Death Is Bad

Echopraxia, by Peter Watts

Synopsis: A biologist joins a crew to retrieve a sample of an alien life form, and becomes embroiled in the machinations of competing post-human intelligences.

Book Review: The novel follows a baseline (non-upgraded) human, in a world that contains post-human intelligence (groups of humans that have self-modified and networked their brains, as well as a new species of human with vastly superior cognitive abilities). The first half of the book seemed to go extremely slowly. Not because things weren’t happening – there was a lot of action. But the protagonist’s actions didn’t seem to affect anything. They didn’t drive the story forward. It was slow even though the plot and pacing were fast. If you keep reading, you eventually realize why this is.

Because the post-humans in this novel are the equivalents of Lovecraft’s Gods.

Lovecraft is very popular nowadays, especially among people who’ve never read him. Cthulhu has huge name recognition, yet most people know him as a gothed-up Godzilla. Maybe that’s because if you do read Lovecraft now, he’s not that scary anymore. But you can still get the idea of what he was going for. Various sources (as well as my reading) postulate that the essence of Lovecraft is to make humanity brutally insignificant, through the use of opponents so powerful they can’t be opposed, and so alien they are incomprehensible. It doesn’t work in Lovecraft’s writings that well (anymore) because the unknown areas he was exploiting are less unknown now. We’ve been off this planet a few times, space is less mysterious. The deep ocean isn’t as murky. Psychic powers have been shown to not be real. Etc.

It’s been said that a good translator doesn’t translate a work directly on a line-by-line basis. A good translator writes the book that the author would have written if the author spoke the language natively.

This is the book HP Lovecraft would write if he was writing today.

The reason the protagonists actions don’t seem to affect anything is because he is a pawn, and the real players are post-humans. Every action he is contemplating has already been taken into account and incorporated. His decisions are as determined and integral to the real player’s strategy as the falling of a domino, and he has as much ability to alter his fate as that critical domino piece. But it is impossible for him to really know that, he can only determine it after the fact when it looks like everything he did appears to have been exactly what was planned for. So he has to keep believing that he can affect his own life, that his decisions are his to make, as an article of faith. Because maybe they really DIDN’T foresee the next thing he’s doing! The book is a relentless, non-stop campaign of seeing that faith crushed again and again and again. At every turn humanity is utterly powerless, their efforts are futility. Greater forces are now the true players. It is a bleak hellscape of hopelessness.

What’s worse is that we can’t even comprehend what the post-human minds are up to. We are literally incapable of grasping it all, which is why it is never explained. You can catch some hints of the plot of the book if you look hard, but always only in retrospect, and it never fully makes sense. The only way to write a story of a post-human conflict for human readers is to leave them as lost and confounded as the protagonist, because any plot a human could understand wouldn’t be post-human, would it?

And the mood of the writing constantly reinforces the murkiness. Not only are all the sets stark, and too dim or too bright, and rotating, and off-kilter; not only are all the ambient sounds clicking and scratching and buzzing; not only is everyone always holding something back and slightly out of touch… oh no. Watts even goes so far as to make the world require a lot of cognitive effort to understand. He doesn’t say something like “They crashed into an aircraft carrier,” and then proceeds to describe the crashing. He will describe the sensation of being thrown about, and screeching metal sounds, and then take you outside and describe the metal surfaces you are viewing, without ever saying the words “crashed” or “aircraft carrier”, so you have to figure that out for yourself. I don’t know if that was intentional, but it is fatiguing and it makes the world harder to understand, so reinforces the theme of “you are too small to grasp this”.

The isolation in this book doesn’t come from something quaint like being far away from people. It comes from humans slowly enfolding themselves in their own private groups and sub-groups more and more, wrapping themselves up in technological filter bubbles, until all that’s left is themselves. The insanity doesn’t come from looking at something eldritch, it comes from deliberate psychological and physical manipulation spread over a long period to drive you to a desired mental state that is not your own. And the horror of corruption isn’t just something ugly growing in your body, it is the twisting of your own mental processes until gradually you are no longer you… and you know it, but can’t stop it.

This is a horror novel, IMHO. I generally don’t find horror scary. This scared the living shit out of me. For the couple weeks I was reading it my IRL mood took a very dark turn, my life was unpleasant, and things sucked. This is a powerful and amazing book, and it should come with a memetic warning. If you can weather a temporary mood disruption, read this book. If this is not a good time in your life, or you’re worried about downward spiral effects, avoid it like the plague.

This is easily my favorite book of the past year, and I will not forget it for a long time.

Highly Recommended, given the previous warning.

Book Club Review: It feels like Watts is writing to a very specific audience. Readers of SF Horror who are familiar with the transhumanist scene and are somewhat smarter than me. And he doesn’t care if anyone not in that audience understands a single word of what he’s saying. I admire this, but it also makes the book less appealing to a wider audience.

