Having enjoyed my one and only Christopher Moore book, the excellent "Fool," I decided to start investigating the rest of the canon. I was at least partially motivated by Scott's observation that many of his books take place in the Bay Area. I like the Bay Area, and I like fiction, so combining the two can be a real winner.
"Practical Demonkeeping" actually takes place near Big Sur, which may be even cooler than the Bay Area. Berkeley and other local cities get their props as well, and much of the book is steeped in a quintessentially Northern Californian attitude.
MINI SPOILERS
This was Moore's first book, and it kind of shows. Reading this felt a little like reading The Big U: both are fascinating snapshots of a writer with a lot of raw talent who is working his way towards the great writer he will become. In this case, Moore already had a great sense of humor, a good ear for dialog, and an interesting plot. His main weakness here is actually the same as Stephenson's weakness in The Big U: it feels like he has trouble with his characters. Some are much more developed than others, some feel kind of inessential, and a few seem inconsistent.
That isn't a real criticism, though. The book as a whole definitely works, I just like complaining about things.
The plot was pretty good. I think I'm spoiled by Gaiman; any other author who integrates mythology and/or religion into a contemporary work has some seriously stiff competition. The demonic aspect was rather Miltonic - interesting, but nothing that hasn't been done before. The djinn aspect felt a little tacked-on... maybe it's just my Western prejudices, but I have a hard time comparing the power of a genie to the power of a devil.
But, anyways: the actual storyline, and the whole bit with Catch being bound by rules but still basically free to do what he wanted, was done well.
I got a real kick out of reading an early-90's contemporary novel. There were so many things in here that would have seemed totally natural at the time but feel like anachronisms now. Like smoking in restaurants, and aerobics programs, and BBS's.
END SPOILERS
"Practical Demonkeeping" wasn't as good as Fool, but it was still good enough to keep me interested in Moore. I'm looking forward to retracing his progression. Ahh... it feels so good to finally get another author whose work I can devour without waiting in agony for another book to come out.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Friday, July 02, 2010
Ash
I think I first encountered "Under the Volcano" as a context-free question in Scholastic Bowl. Back in high school, my role on the team focused on literature, history, politics, and geography. Some of it was stuff I already knew, but a lot involved me memorizing lists of things that might come up in a tournament. I'm amazed at how much of that stuff has stuck with me. Some of it might still come in useful if I ever attend cocktail parties (the names of the six wives of Henry VIII), while others will be uselessly occupying precious brain cells for the remainder of my life (Dan Glickman was Secretary of Agriculture and Rodney Slater was Secretary of Transportation while I was playing Scholastic Bowl).
Anyways, a good chunk of memorization had to do with the authors of various important books. This ended up being at least slightly useful outside the game, as it made me look more knowledgeable than I really was. In Scholastic Bowl, you're primed to immediately hit the buzzer the instant you know the answer; to this day, when someone mentions the name of a book, I immediately say, "Oh, that's by [fill in the blank], right?" It makes me look like I know what they're talking about, even though I often know absolutely nothing beyond the names. Hooray for useless knowledge!
So it was with "Under the Volcano." That really sounds like an exciting book, doesn't it? Just based on the title? Maybe a "Land of the Lost"-style adventure, with modern people passing through a volcanic range to encounter pre-civilization dinosaurs. Or maybe it's more of a Morlock thing, with a civilization of people living beneath a volcano. Or maybe an apocalyptic science-fiction story, where evil men plot to trigger a volcanic explosion to destroy the earth.
MINI SPOILERS
Well, turns out that it's none of those things. It's about a drunk mid-level British diplomat.
It's a very well-written book about a drunk mid-level British diplomat, I should say. After I got over my initial disappointment, I started to appreciate the book a lot more. To manage expectations: it's much more on the order of, say, Joyce, in that it's a densely written, intricate and interesting book; its plot does not excite, but its characters and language do.
