Review: Anathem

Posted by james m. toburen in Sci-Fi

Anathem: (1) In Proto-Orth, a poetic or musical invocation of Our Mother Hylaea, which since the time of Adrakhones has been the climax of the daily liturgy (hence the Fluccish word Anthem meaning a song of great emotional resonance, esp. one that inspires listeners to sing along). Note: this sense is archaic, and used only in a ritual context where it is unlikely to be confused with the much more commonly used sense 2. (2) In New Orth, an aut by which an incorrigible fraa or suur is ejected from the math and his or her work sequestered (hence the Fluccish word Anathema meaning intolerable statements or ideas). See Throwback.

—the dictionary, 4th edition, A.R. 3000

Neal Stephenson established himself in the early 90′s as a science fiction author to pay attention to: the cyberpunk classic/parody Snow Crash was included on Time’s magazine’s list of the 100 best English-language novels written since 1923, and The Diamond Age or, A Young Lady’s Illustrated Primer won the Hugo and the Locus award in 1996. Stephenson hopped genres when crafting Cryptonomicon, which combined real personalities from World War II’s Allied code-breaking divisions with the efforts of present-day characters to establish a data haven (despite being a fusion of historical fiction and modern thriller, Cryptonomicon won the Locus Award for Best Science Fiction Novel in 2000). The Baroque Cycle spanned 3,000 pages and was set from 1660-1714, again following a mixture of real personalities, such as Leibniz, Isaac Newton, and D’Artagnan, and fictional, sometimes fantastic, characters (yet another Locus award winner). Clearly, this isn’t an author for everyone: his novels are dense and can focus more on ideas than on action. Snow Crash includes marvelous comedy, fascinating characters, and exciting action, but expect an explanation of culture being transmitted in similar fashion to viral infection. The Diamond Age features heavy discussion of artificial intelligence and the possible implications of omnipresent nanotechnology. Cryptonomicon examines numismatics, cryptology, and information security. Stephenson’s fixation with conceptual explorations means that sometimes characters are not necessarily the most important part of his novels, and for this, his works have been criticized for their unsatisfying endings. Whether you have voiced this complaint or not, his latest, Anathem, should silence critics on that particular point. This is not to say that Anathem is for every reader; this book is mammoth (the weighty paperback edition is just shy of 1,000 pages), slow-moving, and features extremely lengthy discussions of philosophy, physics, and mathematics. But for the reader willing to set aside their expectations of what science fiction “should be,” Neal Stephenson has delivered a deliberate, affecting, and sometimes harrowing novel that could change the way you approach science fiction.

Anathem’s characters are thoughtful and methodical; when presented with a question or a challenge, they inspect, analyze, and interpret. Part of this novel’s wonder is the process of exploration and discovery, so to reveal too much of the story would be to spoil the marvelous experience of witnessing their problem-solving process. Anathem is an impressive exercise in world-building, describing a population split between mathic sanctuaries (imagine monasteries whose occupants are devoted to studying science instead of religion) and the Saecular world outside their walls. But in times of desperate need, the outside world can interfere with the private studies of the avout; this is one of those times. In part, the novel is a bildungsroman, following the adventures of Fraa Erasmas, a young avout. Erasmas is a Decanarian, having chosen to experience the outside world only once a decade. Others concent-dwellers mingle even less frequently, whether it be once a century or even once a millenium; life in the concent moves to a very slow rhythm. The novel gives a very clear pictures of Fraa Erasmas and his companions, something made easy by the lively conversations they often engage in. These characters are sympathetic and easy to like, being respectful, intelligent, and devoted in their friendships with each other. Instead of skipping from character to character, the narrative never shifts from Erasmas–expect some lengthy explanations from other characters lucky enough to witness certain events–which contributes to the narrative’s strong sense of immediacy and continuity. Anathem’s excellent characterization strongly evokes the reader’s empathy, and the characters’ struggles, worries, and hopes will become your own as the novel continues.

A lot of “hard science fiction” deals with rocketry, artificial intelligence, or some advanced version of the Internet. Okay, virtually all of it. Anathem’s focus is definitely hard science, but a different sort, concerned with the philosophy and history of scientific thought as opposed to the gadgetry. Anathem spends more time discussing Platonic ideals than quantum mechanics. As a world, Arbre fascinates, complex yet believable. The population speaks a different language than our own, quite similar but varying enough that you will find yourself referring to the glossary on a regular basis. Not content to stop with just a new language, Stephenson conjures up an entirely new history of scientific discovery that mirrors our own: Protas replaces Plato, Adrakhones replaces Pythagoras, and Gardan’s Steelyard replaces Occam’s Razor. Much of the novel is devoted to explaining the familiar but not quite the same history of the world of Arbre. I found myself asking why Neal Stephenson had gone to so much work to create a world so similar to our own (Arbre even has their own sci-fi television show, featuring a starship with a cold but logical second-in-command, Dox, presumably with pointy ears), but the latter half of the novel has an explanation that sensibly rationalizes the narrative’s efforts. Anathem may seem to be all history and backstory, but the excitement builds gradually and Erasmas’s world-spanning enterprise leads him to an extraordinary locus.

Some readers may struggle with Anathem’s pacing. The prose is dense; exhaustive descriptions and lengthy conversations are the norm. These dialogues may describe lessons between scholars and students, alternate versions of Earth’s philosophical theories, or explorations of a character’s motivations and thinking. In addition, the novel includes three “calcas” after the glossary, example lessons used to demonstrate the analytical thought espoused by the avout. Neal Stephenson’s use of language has always been somewhat baroque, but with this latest novel, he hopes to introduce his readers to a unique brand of science fiction, less flash and bang, more thought and substance. In many ways, Anathem’s prose shares common ideals with the mathic culture it describes: thorough analysis, calm argument, sensible applications of logic. For those worried that this leaves no room for action, rest assured that there is plenty, and it will have you white-knuckled as you flip through the pages. However, this isn’t an adventure story; Neal Stephenson helps the reader to learn a new style of thinking, and hopefully to apply that same analytical process when encountering new ideas and new stories in the future.

Anathem is a novel that refuses to play by the usual rules of science fiction. While definitely falling in the genre described as hard science fiction, this story isn’t enraptured with the miracles of technology. Too often, the fiction has become more important than the science. Speculative fiction isn’t merely space battles and blue-skinned aliens and laser rifles; it should also assist the reader in thinking about the world in a different way, a new way. Anathem is not an easy read, unless you happen to a mathematician with a solid understanding of scientific thought’s evolution and the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics. My advice to you when reading Anathem: the journey is just as important as the destination, so make sure to savor each word on every page. Not all science fiction stories are built in the same fashion, and readers who are willing to accept Anathem’s unique style and intentions will be well rewarded.

Plot: 9
Characters: 9.5
Action: 9.5
Writing: 10

Overall (not an average): 10/10