattlesnake bite. (Before you get too worried about a spoiler, there, this is explained early on in the story.)
What drives this epic story is the main character, Isherwood Williams. Now, having been reading Moby Dick, I don’t think I could deny that shortening his name to Ish and allowing us to think of Ishmael was by no means a mistake. Ishmael of Moby Dick was, for a large part, a spectator. Isherwood Williams is also that spectator, and gives us the ring side seat to this strange event and the events that follow it.
However, while Ishmael of Moby Dick really does just spectate, Isherwood Williams takes a direct part in most everything, creating his tribe and attempting to rebuild society. It’s the way he goes about this, with a strange kind of arrogance brought about by his education, that is very entertaining to the reader. In some ways, Isherwood is a genius, but in other ways, he doesn’t seem to have a clue. He takes great care of his library (book smarts), but has a very hard time dealing with people and their disagreements (street smarts).
Isherwood also develops a great sense of guilt and personal responsibility for the survival of the human race. It’s these feelings that really drive the story forward and create the major conflict.
While this book was written in 1949, I was struck by the fact that never, during the whole time I read it, did it feel dated. References to items such as automobiles and appliances were vague enough that it could have been cars and appliances of modern day as easily as it could have been those of the 40s and 50s. One thing I notice now that I look back, is the absence of computers. Since electricity was gone pretty early on, though, they wouldn’t have been very helpful, anyway.
Overall, I was very impressed by Earth Abides. What starts as an almost cliche end-of-the-world story, turns very quickly into an impressive commentary on the human condition. Highly recommended, even if the only copy you can find is one with browned, dog-eared pages.

There’s a wise warning I’ve heard before: “If someone asks you to trust them — don’t.” It’s one of those expressions that sits in the back of my head, and hopefully makes me a bit more savvy in dealing with others.
It appears that most of the characters in Peter Leonard’s Trust Me never heard of this expression. The two words “Trust me” are used multiple times throughout the book, and each time they are, we (as the all-knowing reader) get to chuckle a bit at the naive people who go along with it.
That’s one of the funnest parts of reading this book. Every time the words “trust me” appear on the page, we know that no one should, but we also know they will, and it’s that irony that creates the environment for a fast shuffle-game of money that is an enjoyable, albeit shallow, read.
The first mistake Karen Delaney made was entrusting $300,000 to her boyfriend, Samir, the head of an illegal bookmaking operation. The second was breaking up with him — because Samir holds a $300,000 grudge. A few months later, Karen sees a way to get her money back when two thieves break into her house in the middle of the night. She proposes a scheme to steal Samir’s safe, but Karen soon realizes she’s in way over her head as things begin to spin out of control.
Trust Me moves at breakneck speed through the affluent suburbs of Detroit and Chicago as Karen is pursed by O’Clair, an ex-con / ex-cop who works for Samir and wants the money for his own retirement; by Ricky, Samir’s nephew, who sees the money as a way to pay off his own escalating gambling debts; by the thieves who’ve been double crossed; and by two ruthless hit men who view the money as their stake in the American dream.
Trust Me wastes no time in setup and throws us down right in the middle of the action. The book opens with Karen Delaney convincing the thieves that broke into her house to trust her, and we soon learn that this is just the beginning of her plans.
The fast-paced nature of the book makes this a speedy read. However, it got a bit tough to follow as we soon have multiple characters chasing both Karen and the money. I had to flip around a bit at the beginning to remember the connections of what I thought were insignificant characters that were suddenly brought into the forefront. As the book progressed, though, and I had everything straight, the fluid nature of the plot became a fun ride.
The most enjoyable aspect of the story is the way people all end up being affected by Karen and her money. Just when you think you’ve got the next step figured out, something unexpected happens. Sometimes in very funny ways, and sometimes in somewhat tragic ways.
While Trust Me presents a fun ride and a twisty chase, I have to say that I didn’t feel there were really truly memorable characters in the book. They were enjoyable, and they served their purpose, but I didn’t feel like I knew any of them by the end of the book.