Three main characters dominate the story. The most important is The Consul, Geoffrey Firmin. He's a British representative who has traveled around the world, and recently been stationed in Mexico. The book is set in the 1930's, with the backdrop of the Spanish Civil War and the Mexican Revolution. Britain has withdrawn its consuls, so Geoffrey is remaining without any real reason to be there. He's drunk, but not just because of that. Drunkenness permeates his entire life, his entire thinking. We gradually learn that his drinking goes back years and years, and was the direct cause of the most traumatic event of his life, his divorce from Yvonne; the divorce, in turn, further drove his drinking.
The Mexicans in the town call him "borracho," and with good reason. Some view him with pity, others with disdain, a few take advantage of him. He lives his entire life in... not exactly a fog, but in an altered state of reality, under the influence of alcohol. Malcolm Lowry uses a third-person omniscient narrator, who in each chapter is attached to the thoughts of a particular character. It's exhilarating and creepy to see the Consul's thoughts spinning out of control, both in speech and in his own head. He has a great education and is very knowledgeable, but now all the structure has fallen apart, and what comes out of his mouth is a kind of stew, with lots of jumbled-together references and allusions that don't add up to anything.
It's hard to decide how to relate to the Consul. He's pathetic, but in a way that feels slightly endearing. We get to know him better once Yvonne (re-)enters the picture. She still has feelings for him, and desperately hopes to rescue what remains of him from his self-destructive drinking. She isn't an angel either, but is an epitome of rationality compared with him. Rounding out the trio is Hugh Firmin, Geoffrey's much younger brother. Hugh has led an exciting life as a songwriter, sailor, cowboy, and mercenary; however, Hugh is plagued by feelings of inadequacy, and constantly longs for a sense of authenticity that he seems unable to achieve.
Possibly the most amazing aspect of Under the Volcano is the way that Lowry explores and expands the lives of his characters. We get to feel like we know the characters soon after they're introduced, but later chapters drastically revise our understanding of them. We learn about Yvonne's history as a childhood actress, of which Hugh isn't even aware; her experiences with fame at that early age help us understand why she acts the way she does. Conversely, Yvonne has no idea that Hugh is a talented guitarist, and he actively hopes that she doesn't find out, so determined is he to erase this part of his history.
Huh... it just occurred to me that this might be a major theme of the book: erasure. Geoffrey drinks to drive away his despair; drinking doesn't make him forget, but it does dull his pain. Hugh took to the sea to destroy his image as a child of privilege; he gave up his songwriting career; he abandoned England to fight in other wars. Yvonne may be the one creative member of the trio, with her dream of an island farm in Vancouver.
END SPOILERS
Under the Volcano was a fairly difficult book to read. Geoffrey's drinking can be amusing, but it's also really awful. The writing is so dense that it takes a lot of concentration to absorb; it doesn't fit in that well with my habit of reading on public transit, and I ended up reading most of the book at home. I think I would have gotten a lot more out of it if I'd read it back in school; I'm pretty confident that I missed a ton of allusions and themes in there. Still, the text is strong enough to be enjoyed on its own, and I'm glad I made the effort.
Anyways, a good chunk of memorization had to do with the authors of various important books. This ended up being at least slightly useful outside the game, as it made me look more knowledgeable than I really was. In Scholastic Bowl, you're primed to immediately hit the buzzer the instant you know the answer; to this day, when someone mentions the name of a book, I immediately say, "Oh, that's by [fill in the blank], right?" It makes me look like I know what they're talking about, even though I often know absolutely nothing beyond the names. Hooray for useless knowledge!
So it was with "Under the Volcano." That really sounds like an exciting book, doesn't it? Just based on the title? Maybe a "Land of the Lost"-style adventure, with modern people passing through a volcanic range to encounter pre-civilization dinosaurs. Or maybe it's more of a Morlock thing, with a civilization of people living beneath a volcano. Or maybe an apocalyptic science-fiction story, where evil men plot to trigger a volcanic explosion to destroy the earth.
MINI SPOILERS
Well, turns out that it's none of those things. It's about a drunk mid-level British diplomat.
It's a very well-written book about a drunk mid-level British diplomat, I should say. After I got over my initial disappointment, I started to appreciate the book a lot more. To manage expectations: it's much more on the order of, say, Joyce, in that it's a densely written, intricate and interesting book; its plot does not excite, but its characters and language do.
