Wow. Wow.
This book is INCREDIBLE. I’ll review it later, but first I want to put down some of my initial thoughts.
With any great book, you come to a point where you realize, consciously or not, that it just can’t get any better. The story, the characters, the world, the ideas and stakes, the overarching conflict–it combines so perfectly that you don’t think you could possibly ask for more.
And then, if it’s a true masterpiece, it crosses that threshold and gets even better.
A Canticle for Leibowitz did that. Somewhere in the second half, after I was completely caught up in the story, it exceeded my expectations and went to a whole new level. I remember the exact passage where it happened:
They shook hands gingerly, but Dom Paulo knew that it was no token of any truce but only of mutual respect between foes. Perhaps it would never be more.
But why must it all be acted again?
The answer was near at hand; there was still the serpent whispering: For God doth know that in what day soever you shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened: and you shall be as Gods. The old father of lies was clever at telling half-truths: How shall you “know” good and evil, until you shall have sampled a little? Taste and be as Gods. But neither infinite power nor infinite wisdom could bestow godhood upon men. For that there would have to be infinite love as well.
I love books like this: books that not only have a good, entertaining story, but that have a deeper, more thoughtful dimension. Stories that make me think and reflect on the real world, that open my eyes and help me to see things in a new way. It’s what I read for.
Yes, the story was somewhat didactic and preachy…but it worked. Even though it was trying to make an explicit point, so much of the symbolism and metaphor was open ended that the readers could draw their own conclusions–and see a number of things that perhaps went beyond the point the author was trying to make.
I guess there’s two ways to write didactic fiction: the open approach, and the closed approach. With the open approach, the author uses a lot of symbolism and allegory, but in a way that explores principles and themes rather than building up to a predetermined point. Good examples of this (in my opinion) include The Chronicles of Narnia and The Neverending Story. The closed approach involves consciously working everything around a conscious agenda: examples of this include His Dark Materials and Lord of the Flies.
I don’t care much for the closed approach–I can’t stand it even when I agree with the underlying ideology (as in Orson Scott Card’s Empire). Those kinds of books don’t stimulate genuine thought or reflection. The open kind, though–that I can appreciate. Even though I disagree with many of Heinlein’s views, I can appreciate his books even when they’re preachy because they make me think.
Anyways, those were some of my thoughts after finishing A Canticle for Leibowitz. This book is epic–truly epic. It wowed me just as much as David Gemmell’s Legend. This is a book I’m going to remember for a long, long time.
If you care at all about the role of faith in forming our society, or the complex interplay between religion and politics, or the ultimate end of humanity–you have got to read this book!