Even Karen Delaney, the main character, comes off a little thin. Now, after I’ve read the whole book, I’m still not sure whether I’m rooting for her or not. She has a way of using people for her own ends that made me not sympathize with her situation as much as I think the author wanted me to.
I say that while realizing that the focus of this book was not the character development, but the non-stop action the characters were involved in — and Trust Me certainly delivers on that.
]]>Note: This book was sent to me as a review copy. While I try not to let this alter my review, I feel that it is only fair, in the interest of full disclosure, to let you know.

I must admit that I’m intrigued by the whole “Self Help” book genre. I can’t say that I’ve read a huge number of them, but I’ve sampled some. I’ve always been a firm believer that you can learn just about anything from a book, and it’s definitely the first place I go when I’m trying to become familiar with a new concept.
There’s something about self help books, though, that have always given me the feeling that I was somehow cheating. The real big “lessons of life” need to be figured out on your own. They’re like mistakes — someone else can’t make them for you.
Having said that, I was intrigued by the title of Sean Stephenson’s book, Get Off Your “But.” It had a good sound to it, and I’ve always been a proponent of getting up and doing something when you want to solve a problem.
While Get Off Your “But” was a good title, the book itself lacked real meat, and I didn’t feel that it added much original content to the subjects that it presented.
In addition to presenting Sean Setphenson’s unbelievable life story, Get Off Your “But” offers anyone who needs to conquer fears and insecurities a hands-on guide for overcoming the forces of negativity and self sabotage. Sean — a successful psychotherapist — shows what it takes to overcome the big bumps in the road, elimate excuses, end insecurities, and ultimately stand up for happiness and success in life. As sean exaplains, anyone can fall victim to the “Buts”:
“But” Fears (BUT what if I fail…)
“But” Insecurities (BUT I’m not good enough…)
“BUT” Excuses (BUT there’s no time…)
Get Off Your “But” offers a practical guide for putting fear behind you and building the inner resources to become self-confident at work and at home. It’s time to get off your “but” and start leading the life you dream.
Get Off Your “But” breaks itself down into six lessons (Start Connecting, Watch What You Say to Yourself, Master Your Physical Confidence, Focus Your Focus, Choose Your Friends Wisely, Take Full Responsibility). Each lesson describes the authors ideas on the topic, with multiple breakouts into how the lesson impacted his own life. After each lesson, the author also presents a “case study” of someone who put the lesson into practice with positive results.
The first lesson, Start Connecting, was the one I enjoyed the most, as it had the most concrete examples. The ten things that the author learned from Bill Clinton about connection were really interesting, and could be taken away and used almost immediately. However, in many of the other lessons, I didn’t feel that the author gave enough “tools” that were as practical in the real world.
I’ve mentioned in previous book reviews, that there is a difficult balance to strike when discussing a “technical” topic that your audience might not be that familiar with. You have to be careful not to weigh people down with too much technical detail, but you have to be sure not to talk down to them, either. I think on this scale, Get Off Your “But” falls on the latter side of the scale. Many times, the topics are discussed at such high levels as to be oversimplified.
The other thing that struck me with this book, is that I never felt like I had an “a-ha” moment, where the author said something original and unique. I kind of hate to say this, as the author’s personal stories throughout the book show that he really has made it through quite a few challenges, and it’s hard to point to something specific in this, but I just never felt like I was hearing something new.
Along with this are various parts of the book, which had a kind of “inside baseball” feel to it. When the author speaks of his meeting with Tony Robbins, for example, I couldn’t connect with the excitement the author was feeling. At other points in the book, there are also details of the self help and motivational speaking world that I’m just not a part of, so it left me feeling like I wanted to skip over that section.
Of course, having said all of this, the irony of the whole thing is that it’s taken me a good three months to read and write a review of a book called Get Off Your “But”. So, in the end, maybe I’m not the person you should be listening to.
]]>Note: This book was sent to me as a review copy. While I try not to let this alter my review, I feel that it is only fair, in the interest of full disclosure, to let you know.