Three main characters dominate the story. The most important is The Consul, Geoffrey Firmin. He's a British representative who has traveled around the world, and recently been stationed in Mexico. The book is set in the 1930's, with the backdrop of the Spanish Civil War and the Mexican Revolution. Britain has withdrawn its consuls, so Geoffrey is remaining without any real reason to be there. He's drunk, but not just because of that. Drunkenness permeates his entire life, his entire thinking. We gradually learn that his drinking goes back years and years, and was the direct cause of the most traumatic event of his life, his divorce from Yvonne; the divorce, in turn, further drove his drinking.
The Mexicans in the town call him "borracho," and with good reason. Some view him with pity, others with disdain, a few take advantage of him. He lives his entire life in... not exactly a fog, but in an altered state of reality, under the influence of alcohol. Malcolm Lowry uses a third-person omniscient narrator, who in each chapter is attached to the thoughts of a particular character. It's exhilarating and creepy to see the Consul's thoughts spinning out of control, both in speech and in his own head. He has a great education and is very knowledgeable, but now all the structure has fallen apart, and what comes out of his mouth is a kind of stew, with lots of jumbled-together references and allusions that don't add up to anything.
It's hard to decide how to relate to the Consul. He's pathetic, but in a way that feels slightly endearing. We get to know him better once Yvonne (re-)enters the picture. She still has feelings for him, and desperately hopes to rescue what remains of him from his self-destructive drinking. She isn't an angel either, but is an epitome of rationality compared with him. Rounding out the trio is Hugh Firmin, Geoffrey's much younger brother. Hugh has led an exciting life as a songwriter, sailor, cowboy, and mercenary; however, Hugh is plagued by feelings of inadequacy, and constantly longs for a sense of authenticity that he seems unable to achieve.
Possibly the most amazing aspect of Under the Volcano is the way that Lowry explores and expands the lives of his characters. We get to feel like we know the characters soon after they're introduced, but later chapters drastically revise our understanding of them. We learn about Yvonne's history as a childhood actress, of which Hugh isn't even aware; her experiences with fame at that early age help us understand why she acts the way she does. Conversely, Yvonne has no idea that Hugh is a talented guitarist, and he actively hopes that she doesn't find out, so determined is he to erase this part of his history.
Huh... it just occurred to me that this might be a major theme of the book: erasure. Geoffrey drinks to drive away his despair; drinking doesn't make him forget, but it does dull his pain. Hugh took to the sea to destroy his image as a child of privilege; he gave up his songwriting career; he abandoned England to fight in other wars. Yvonne may be the one creative member of the trio, with her dream of an island farm in Vancouver.
END SPOILERS
Under the Volcano was a fairly difficult book to read. Geoffrey's drinking can be amusing, but it's also really awful. The writing is so dense that it takes a lot of concentration to absorb; it doesn't fit in that well with my habit of reading on public transit, and I ended up reading most of the book at home. I think I would have gotten a lot more out of it if I'd read it back in school; I'm pretty confident that I missed a ton of allusions and themes in there. Still, the text is strong enough to be enjoyed on its own, and I'm glad I made the effort.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Gone
Quickie review on "Going Postal" (the new British TV movie):
It's pretty good!
Slightly longer review:
The movie is extremely faithful to the book. It's been a while since I read (or, more accurately, listened to the book on tape of) Going Postal, but it has really struck in my mind. That's partly because it was the first Discworld book I encountered (either that or Thud!, I forget which), but also because it's a really, really good story.
I won't recap everything that I like about GP here, and just assume that you've already read the book. Therefore, while everything is wrapped as a
MINI SPOILER
the spoilers are the same as in the book. Which I suppose could be considered a spoiler in itself. Sorry about that.
Anyways: The movie features Moist von Lipwig, Pratchett's most recent Discworld protagonist and probably my second-favorite, just behind Vimes. The character lineup is the same as in the book (to the best of my recollection), and doesn't drastically alter any personalities. It also maintains the themes of the book, a really clever indictment of monopolies, entrenched markets, and anti-competitive practices.
