I bought this book many years ago, after reading Jonathan Livingston Seagull and Illusions. I tried several times to read the book, but never got past a few pages. Finally, I vowed to read it: If I liked it, it would stay on my shelf; if I didn't like it, I'd donate it. I'll be donating this book to the library tomorrow.
If I were a teenager, with most of life's major choices ahead of me, this book would probably offer some lessons worth learning. If I were not a thinking, self-aware person, the ideas in this book might be eye-opening. Both cases not being true, I found this book more like science-fiction masquerading as philosophy.
I imagine the author re-living all his late-night dorm-room conversations and early adult cocktail/dinner parties, and never having been able to get a word in edgewise, he constructs this venue through which to express all his varied philosophies. His ideas are not without merit, but the presentation is lacking.
The writing style leaves a lot to be desired. It is completely devoid of wit or subtlety. It is black-and-white reading, laying out the characters and scenes like a young adult fiction. Reading the dialogue is like watching over-actors struggling with a poor script. Occasionally, reading the book was downright painful; several times, I actually put down the book, rolling my eyes, unable to continue.
I plan to re-read Illusions and Jonathan Livingston Seagull, just to be sure. :P
No comments:
Post a Comment