I’ve talked a couple of times on this site about how I go about picking the next book I’m going to read. The book in this review came to me through a somewhat different route.
I listen to a podcast about technology called This Week In Tech (or TWIT for short). It allows me to keep up on all things tech and is quite entertaining. If you’re like me, and are interested in technology, it’s certainly worth checking out. Not to mention, quite often they talk about books.
In this case, the book was Predictably Irrational by Dan Ariely, and I’m guessing I would not have picked this book up if not for the discussion on the TWIT podcast. However, I’m very glad I did.
When it comes to making decisions in our lives, we think we’re in control. We think we are making smart, rational choices. But are we?
In a series of illuminating, often surprising experiments, MIT behavioral economist Dan Ariely refutes the common assumption that we behave in fundamentally rational ways. Blending everyday experience with groundbreaking research, Ariely explains how expectations, emotions, social norms, and other invisible, seemingly illogical forces skew our reasoning abilities.
Not only do we make astonishingly simple mistakes every day, but we make the same types of mistakes, Ariely discovers. We consistently overpay, underestimate and procrastinate. We fail to understand the profound effects of our emotions on what we want, and we overvalue what we already own. Yet this misguided behaviors are neither random nor senseless. They’re systematic and predictable — making us predictably irrational.
I don’t know that I would have picked this book up under my general meanderings if it wasn’t for TWIT, since books about behavioral science, and more specifically behavioral economic science, really aren’t my usual cup of tea. However, Dan Ariely does a nice job of making behavior economics interesting and entertaining.
One of the most interesting part of this book is the fact that you can very easily see yourself in any of these experiments, and most likely you would respond like the people mentioned in the book. One example of this is an experiment in which the author pretends to be working for a beer company and offers free samples of four different beers to tables of four people at a restaurant. He picks one person at the table and asks which beer he would like to sample, and then goes around asking everyone else. The first person picked the one they wanted the most, but as the author went around the table, the diners inevitably managed to pick all the four types of beer. Now, when the author returned with sheets asking the diners to rate their beers, who do you think liked theirs the best? That’s right, the person who picked first (and got to pick what they really wanted).
Now ask yourself if you’ve ever been at a restaurant and changed what you ordered because the person who ordered before you picked your fist choice. I know I’ve done it, and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t as happy with my meal when it finally did show up.
This book is filled with many things like this. One experiments show that we are unwilling to let options disappear, even when we know those options aren’t worth that much. Simply losing the ability to choose something else scares us.
Another experiment shows that if you want to sell something, create something that’s easy for someone to compare it to. The makers of the first bread machine actually created a bigger, more expensive bread machine just to sell the one they really wanted to sell.
The experiments described in the book are varied and numerous, but the off-the-cuff, “pal sitting next to you” manner in which Dan Ariely writes, makes the book that much more enjoyable. I am the pinnacle of ignorance when it comes to behavior science, so it was nice that Mr. Ariely was able to make the material (which could have been dry) very digestible and entertaining without making me feel like I was being talked down to.
Now, on the other side of that, and my only real complaint about the book, is the fact that in some cases the details of things are glossed over. In certain cases I would have liked to have seen more in-depth discussion of the specific topic being addressed. But that is a small complaint, and an understandable problem with a book such as this.
I enjoyed my walk through the world of the Predictably Irrational, and I thank the folks at TWIT for discussing it and bringing it to my attention.

One of the terms that we use, and I’m sure it’s not unique to us, is the term “Popcorn Movie.” A Popcorn Movie is a movie that isn’t going to change your life or have you walking out of the theater a different person. A Popcorn Movie is an enjoyable action movie. It’s high on special effects, but it’s got enough plot and dialogue that you don’t feel like you’re watching a series of explosions tied together with nothing. Popcorn Movies are good movies, and ones that are worth seeing at the theater so you take advantage of all the sound and spectacle that they carry with them.