It is a made-for-TV movie, so it doesn't wow as much as a Hollywood (or Holy Wood) spectacle might, but the effects are still quite good; Moist's disquieting nightmares in the post office are particularly effective. The weakest aspect of the special effects is Moist's golem, who belongs to the same school of "guy putting on random unconvincing costume" that has previously graced time-honored British productions like the original Hitchhiker's Guide show, Doctor Who, and Red Dwarf. He looks appropriately menacing in the dark, but fully ridiculous when walking the streets in daylight.
Most of the actors are quite good, though. Moist comes across as a bit more... vulnerable, I guess, than I had imagined him, but it's still a good portrayal. Vetinari is great; I still prefer Jeremy Irons' excellent portrayal in The Colour of Magic, but his replacement does a good job. Vetinari is such a great character that, as long as you convey what Pratchett has written, it's going to be good. The postmen also came across as I had imagined from the story.
If I have a complaint about the movie, it's that it tends to be melodramatic. The most obvious offense is its portrayal of the villains from the Clacks. They really chew the scenery with some of the hammiest, over-the-top acting I've seen recently. It's one of those things that goes so far overboard that I have to laugh and assume that they meant it to be bad.
END SPOILERS
So, where does this fit in the pantheon? As far as I know we now have three screen adaptations: Hogfather, The Colour of Magic, and Going Postal. All have had their ups and downs. I'd summarize them as follows.
Best original story: Going Postal
Best main actor: Hogfather (Susan was great)
Best Vetinari: The Colour of Magic
Best Visual Effects: The Colour of Magic
Best Villain: Hogfather
Best Overall: Going Postal
Anyways, that's where I see it. It'll be interesting to see if they keep putting them out. I'd kind of like to see a Vimes story on the screen, but at the same time, I'm pretty worried about it; the guards have such excellent characters, and it would be really hard to do them justice. (Nobby in the Hogfather was just embarrassing; Angua in Going Postal was decent, but didn't get much screen time.) Still, if anything they seem to be improving, so hopefully there will be more quality stuff to come; plus, it's been really encouraging to see how they've been happy to bring Pratchett's stories to life without feeling the need to muck around with it.
It's pretty good!
Slightly longer review:
The movie is extremely faithful to the book. It's been a while since I read (or, more accurately, listened to the book on tape of) Going Postal, but it has really struck in my mind. That's partly because it was the first Discworld book I encountered (either that or Thud!, I forget which), but also because it's a really, really good story.
I won't recap everything that I like about GP here, and just assume that you've already read the book. Therefore, while everything is wrapped as a
MINI SPOILER
the spoilers are the same as in the book. Which I suppose could be considered a spoiler in itself. Sorry about that.
Anyways: The movie features Moist von Lipwig, Pratchett's most recent Discworld protagonist and probably my second-favorite, just behind Vimes. The character lineup is the same as in the book (to the best of my recollection), and doesn't drastically alter any personalities. It also maintains the themes of the book, a really clever indictment of monopolies, entrenched markets, and anti-competitive practices.
It is a made-for-TV movie, so it doesn't wow as much as a Hollywood (or Holy Wood) spectacle might, but the effects are still quite good; Moist's disquieting nightmares in the post office are particularly effective. The weakest aspect of the special effects is Moist's golem, who belongs to the same school of "guy putting on random unconvincing costume" that has previously graced time-honored British productions like the original Hitchhiker's Guide show, Doctor Who, and Red Dwarf. He looks appropriately menacing in the dark, but fully ridiculous when walking the streets in daylight.
Most of the actors are quite good, though. Moist comes across as a bit more... vulnerable, I guess, than I had imagined him, but it's still a good portrayal. Vetinari is great; I still prefer Jeremy Irons' excellent portrayal in The Colour of Magic, but his replacement does a good job. Vetinari is such a great character that, as long as you convey what Pratchett has written, it's going to be good. The postmen also came across as I had imagined from the story.
