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The Cryptonomicon

A review of the first 300 pages of the "Cryptonomicon", done in the style of Neal Stephenson (except that I omitted the parallel, semi-related story taking place in between the chapters). It's admittedly a bit self-indulgent, but so is Mr. Stephenson's book.

# THE SHARK Dave Townsend has always been a voracious reader. In the same way that sharks need to keep swimming to live, Dave needs to keep reading. And, like a shark, the process of consuming is often more important than what exactly is being consumed. On the reading table by his bed, where most of his reading takes place, there are books like Spencer's The Faerie Queen and An Introduction to the Gothic Language.

And history -- lots of it. Rise and Decline of the Roman Empire, an atlas of Medieval Warfare, and a pile of books on the Thirty Years War that's the exact size of Dave's tibia. Given any subject, you can never have too many books.

One thing leads to another, as the hobbits of Tolkien's Shire would say, and often an insight gleaned from one book can lead to a furious bout of reading down a previously unexplored topic, as Dave tries to learn all he can as fast as he can. Like a frenzied shark among a school of fish.

The First World War in general, and the air portion thereof in particular, are his current interests. In the last year his library on the topic has grown from virtually nothing to much larger than his tibia. The resulting credit card statements inevitably make Dave think that watching football is a better hobby than reading.

Dave's always had an interest in the strange contraptions flown by the airmen of the Great War -- as it was known before there were two Great Wars and hence a need to number them so as to keep them straight. Three hundred years from now, when the World Wars are as distant history as the Thirty Years War is today, Dave's pretty sure that historians will go back to calling the whole period 1914-1945 (or even 1914-1989) "The Great War." Indeed, the Thirty Years War is apt model, since it also was a series of wars punctuated by uneasy peaces.

But Dave's interest in early military aviation was dormant; it has little to do with why he started accumulating those books. That seed starts growing when he plays a game on the strategic bombing campaign of World War 2, and realizes that, scaled differently, reworked here, a few new mechanics there, the game is a good model of World War 1 in the air. Or so he thinks. He then realizes that he doesn't know enough about the history to design a game on the subject. So it's time to hit the books!

One thing leads to another. The Shark Must Eat.

Foucalt's Pendulum revives another latent interest, conspiracy theories, which leads to a reread of The Illuminatus Trilogy, which contains references to the Necronomicon...

...and the Cryptonomicon is sitting on Angela's desk.

Dave's supposed to be working, but he's a terrible procrastinator to begin with and discussing a book is always much more interesting than work anyway. The obvious reference to The Necronomicon has caught Dave's attention.

"Is this somehow Illuminati related?" The Shark Must Eat.

Angela tells him no, but it's a good book and a quick read, so the thousand pages between the covers shouldn't put him off.

It doesn't.

# CRYPTONOMICON "What's it about?" asks Lori.

Dave Townsend is lying in bed, his ritual Nighttime Reading in progress. Rise and Decline of the Roman Empire and The Faerie Queen have been put aside in favor of The Cryptonomicon. Put aside temporarily, he thinks to himself, but for Dave 'temporarily' can sometimes mean for years. Indeed he started The Faerie Queen once before, but put it aside for so long that he had to start it all over again.

He's now up to page 300 or so in Neal Stephenson's book.

Lori's question puts Dave in the surprising position of not having a response. Indeed, he's been thinking and thinking as he reads, but he can't really decide whether he likes the book or not. This anomie, combined with his tiredness (it's after midnight and he hasn't been sleeping well because his daughter keeps waking herself and her parents up in the middle of the night) is making him uncharacteristically grumpy.

"I don't know," is the best response that he can muster.

He tries not to let his grouchiness show. It's not Lori's fault that he can't answer the question.

He puts the book away.

Temporarily, he tells himself.

Dave Townsend / townsend@patriot.net / 25 Oct 00

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