Alex Berenson’s The Silent Man is the book equivalent of a Popcorn Movie. It’s not going to redefine a genre or change the way you think about the world, but it will take you on an enjoyable, fast-paced ride through international intrigue.
CIA agent John Wells thought he’d reached his limits when he nearly died while stopping a plot that could have drawn the United States and China into war. Wells is exhausted and his nights are filled with disturbing dreams, but he knows he must gather his strength. He has made many enemies, and the world won’t stay quiet for long.
Nevertheless, he is not prepared for what is about to happen. Wells and his colleague — and fiancee — Jennifer Exley are on their way to work at Langley when traffic comes to a standstill. An accident has blocked the bridge ahead. Wells begins to get a bad feeling, a feeling that gets worse when he spots the motorcycle zooming up between cars toward him. Within a few minutes, several people will be dead or severely injured. Exley among them, and Wells will be a man possessed.
Wells believes he knows who is behind the attack. He wants revenge for himself, despite the pleas of his bosses at the CIA, and even of Exley, that he wait. But as he tracks his adversaries to Russia, and then Europe, he will find much more than he expects. An Islamic terrorist plan of unimaginable consequences is in motion. As he tries to stop it, Wells will have to decide how much his honor is worth — and whether he can face losing the woman he loves.
As I said in the introduction, The Silent Man is the book equivalent of a summer blockbuster. I don’t know that there’s really anything new in the story, which mainly comes down to stopping a terrorist plan to set off a nuclear device within the United States. It does carry you through that story, though, and at a pretty quick pace.
The moments of suspense are scattered throughout, though occasionally they come to a very quick end via the brash, off-the-cuff actions of the main character. He’s not what you would call a cerebral agent, he’s more the beat people up, ask questions after (if you can) kind of agent.
This does present one of the aspects of the book that I didn’t really like. It’s not just this book that has done it, but it’s a trend I’m noticing in quite a few books like it. It essentially comes down to the fact that the characters of the “Bad Guys” were actually more sympathetic than the character of the “Good Guy.”
Early on in the book, part of the action follows the bad guys as they attempt to steal the nuclear device from it’s storage facility in Russia. It’s a delicate balancing act at this point, because it was done in a way where you were really rooting for the guys to actually get away with it. It’s a strange feeling, because I really shouldn’t be hoping for that.
That comes through in other parts of the novel as well, especially since the character of Wells is very brash and almost irresponsible in regards to the people around him. So not only did I find myself sympathizing with the bad guys, I found myself not really liking the good guy. As I say, it’s a balancing act, because you need to set up suspense on both sides of the fence, but in a book such as this, the lines almost need to be more defined between good and bad.
With that said, in the end, The Silent Man delivers an enjoyable experience and doesn’t try to be what it’s not. Just make sure to have your popcorn handy.
]]>Note: This book was sent to me as a review copy. While I try not to let this alter my review, I feel that it is only fair, in the interest of full disclosure, to let you know.

The Tale of Desperaux by Kate DiCamillo is one such book. It had me encouraging my daughter to pick it for the read of the night, just so I could find out what happened next.
As the subtitle of the book states: “Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup and a Spool of Thread.” The Tale of Desperaux is a story of a mouse and princess. As with any great love story, they meet at the beginning of the book, are separated, and must find one another once again. Along the way our brave mouse faces dangers, including rats, dungeons and a cook. To find out the rest, you’ll have to read it yourself.
At it’s heart, The Tale of Desperaux is an old-fashioned adventure story reminiscent of King Arthur, Don Quixote or The Three Musketeers. The writing style of it’s subtitle even suggests this as it’s “Being the Story of…” is very reminiscent of many works of romantic literature.
It doesn’t hide from that fact either. Desperaux, our hero, learns to read, and is inspired at the beginning of the book by a story of a knight and his princess in a very Don Quixote manner. It’s details like this that make the story enjoyable to the parent reading the book, as these allusions would sail right past the little ones being read to.