If I have a complaint about the movie, it's that it tends to be melodramatic. The most obvious offense is its portrayal of the villains from the Clacks. They really chew the scenery with some of the hammiest, over-the-top acting I've seen recently. It's one of those things that goes so far overboard that I have to laugh and assume that they meant it to be bad.
END SPOILERS
So, where does this fit in the pantheon? As far as I know we now have three screen adaptations: Hogfather, The Colour of Magic, and Going Postal. All have had their ups and downs. I'd summarize them as follows.
Best original story: Going Postal
Best main actor: Hogfather (Susan was great)
Best Vetinari: The Colour of Magic
Best Visual Effects: The Colour of Magic
Best Villain: Hogfather
Best Overall: Going Postal
Anyways, that's where I see it. It'll be interesting to see if they keep putting them out. I'd kind of like to see a Vimes story on the screen, but at the same time, I'm pretty worried about it; the guards have such excellent characters, and it would be really hard to do them justice. (Nobby in the Hogfather was just embarrassing; Angua in Going Postal was decent, but didn't get much screen time.) Still, if anything they seem to be improving, so hopefully there will be more quality stuff to come; plus, it's been really encouraging to see how they've been happy to bring Pratchett's stories to life without feeling the need to muck around with it.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
I've been fortunate enough to be tapped to help write the upcoming edition of Unlocking Android from Manning Publications. I'm very excited about this; the original book was really good, and now I get to help expand and revise it to incorporate all the great stuff that has occurred between OS versions 1.5 and 2.2.
The first piece that I wrote was a pretty long chapter on integration; it covers topics like interacting with device contacts, syncing with a back-end, managing multiple sources of personal data, and so on. To help illustrate the chapter's concepts, I use a real-world sample application: an app that synchronizes your device contacts with your LinkedIn connections.
So, that was a lot of work but also a lot of fun. I enjoyed poking around LinkedIn's API, which is primarily designed for web applications but, with some tweaking, can work on mobile as well. Real apps always feel much more compelling than toy apps, and I felt a thrill when I saw my actual data getting synchronized. Wow, a useful app! Who would have thought it?
It occurred to me that, with a bit more polishing and some key features, the sample app could become an actual useful Market-ready app. I checked with my publisher, then spent about a week streamlining the UI and hooking in some other Android features to handle things like automatically redirecting authorization info from LinkedIn. I just finished wrapping that up, and published on the Market on Sunday.
So, that was a lot of fun. This is the second Market app that I've put out. The first, Wheeler, was one of the apps available when Android version 1.0 first came out on the G1. It has since been superseded by other apps (including what I really wanted to make all along, a version of Google Maps with cycling directions), but along the way it was downloaded thousands of times and received some really kind reviews from fellow cyclists. I'm glad to be back on the Market again, and hope that the LinkedIn app gets noticed.
So, if you're using an Android phone with OS version 2.0 or later, and you have a LinkedIn account, feel free to check out my app! It's called "Unlocking Android LinkedIn". And, if you're a developer, please keep your eyes opened for Unlocking Android 2nd Edition. We're releasing chapters through the Manning Early Access Program as they become available, and hope to have the physical book out in the next few months. Happy coding!
The first piece that I wrote was a pretty long chapter on integration; it covers topics like interacting with device contacts, syncing with a back-end, managing multiple sources of personal data, and so on. To help illustrate the chapter's concepts, I use a real-world sample application: an app that synchronizes your device contacts with your LinkedIn connections.
So, that was a lot of work but also a lot of fun. I enjoyed poking around LinkedIn's API, which is primarily designed for web applications but, with some tweaking, can work on mobile as well. Real apps always feel much more compelling than toy apps, and I felt a thrill when I saw my actual data getting synchronized. Wow, a useful app! Who would have thought it?
It occurred to me that, with a bit more polishing and some key features, the sample app could become an actual useful Market-ready app. I checked with my publisher, then spent about a week streamlining the UI and hooking in some other Android features to handle things like automatically redirecting authorization info from LinkedIn. I just finished wrapping that up, and published on the Market on Sunday.