If you can get to the message of the book, you have a lot to talk about. How should we proceed as we inevitably start leveling-up humans? Is it worth pursuing, given the costs? Is it, when you get down to it, basically a new form of genocide?

We got hung up on “What is the plot? Can we figure it out? Can we fill in the holes in our knowledge?” IMHO the answer is “Maybe a little, but not to a degree that matters, and look that’s really not what we should be focusing on. The whole point was that it’s incomprehensible. Let’s focus on the message Watts is pushing.” But the temptation was too great. The discussion was not as satisfying as it could/should have been, nor as in-depth. I’m not sure if this can be blamed on the writing style of the book, but it’s possible. If the emotion of a piece is so strong that it drowns out the message, that’s a flaw.

Still, we had things to talk about, it certainly wasn’t a boring evening, and the novel is great. Give everyone the memetic warning beforehand, ask if they want to expose themselves to a temporary vector of despair like this. If everyone consents – Recommended.

Last Call, by Tim Powers

Synopsis: A dark Gaiman-esque retelling of The Fischer King legend, mixed with Tarot mysticism and gambling, set in the early 1990s.

Book Review: An interesting tale. It kept my attention and moved quickly. It is filled with a delightful plethora of psychotics who are all demented in new and interesting ways, and you cheer when they finally meet their well-deserved doom. The creepiness of the story reminded me strongly of Stephen King, although I’ll admit I have actually read very little Stephen King, so that’s more of an impression than a statement of authority. I liked the treatment of alcoholism as well. Powers pulls in many aspects of many myths, creating a very rich mythical stew that is savory to read.

However, something about it felt lacking. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe because I’ve always thought gambling is dumb? Or because the particular myths Powers chose for this book don’t inform my upbringing, and so didn’t mean anything to me on an emotional level. Perhaps because I couldn’t figure out why the hell anyone would want to be the King in the first place. It comes with a truckload of shit, and not a single discernable benefit. Why no, I don’t care to needlessly complicate and endanger my life for no reward. The ending also fell flat, which was a bit disappointing with such a strong foundation. It builds and builds but doesn’t go anywhere. It’s a fine book, but I didn’t get anything out of it, so… Not Recommended.

Book Club Review: A pretty good book for book clubs. It reads fast and there’s a lot to like. Due to the previously-mentioned deep mythological roots there will be a lot to discuss if one or more people in the group are well-versed in those myths, or English Lit generally. We kept talking for quite a while, and went over time. Certainly no one disliked it. If you have other options I’d suggest keeping this one at the back of the list, but you could do a lot worse. Mildly Recommended.

The Steerswoman, by Rosemary Kirstein

Synopsis: A rationalist monk investigates why the wizards of her world want to destroy her order

Book Review: I’d heard this was a rationalist novel. I was not disappointed. Much of the meat of this book is in applying the tools of thought and observation to puzzle out what is happening, or to evaluate options and choose between them. Clues are fed to the reader constantly, some just before the puzzle’s solution is presented, others far in advance, and several things are left unknown to the protagonist at the end of the story which we as the reader have figured out (though we do have a massive advantage which I won’t get into due to major spoilage). A lot of the remaining action is in the domain of subterfuge and misleading your opponents, while attempting to see through their subterfuges. Unfortunately the writing of actual physical action (there are a few fight scenes) is kinda clunky. It doesn’t feel exciting, and it’s hampered by over-analysis, which takes the urgency out. That’s ok, I’m not here for the fight scenes, but it does detract from the book a little.

It endeavors to teach the reader a usable skill as well. I was pleasantly surprised to see the protagonist say (not literally, but close enough) “I notice I am confused” and go on to explain that there is no confusion in reality, and therefore something she thought she knew about the world is incorrect, and now she must find what it is. Written almost 20 years before Yudkowsky’s Sequences, and yet the similarities were astounding. Rationality is timeless. :)

The humanist/transhumanist ideals are there as well, from the protagonist’s deep-seated emotional aversion to spreading untruths, to the statement at the end that while the villains can kill individual rationalists, they can never defeat human progress, and thus as long as it’s possible for humans to grow in knowledge the villain will ultimately be defeated. It’s good stuff!

And the primary conflict is between value systems rather than good-vs-evil, which again fits the rationalist motif.

But is it a good story, you ask?

Yes. It is. The writing is solid (although there is an epidemic of people laughing their dialog that felt unrealistic). The plot keeps moving at a strong pace, and the characters are likable and relatable. So much so that I was angry at one of the characters when she did something reprehensible, and I was sad when one of the villain’s lieutenants was killed. There’s one really gripping scene near the beginning that gut-punched me with its unexpected tragedy – a prime example of no one being evil but the system being broken – that I won’t forget for some time. It has some rough patches, and a few errors I could do without, but overall it’s a good book, and I’m glad there’s another rationalist novel I can point to proudly. Recommended.