However, never do the allusions to other literary forms or the more complex vocabulary (”perfidy” for example), get in the way of the story telling. My daughter never once complained that the story was getting boring. I did get a few “what does that mean”s, but that’s to be expected, and most of the time the author herself came to my rescue.
At many points the author also asks questions of “my dear reader.” These were nice breaks from the story, and I was frequently impressed with my daughter’s answers to the questions.
Another way that this book is like older adventure stories, is that it doesn’t shy away from death or actual danger. Multiple characters die throughout the book, and the pain and grief felt by the characters affect their actions. It’s refreshing to read a children’s book that doesn’t think the world is made up of rainbows and soft kittens.
Some may take from this that the book might not be good for younger children. However, I don’t think that’s the case. My daughter (who is five and a half) had no problems with it, and actually educated me on how much she already knew about death and dying anyway.
There are some negatives about the book. First, the narrative switches between a few characters, and there are long stretches of time where we don’t see the “main” characters. When we came back, both my daughter and I had to remind ourselves of where that character had left off. This might not be as noticeable if you’re reading the book in a few sittings, but at a chapter or two a night, it threw us off. Second, and it goes along with the first point, is that in switching the narrative focus the author also travels back in time to tell concurrent parts of the story. Again, this threw us off a bit.
Overall, though, a really great story, and one I’m sure my daughter (or maybe just me) will read again when she (or I) gets older.
Who would like this book: Most any young child. Probably preschool or kindergarten as the youngest, mainly because of the discussions of death. I think young adults would also like this. Heck, adults, too. (Did I say that already?)
Who would not like this book: It does focus quite a bit on the “love” story, so some older boys might find that a bit tougher to swallow. It’s not incredibly fast-paced either, so those with shorter attention spans might get frustrated with it.
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Also, I must disclose that this review, while not being written by her, was heavily influenced by the reactions of my 5-1/2 year old daughter, Amanda. She has helped out by giving me full access to her own critical reactions to the work.
So we’ll start with overall critical reaction: “I really liked it, Daddy.”
Ralphina, the roly-poly is sad because she gets lonely in her garden and wants a friend to play with. But she is so small that nobody seems to notice her. With her mommy’s encouragement, Ralphina digs up a clever solution to her loneliness and in the process learns that she has a lot to offer in friendship. (Did you notice the little play on words there? Get it…digs…garden? Ha!). Discover how friendship can make your world blossom in all the colors of the rainbow, and also learn stuff that I am willing to venture you don’t know about these adorable little garden dwellers.
Ralphina, the Roly-Poly is a wonderfully illustrated story of creativity and friendship that also exposes children to some fun facts about roly-poly bugs (or what I use to call “Pill Bugs”). The colors used in the illustrations are vibrant and all over the rainbow (which is another subject that we get some fun facts about). The storyline was easily understood by my daughter, Amanda, and she commented that she liked how the main character made a friend, because “making friends is a way to be nice to people and a way to have fun.”
The aspect that my daughter liked the most was the colorful flowers throughout the story. When asked which was her favorite part, she wasted no time going to the picture of the roly-poly painting the flowers the color of the rainbow.
Ralphina, the Roly-Poly makes a great bed-time story as it’s just the right length, and leaves on a very happy note. I also like the fact that Ralphina herself comes up with the idea of how to make her friend. This emphasizes individual creativity and working towards a goal. Overall, a very good children’s book.
]]>Note: This book was sent to me as a review copy. While I try not to let this alter my review, I feel that it is only fair, in the interest of full disclosure, to let you know. The author was also nice enough to sign the copy with a personal note to my daughter, which was fantastic.
Kurt Vonnegut is one of those authors that has made enough of a name for himself that he scares people away. I’ve encountered many people who have never read Vonnegut because they thought he was too “heavy” and “literary” to read.
The funny thing about this, is that Vonnegut generally writes books that are very readable. Granted, there is a depth to his work and usually some kind of humanitarian message, but it’s usually presented in a very readable, and oftentimes humorous, fashion.
Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut is one of those eminently readable books, and in my opinion, one of the best of Vonnegut’s works.