So, that was a lot of fun. This is the second Market app that I've put out. The first, Wheeler, was one of the apps available when Android version 1.0 first came out on the G1. It has since been superseded by other apps (including what I really wanted to make all along, a version of Google Maps with cycling directions), but along the way it was downloaded thousands of times and received some really kind reviews from fellow cyclists. I'm glad to be back on the Market again, and hope that the LinkedIn app gets noticed.
So, if you're using an Android phone with OS version 2.0 or later, and you have a LinkedIn account, feel free to check out my app! It's called "Unlocking Android LinkedIn". And, if you're a developer, please keep your eyes opened for Unlocking Android 2nd Edition. We're releasing chapters through the Manning Early Access Program as they become available, and hope to have the physical book out in the next few months. Happy coding!
Here and Now
It seems appropriate that I would follow up a less-known book from Orwell with a less-known book from Huxley. People generally speak of the two in the same breath, thanks to the similarities between their best-known works, "1984" and "Brave New World." Being obstinate, I'm drawn more to the differences between the men and the (rather profound) differences between those books, but that's probably too tangential even for me to get into here.
So: "Island" was Huxley's last novel. I thought it was pretty good. If I had read it during high school, though, I would have thought that it was AMAZING. It has the kind of free-wheeling, mind-expanding, thought-provoking, consciousness-expanding sensibility that I was addicted to at that time. There's a nominal story here, but almost all of the book is devoted to plumbing the questions of practical philosophy: how a person should live, the best way to raise children, how a healthy society would behave, how we can approach life and death, and similar weighty issues. If you've ever read "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" or "Ishmael," it's very much of a piece with those.
As usual, Huxley was ahead of his time. The book was published in 1962: before The Beatles formed, before the SDS, before the Summer of Love and flower children. The values taught by this book completely fit with the morals of the late-60's hippie, though. The book preaches the union of Eastern values with Western knowledge, Buddhist attitudes with English science. It promotes (occasional) drug use as a gateway to deeper understanding (which, I'm guessing, kept this book from being included on the Junior Seminar reading list). It's against oil exploitation, against imperialism, against multinational corporations, against military dictators, against organized religion, against any absolute doctrine. It's for casual family arrangements, for birth control, for early sex education, for spirituality, for natural medicine.
After reading this book, I really want to go back and re-read Brave New World, which I think I last read in high school. I kind of get the impression that Huxley changed his mind about some issues between that book, which was written about thirty years earlier, and this one. In BNW, soma was bad, a drug that kept people docile and harmless; here, the moksha-medicine is good, a drug that empowers people to reach self-actualization. In BNW, early sex ed seemed horrible; here, it seems rational, and its absence becomes horrible. That said, I may be missing some distinctions or mis-remembering those parts of BNW.
Of course, I also may be missing the point of either or both books. It's natural to assume that an author's prejudices are the same as the narrators, but that isn't always the case. I remember my great shock at reading Heinlein's "Starship Troopers" after reading his "Stranger in a Strange Land," and realizing that those two utterly opposite moral philosophies flowed from the same mind. BNW's morality was always ambiguous, anyways. (Uh-oh, I think I'm sliding into that tangent now...) In 1984, there was a very clear sense of and source of evil: Big Brother and the Party had seized power and were oppressing the people with absolutist technological control over everything. In BNW, though, the future system feels much more organic. There's no single villain, no overarching sinister plot. Most terrifying of all, in BNW you get the sense (or at least, I got the sense fifteen years ago) that the people had done it to themselves... people had developed new technology, embraced the things that made life easier and more pleasurable, and ended up with that book's system. I can point at that and say that it's bad, but from Huxley's perspective, it may have just seemed inevitable.
In contrast, the system shown in The Island is extremely fragile. It has become self-perpetuating, but arose out of serendipity, and the islanders must guard themselves against the outside world, which has the capability to crush what they have. Or at least to try. The ultimate hope of The Island is that, by embracing changes in your personal life, you can change your relationship with the world; even when horrible things happen, you can save yourself from hopeless despair. It isn't a "don't worry, be happy" sort of philosophy. Instead, it urges people to really see, to really pay attention, to the actual, physical experiences around them. Then, having paid attention, to understand and explain them. Tell yourself a story that makes sense of those experiences, and so put yourself in the best possible world.