Book Club Review: If you’re not a rationalist, the novel isn’t quite as enthralling. As I said, it’s a good story, but it’s not stellar. I was told that the rough parts stick out more when you aren’t enamored with it. And it turns out that if you aren’t reading with some attention it’s possible to miss the puzzle altogether.

Also of interest – a couple readers couldn’t figure out the Steerswoman’s motivation, so the entire thing felt kinda rambling and unfocussed to them. At first I was confused. “What do you mean there’s no motivation? There’s an existential threat against their entire way of life!” It turns out that for people who don’t already deeply identify with a philosophy of pursuing truth and growing the knowledge base of all mankind, if an outside force threatens to both curtail all explorations of certain phenomena and permanently hobble the scientific spirit… that’s not really a big deal. I know, that sounds crazy to me too! But I guess not everyone places as much importance on those ideals, so they don’t see why others would risk their lives to defend them.

There are some great things for rationalists to talk about if they read this. There are a couple instances of the Steerswoman failing at rationality, which make for good topics. More importantly, there are a couple of systemic flaws in her order’s approach to rationality that really seem very glaring in my opinion. The merits of these are arguable, and one can speculate as to whether this was intentional on the author’s part and will be addressed in later books, or was oversight.

There were plot points that non-rationalists can discuss as well, in particular a couple moral decisions/shirkings that happen near the end which spark a fair bit of emotion. But in the end all I can say is that, as an aspiring rationalist, I am completely unable to say whether or not this book is a good recommendation for book clubs in an objective way. I liked it, and I am excited about it. If you are an aspiring rationalist as well, and you want to expose your book club to rational fiction, and they’ve already read Blindsight, this is a good book to go with.  With the caveat that my judgment is colored – Recommended.

The Golem and the Jinni, by Helene Wecker

Synopsis: An unlikely love story in turn-of-the-century New York.

Book Review: This is a solid story about two fish-out-water characters who come to rely on each other in a strange world. It hooks you early with a fairy-tale style, then builds slowly, establishing all the major characters firmly before it brings them together. The more you read this book the more you want to keep reading it, but it never feels unbearably urgent. It is an altogether pleasant read, it wraps up everything well, and it features strong characterization and an interesting plot. While all this is good, it’s not entirely enthralling either. If this was all there was to the book I’m not sure I’d recommend it. I don’t have a ton of free reading time, and simply being good isn’t quite enough IMHO.

Fortunately, there is more. The Jinni is a fire elemental, with exactly the personality to match (passionate, flighty, irresponsible); whereas the Golem is an earth elemental with the matching characteristics as well (solid, dependable, conservative). At first one thinks this is simply good writing, but the more I read the more I became convinced that these two characters represent the male and female genders and the book is about gender relations and the chains of biology in a pre-reproductive-control society. The men can be reckless, they do not have to suffer the consequences of their actions. This allows them freedom to pursue their whims and passions. The Jinni does what he wishes, often carelessly destroying lives without knowing he’s doing it, without a care in the world. He is unconcerned with the trouble he could bring to his immigrant community, he doesn’t understand concepts like limiting yourself out of concern for the unfair ways the world may punish others. He behaves as if the world is fair, because he’s never the brunt of any injustice. The women, OTOH, must bear the fallout of men’s bad choices. They are expected to be always restraining the men, and always policing their own actions, because it’s their lives that are ruined by a mutual decision. And society reinforces this, doubling down on the pressure put on women and freeing the men, in a sick game of piling-on.

It’s a very effective metaphor in multiple ways. The Golem starts out the property of a man. Her father-figure tries to find a kind, new master for her when the first man dies. Her destiny is always to be bound to a man. Interestingly, she even desires this – when she’s free she’s uncomfortable. And even while she’s free she’s always serving others, and always tailoring her actions to comfort and appease those around her. Both out of desire and out of fear. The claustrophobic feeling of being a woman in an institutionally sexist society is palpable.

It isn’t all roses for the Jinni either. When he’s wounded and his fellow Jinni arrive he’s very concerned about hiding his weakness, which is an aspect of male culture you don’t see engaged very often – the constant fear of showing any weakness and always having to project a strong front can be very isolating. Particularly when you actually need help.

This aspect of the book increases my enjoyment of it a good deal, so yes, Recommended.

Book Club Review: Not surprisingly, this book makes for some fairly good talking. In addition to the gender themes there is some commentary on both religion and free-will/determinism which allows for further discussion. Plus portrayal of immigrant culture and ghettos in the early 1900s. Combined with the book’s natural charms and a very comfortable length, it is likely this will get a good percentage read-completion and involvement from everyone attending. Again, Recommended.