The story is about Rabo Karabekian, an abstract expressionist artist somewhat akin to Jackson Pollack. We first meet Rabo as he is getting on in the years and is living with his friend Paul Slazinger along with his collection of abstract expressionist art that he’s collected along his life.
Enter Circe Berman, a free-spirited author who challenges Rabo and turns his life upside down a bit. The greatest thing that Circe does for the reader is convince Rabo to write his autobiography, which is what the remainder of the book consists of.
In true Vonnegut style, we flash between past and present as we learn about Rabo’s life growing up at the same time we see him dealing with Circe and his life as it is now.
The two most enjoyable aspects of Bluebeard are the characters in the book and the art that they create. Rabo himself evolves as a character during the novel, and watching this evolution is most of the fun of the book. He goes from a child to a teenager apprentice, to a soldier, to a middle aged artist, and then finally to the cranky old man we meet at the beginning of the book.
Each station in his life is interesting to watch. One of the scenes (or series of scenes) that really sticks with me is when Rabo is apprenticed to an artist named Dan Gregory. Mr. Gregory really didn’t want to have an apprentice, so in an effort to make Rabo go away, he forces him to draw a room in his house down to the most miniscule detail. Each time Rabo does, Dan Gregory finds some fault with it, and tells Rabo he has to do it again. The irony of this is that Rabo does it again and and again, each time doing better and becoming a better artist along the way.
The art that is created along the way is also very interesting. Though much of the book actually dals with more “concrete” art (such as the drawings of Dan Gregory’s room), many parts of the book revolve around abstract art. One of the pieces described is a large set of three huge canvases that are all painted one color. I’ve never really understood abstract art myself, but there is a good explanation that Rabo gives during the course of the book. I won’t say specifically what it is here, as it is one of the more poignant scenes of the book, but it makes sense when it’s all said and done.
I highly recommend Bluebeard to pretty much anyone who reads. I know Kurt Vonnegut is known for his “science fiction” type works, but there is nothing of that in this book. It is as down to Earth as books can get, and it has affected me in different ways each time I’ve read it.

But ask yourself, when was the last time that you really did that? When was the last time you really stopped and focused all of mental efforts on one thing?
Anathem by Neal Stephenson, is about just that. What happens when you take the thinkers of the world and allow them to seclude themselves from all other worldly distractions and really focus on thinking?
Fraa Erasmus is a young avout living in the Concent of Saunt Edhar, a sanctuary for mathemeticians, scientists, and philosophers, protected from the corrupting influences of the outside “saecular” world by ancient stone, honored traditions, and complex rituals. Over the centuries, cities and governments have risen and fallen beyond the concent’s walls. Three times during history’s darkest epochs violence born of superstition and ignorance has invaded and devastated the cloistered mathic community. Yet the avout have always managed to adapt in the wake of catastrophe, becoming out of necessity even more austere and less dependent on technology and material things. And Erasmus has no fear of the outside – the Extramuros – for the last of the terrible times was long, long ago.
Now, in celebration of the week-long, once-in-a-decade rite of Apert, the fraas and suurs perpare to venture beyond the concent’s gates – at the same time opening them wide to the welcome the curious “extras” in. During his first Apert as a fraa, Erasmus eagerly anticipates reconnecting with the landmarks and family he hasn’t seen since he was “collected.” But before the week is out, both the existence he abandoned and the one he embraced will stand poised on the brink of cataclysmic change.
Powerful unforeseen forces jeopardize the peaceful stability of mathic life and the established ennui of the Extramuros – a threat that only an unsteady alliance of saecular and avout can oppose – as, one by one, Erasmus and his colleagues, teachers, and friends are summoned forth from the safety of the concent in hopes of warding off global disaster. Suddenly burdened with a staggering responsibility, Erasmus finds himself a major player in drama that will determine the future of his world – as he sets out on an extraordinary odyssey that will carry him to the most dangerous, inhospitable corners of the planet … and beyond.