Like I said, I would have eaten this up in high school. Now, I enjoy reading it and certainly agree with parts of it, but seriously doubt that any long-term changes will occur as a result.
Pick up Island if you're looking for some cool hippie philosophy. Pass if you want a sequel to Brave New World. It's a good read, but frankly not much of a story.
So: "Island" was Huxley's last novel. I thought it was pretty good. If I had read it during high school, though, I would have thought that it was AMAZING. It has the kind of free-wheeling, mind-expanding, thought-provoking, consciousness-expanding sensibility that I was addicted to at that time. There's a nominal story here, but almost all of the book is devoted to plumbing the questions of practical philosophy: how a person should live, the best way to raise children, how a healthy society would behave, how we can approach life and death, and similar weighty issues. If you've ever read "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" or "Ishmael," it's very much of a piece with those.
As usual, Huxley was ahead of his time. The book was published in 1962: before The Beatles formed, before the SDS, before the Summer of Love and flower children. The values taught by this book completely fit with the morals of the late-60's hippie, though. The book preaches the union of Eastern values with Western knowledge, Buddhist attitudes with English science. It promotes (occasional) drug use as a gateway to deeper understanding (which, I'm guessing, kept this book from being included on the Junior Seminar reading list). It's against oil exploitation, against imperialism, against multinational corporations, against military dictators, against organized religion, against any absolute doctrine. It's for casual family arrangements, for birth control, for early sex education, for spirituality, for natural medicine.
After reading this book, I really want to go back and re-read Brave New World, which I think I last read in high school. I kind of get the impression that Huxley changed his mind about some issues between that book, which was written about thirty years earlier, and this one. In BNW, soma was bad, a drug that kept people docile and harmless; here, the moksha-medicine is good, a drug that empowers people to reach self-actualization. In BNW, early sex ed seemed horrible; here, it seems rational, and its absence becomes horrible. That said, I may be missing some distinctions or mis-remembering those parts of BNW.
Of course, I also may be missing the point of either or both books. It's natural to assume that an author's prejudices are the same as the narrators, but that isn't always the case. I remember my great shock at reading Heinlein's "Starship Troopers" after reading his "Stranger in a Strange Land," and realizing that those two utterly opposite moral philosophies flowed from the same mind. BNW's morality was always ambiguous, anyways. (Uh-oh, I think I'm sliding into that tangent now...) In 1984, there was a very clear sense of and source of evil: Big Brother and the Party had seized power and were oppressing the people with absolutist technological control over everything. In BNW, though, the future system feels much more organic. There's no single villain, no overarching sinister plot. Most terrifying of all, in BNW you get the sense (or at least, I got the sense fifteen years ago) that the people had done it to themselves... people had developed new technology, embraced the things that made life easier and more pleasurable, and ended up with that book's system. I can point at that and say that it's bad, but from Huxley's perspective, it may have just seemed inevitable.
In contrast, the system shown in The Island is extremely fragile. It has become self-perpetuating, but arose out of serendipity, and the islanders must guard themselves against the outside world, which has the capability to crush what they have. Or at least to try. The ultimate hope of The Island is that, by embracing changes in your personal life, you can change your relationship with the world; even when horrible things happen, you can save yourself from hopeless despair. It isn't a "don't worry, be happy" sort of philosophy. Instead, it urges people to really see, to really pay attention, to the actual, physical experiences around them. Then, having paid attention, to understand and explain them. Tell yourself a story that makes sense of those experiences, and so put yourself in the best possible world.
Like I said, I would have eaten this up in high school. Now, I enjoy reading it and certainly agree with parts of it, but seriously doubt that any long-term changes will occur as a result.
Pick up Island if you're looking for some cool hippie philosophy. Pass if you want a sequel to Brave New World. It's a good read, but frankly not much of a story.
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