Read Me Redux
Looks like 2011 original publication date. I laughed, out loud, within minutes, not remembering much about the book.
My original notes.
I recalled some of the senses about the book, and a portion of the narrative, but re-reading is ticklish, at best. Still, the amusing notion that I bought this book as a hardback, first edition, got it on the shelf, and then, as a Kindle, and finally, just recently, as an Apple Books version, deeply discounted.
Worth it, for me, at $0.99 or whatever, as it means I’ll have it on hand, in the evening, in bed. Easier to read — like a book with its own night light, built in. My iPad certainly weighs less than the book itself, not that I would surrender my bookshelf, not willingly.
There’s a certain scope, and owing to my “day job” as an astrologer, what I tend to do is construct, in my own mind, astrology charts for the various characters, as just about any Neal Stephenson novel has a cast of thousands, but there will always be those few, really in-depth characters.
- One time, I turned in a manuscript and the academic editor appeared to weigh the pages, “I like a story with heft,” smiling.
Likewise, I like the bulk of Neal Stephenson’s novels, like this, 900 pages plus in hardback. Room to grow, derail, get right with the lord, and plow forward with an insane command of near useless facts that greater depth to the details.
The first time I read the book, isolated in a fishing camp on the coast? Cold winter’s eve, day and night, winds howling, the grey slate-like ocean whipped to a frothy essence, banging against the ragged sandy shores. Curled up under covers with a book.
Interesting — to me — technical note, the more recent advent of security features would render portions of the plot untenable.
That was then this is now.