At it’s core, Anathem is an adventure story. The main character, Erasmus, must essentially take on a quest to save the world and his friends, and in order to do so, he must make a monumental journey. Along the way, he encounters challenges and risks, meets new friends and makes new enemies.
However, what makes Anathem different from your run of the mill adventure story, is the conversations, thoughts, and debates that take place along the way.
Erasmus is essentially a monk. Instead of studying religion, though, he is in a concent that studies thought itself and everything that is created from thinking and science; philosophy, math, physics, and so on. While the “monks” do not create anything practical, they are consumed with thinking about debating about everything.
Whole sections of the book are debates between the monks in areas of philosophy, math and physics. I was reminded in a few places of the dialogues that take place in Plato’s Republic. In fact, I would say that the reader would do well to know Plato as well as basic physics and mathematics to really follow the book. Stephenson does a good job keeping the pacing of the conversations going, but he does not necessarily “hold the hands” of the reader.
For me, the conversations and debates were the most interesting parts of the book. They really get you thinking about thinking, and you can tell that Stephenson has an incredible grasp on some very complex subjects.
One of the more surprising aspects of the book is that it doesn’t take place in the past. In fact, it doesn’t take place on Earth, but on a planet called Arbre. Arbre, from a technological standpoint, is probably just a few decades ahead of where Earth is today.
These are all things you find out in the introduction, so don’t worry, I’m not giving anything away. In fact, the introduction is almost a kind of “crib notes” for the story, and give you some good background.
Even with the introduction, though, there are many aspects of the book that the reader will have to puzzle through on their own. For example, since everything takes place on a different planet, all the theories and authors of theories are different. Plato’s theory of forms becomes the Hylaen Theoric World. The Pythagorean Theorem becomes the Adrakhonic Theorem. Even things as simple as cell phones have different names (jeejahs). I think I was about halfway through the book before I really had a good strong handhold on things.
Overall, Anathem was an enjoyable read. The characters are interesting and unique. The storyline, for the most part, draws you along, and even the puzzling out of concepts within the book is enjoyable.
That said, the book could probably have been a couple hundred pages shorter without losing much. There are some repetitive scenes within the book where Stephenson is really trying to drill in a concept. During some of these I was thinking, “Okay, I get it. Can we move on now?”
The greatest thing about this book is that it does make you think about thinking, and by the end it had my brain thinking in different ways.
]]>Note: While reading and looking into this book, I discovered the Long Now Foundation. The goal of this foundation and the way it thinks about the world is fascinating, even more so because it’s not science fiction.

When something new comes out that I’m excited about, I build up my expectations to the point the that the actual thing could never meet those expectations.
My friends still ridicule me over my hatred for the Mission: Impossible movie. I had expected so much out of this movie, that when it didn’t deliver, I was extremely disappointed. Many people have told me that the movie wasn’t great, but that it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be either.
I was excited for Orson Scott Card’s Ender in Exile. As I’ve mentioned before on this site, I thoroughly enjoyed Ender’s Game and was hoping this book would be a worthy sequel.
Perhaps my expectations were too high. In any case, this book did not meet them.
The story of Ender in Exile picks up almost where Ender’s Game leaves off. In fact, it picks up the storyline a few chapters before Ender’s Game ends. Ender has defeated the Buggers (who everybody now calls Formics) and conflict has started among the nations back on Earth. This conflict keeps Ender from being able to happily return to his home planet. This “exile” allows Ender to join a colony ship header to one of the worlds previously inhabited by the Buggers, where Ender will become governor.
From Ender’s Game we know most of that synopsis of the story, so this book is concerned with the details of the trip to the colony world as well as some of the happenings on the colony itself. There is conflict with the captain of the ship, an older officer who believes that Ender is too young to hold the post of governor. We also get a glimpse into the world of the colonists as we watch them shape the world as they wait for Ender to arrive.
