31η Άποψη (από 117):
Η Kathleen είπε:
So I found this book in a used book store in San Jose, no ISBN, no
identifying numbers whatsoever except the Greek publisher's mark in the cover,
and I've never seen this author's work anywhere else. I take it this book is a
rarity (and I've seen it called a "curiosity" when I google it) these
days.
Paul Di Filipo says on Sfsite.com:
31,450,670. No, that's not a mistranslated title to Alfred Bester's famous
story, "5,271,009." It's the actual name of the protagonist of the
debut novel by a talenthttps://www.goodreads.com/review/show/261826280So I found this
book in a used book store in San Jose, no ISBN, no identifying numbers
whatsoever except the Greek publisher's mark in the cover, and I've never seen
this author's work anywhere else. I take it this book is a rarity (and I've
seen it called a "curiosity" when I google it) these days.
Paul Di Filipo says on Sfsite.com:
31,450,670. No,
that's not a mistranslated title to Alfred Bester's famous story,
"5,271,009." It's the actual name of the protagonist of the debut
novel by a talented Greek sf author who is, sadly, little-known in Anglophone
territories. Diamandis Florakis, still with us today, produced ten novels in
his "Decalogy of Eschatological Utopia,"... If subsequent volumes
rival the first, it's a monumental accomplishment.
With a definite
Age of Aquarius vibe, the novel still remains timely, pondering such eternal
conundrums as this: "Murdering, they spoke of peace; in envisioning peace,
they warred." Stylistically reminiscent of Zamiatin, Lem, Bunch, and van
Vogt, the book reads like the libretto for the next great rock opera by the
Flaming Lips.
-sfsite.com
Here's my favorite passage:
"Did we ever
happen, when communicating with beings of higher intellect, to ask them whether
God exists?" asked a pupil.
"of course;
this was one of our first questions," replied the teacher.
"And what did they reply?" the pupil asked again.
"That there is a third condition beyond the yes or the no concerning God's
existence - a view they expressed for us in a mathematical equation."
"Have we
solved this equation?"
"Not yet,
because they are still dictating it to us."...
"Was it not
possible to express the equation in a more condensed form?"
"Of course it was. But this would require an intelligence 81 times higher
than that of the most intelligent human being."
-pg 52
THIS PART CONTAINS SOME MILD SPOILERS- PURISTS BEWARE
This book is so weird- at some moments it's so fast-paced and cataclysmic it
almost seems Axe-Cop-esque; I mean like as though a 5-year-old boy thought this
up (a whole planet-full of people are crucified by attackers, the robots become
angry and slay all the attackers, then they grow remorseful for what they did
and all commit suicide-- all in one paragraph, practically-- robots committing
suicide!)
But this book is also highly philosophical- it culminates with one population
which is striving to be "genuinely evil" exterminating a population
which is striving to be "pure good" - and both sides seem at
different times to be trying to PROVE that they are truly good and truly evil,
and both sides encounter difficulties with this! The leader of the truly evil
side finds himself realizing that he LOVES destruction, and that he therefore
has something in common with his foes in that he LOVES-- and on the other side,
the "good" leaders wonder whether they ought to retaliate by
exterminating the evil population, which they could easily do, but this would
compromise their ethos- even restricting others freedom of choice would be
contradictory to their desire to be pure good. Thus in this book, goodness can
only prove itself by way of self-sacrifice: in fact, the book goes so far as to
propose that true and absolute goodness would sacrifice itself to save evil-- a
rather extreme view, it seems to me, but interestingly executed. It is interesting
that both those striving-to-be-evil and those striving-to-be-good find
themselves grappling with how not to be tainted with their opposite, and evil
seems not to be able to absolutely extract itself from good completely, while
good has a way to extract itself from evil: through self-sacrifice, which is
argued as a kind of absolute pinnacle of goodness.
I find alot of what Florakis has to say about good and evil very interesting,
though I don't find myself agreeing whole-heartedly with what seems to be his
view on the absolute-good, but I do appreciate a sci-fi novel that dives fully
into the realm of philosophy and transcendental thought, and I think he
executes it very well. For me personally, Florakis' ideas on goodness as that
which would sacrifice itself for evil (which, logically, means that goodness
will self-destruct as soon as evil enters the picture) makes me think back on
this particular depiction of heaven and hell which I think might have begun in
Medieval art and I think has continued in the present day. In this depiction,
the saints and 'saved' are in heaven looking down on the sinners who are
suffering in hell; and those looking down from heaven seem to have no reaction
at all, or at times are even jeering at what they see. I feel like I still hear
people refer to this idea in speech: "I'll be in heaven laughing when
you're burning in hell!" I can still remember being a kid and hearing this
kind of talk and thinking, if there was a person that was completely good, like
angelic, and if they were shown people suffering in hell, they would surely say
'someone do something! help those people!', they would certainly never laugh at
the sight- and perhaps, if they were really truly good, they would even say
'take me in their place!' but this is never the kind of scenario which seems to
arise in stories of heaven and hell. (Really that whole depiction always seemed
more like an elaborate revenge fantasy than anything else). So for me,
Florakis' whole trajectory of goodness-as-self-sacrifice makes me think back on
that picture of heaven and hell and how contradictory it always seemed-- and it
makes me wonder whether Florakis is contemplating, commenting on, or reacting
against Christian ideas of heaven and hell. It's possible.
All in all, a
very very strange book, but I do think there is alot of very interesting
thinking going on in it and it is very interesting to watch how Florakis takes
this crazy extreme story and makes this deeply Philosophical statement through
it, and plus there's lots of very interesting anecdotes and phrases throughout
the book (note, this edition that I've got is absolutely LITTERED with typos,
misspellings, and possibly translation errors, but I think the book I've got
went through odd venues to get published) And I do think I
will read it again in the future, because I
think this is the kind of book that gives you something different each time you
return to it.