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Reamde by Neal Stephenson
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Aug 09, 2012

it was ok

i still have about a hundred pages to go but i'm writing a review now as a letter of apology to the part of myself which has repeatedly begged me to quit, and which the junk book addict in me has ignored several times now.

i'm sorry, side that wanted to cut our losses, that i dismissed your early premonitions that stephenson was taking a leisurely jaunt to nowhere. i'm sorry that i scoffed at your instinct that he was moving even more slowly than usual and without the offsetting mercy of a profound destination. you were right about that eight year old who wanted to tell me the story of the 999,999,999 stairs, and you were right now.

please forgive me, internal chronometer that only wants the best for our readerly opportunities. against all reason i insisted, however often this plot wandered around hotel rooms, interrupted pokings-about here to observe people staring there, backtracked to make absolutely sure we knew every detail involved in an airport visit or cleaning up after dinner, and invited the spirit of ben stein to narrate half of the action scenes, despite all this i stubbornly maintained that stephenson would gorge our cranial hunger on at least one topical smorgasbord. well, besides how well-stocked wal-mart is or how boring it is to be a spy. c'mon, i wasn't completely off my rocker in expecting this. sure, he's always been a bit weak in the pacing department but he's never neglected our hunger for an intellectual deep dive before. am i wrong?

but next time i will pay better attention to you, dawning suspicion that an author might be out of his element. i realize now that _reamde_ was an awkward love letter to tom clancy and conservative, back country gun-lovers. (is that redundant, self? i haven't read tom clancy since eighth grade so i don't know. see, sometimes i listen to you.) anyway, to keep a short story short for a change, by the time stephenson dragged his little, derailed engine that didn't want to into the idaho panhandle in order to wax romantic upon the ultraconservative culture of the inland northwest, i finally felt raw and icky enough to break down and admit you were right.

i love you, personal taste. thanks for looking out for me in spite of myself. i will try not to do this to us again.
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message 1: by Steve (new) - added it

Steve Davies I have to agree with you. It would probably be quite readable in its abridged form. 500 pages instead of 1100 perhaps?

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