The task of writing a sequel for a book like Ender’s Game is challenging, because the original book itself felt very complete. You have a hero who completed a task well. You had great training sequences and great conflict that was all resolved by the end of the book. The only thing really left hanging was a gap in time at the end of the book. That was where Ender in Exile wanted to fit in.
The storyline of the Ender-related world already has a couple of branches. Starting with Xenocide, we pick up Ender’s story a few hundred years into the future. He’s still alive due to traveling in ships at speeds that cause the theory of relativity to come into play. So while the trip for him is only two years, for people still living on a planet, forty years pass. Since Ender in Exile happens so fast after Ender’s Game, there’s not much worry of the time lines of Ender in Exile and Xenocide really “hitting” each other.
The other thread that was already in place started with Ender’s Shadow, a book about Bean, a fellow soldier in Ender’s army of children. This book was written as a “parallel story,” and follows the story of Ender’s Game from Bean’s perspective. The story is a part of a series that continues with Shadow of the Hegemon, Shadow Puppets and Shadow of the Giant. The stories in these books do coincide with the story in Ender in Exile. They include the story of the people back on Earth while Ender is traveling to the new colony.
Orson Scott Card mentions in various places, including the teaser video I included on this site, that this book can be read standalone without having read Ender’s Game. I would disagree with this. In fact, I would say that you have to have read almost all of Orson Scott Card’s Ender-related works to really “get” the whole story. There are characters and conflicts that are briefly introduced and that culminate in the final conflict of this book that I barely had a hold on. I’ve read some of the other sequels (and parallel stories), but as the different storylines in the other books progressed, I began to lose interest and did not finish either of the “spin off” series. This left me with large gaps in conflict and character that Ender in Exile assumed I understood.
For a large part of this book, the main conflict is between Ender and the captain of the colony ship, Admiral Morgan. Admiral Morgan doesn’t believe that Ender is really qualified to be governor of the colony and plans to take over when the ship arrives, keeping Ender around as the governor in name only. The “battle” between these two takes place without a shot fired and with almost no direct contact.
What I didn’t like about this conflict was the fact that Admiral Morgan never really came off as a worthy opponent for Ender. He is stupid enough to think that Ender, who defeated an entire alien race, doesn’t have any strategic skills.
In all great stories of one man against another, the abilities of the antagonist come very close to matching the abilities of the hero. The best “bad guys” are the ones that you end up rooting for at some point in the story, because their intelligence and plan is well made. In this book, the bad guy never had a chance and the resolution of the conflict leaves you fully understanding that fact.
Another thing which bothered me about this book is that there were multiple characters who we came to know through the story that were essentially thrown away before the end of the book. Part of this comes from the fact that the trips that Ender makes cause people not on the ship to age must faster than him.
However, even some of the people on the ship with Ender end up being “dropped off” the story line when they become inessential. I felt kind of robbed by this. One character, Alessandra, was essentially a main character through most of the story. She doesn’t play a part at all in the last six chapters, though she is still around. The same goes for a biologist, Sel Menach, who is a very intriguing character but who gets left alone about the same time Alessandra does.
I got the feeling that this book was written essentially to tie up some loose ends in some of the other Ender-related works. The problem was, it didn’t have a good feel to it. The bulk of this book comes off as a story written to make the trip that Ender took interesting so that he could get to where he needed to be for the “real conflict” to take place. Once he was there, the other stories just got in the way, so they didn’t continue along. Not having read some of other books, I didn’t feel that I had enough invested in the final conflict.
Overall, I was disappointed with this book. There were some highlights, though. The character of Sel Manach was intriguing, as was the work he had to do in order to keep the colonists safe. Alessandra and her mother were also interesting characters to watch, and were given enough background to be three dimensional.
If you’ve read all of the Ender books and enjoyed them, then this book will probably serve as a necessary puzzle piece in the whole history, but I didn’t feel that it had enough new material to stand alone.
Of course, maybe that’s just my high expectations getting in the way again.
]]>Note: This book was sent to me as a review copy. While I try not to let this alter my review, I feel that it is only fair, in the interest of full disclosure, to let you know.