A Canticle for Leibowitz
by Walter M. Miller Jr.
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Book Reviews of A Canticle for Leibowitz
Book Review: Post-nuclear apocalyptic history through the experience of Catholic monks...
Summary: 4 Stars
Since many reviewers -some far more capable than I- have already fleshed out many of the nuances of this work, let me present some simple pro's and con's, and you can do the "moral algebra," as Benjamin Franklin called it:
First, potential weaknesses:
~This novel is light on character development. Those of you who need complex and well developed characters might want to move on. Miller lingers on a few central characters for several chapters and then jumps forward another 600 years into the future twice, introducing a new cast of characters each time. The only recurring character is a mysterious and eccentric Jewish hermit, who appears in each of the three time periods of this book. One character I did find memorable was the "Poet," who was rather funny and well developed.
~Miller throws around A LOT of Latin phrases in this book. This might be tedious and annoying to some. It was a bit tedious to me at times, but I really like Latin, so it was bonus to me.
~Some people have had an almost allergic reaction to the "religiosity" of this novel. True, the novel is heavily effused with the theology and culture of monastic Catholicism, but Miller is NOT trying to win converts.
~Miller's words for some devices are just silly, i.e. "thingumbobs, doohickii." I suppose Miller could have used these silly descriptors as a way of expressing the ignorance of the monks.
~I can't put my finger on it, but for some reason the storyline can drag on a bit and become boring. This may be due to the absence of truly developed characters. It may also be the locale, which is usually at a monastery. The locale in of itself may not be boring, but the heavy reliance on this scene probably led to the feeling of monotony.
Possible strengths:
~On the other hand, monotony can be the hallmark of monastic life, and so as boring as it might be, the repetitious and monotonous accounts of life at the abbey do convey as sense of what it would be like to live in such a place.
~Miller examines issues/concepts that I found to be quite intriguing: Euthanasia, debate over the preservation or transmission of knowledge, how knowledge changes, evolves, is forgotten, and in some cases, distorted over the course of history, how legends and saints are born, religious concerns over what is "sacred" and "secular" knowledge, debate over the compatibility or incompatibility between science and religion, and humanity's tendency to create a cyclical pattern in history. All of these issues are examined through the prism of Catholicism and in some, though not all cases, they are examined through a prism of secularism. You might be disappointed with Miller's conclusion on euthanasia.
~This book is essentially about "big" ideas and how they fare over long passages of time. In this sense, this piece of fiction might be considered "epic." For me, this was one of the main reasons this book received four stars. There are thousands of science fiction novels, but only a fraction of these devote their energies to the contemplation of historical and philosophical questions, and even fewer provide such a unique setting in time and space.
~The ending, though sad and somewhat odd (I never fully grasped what Miller was trying to say through Rachel, perhaps how the inhuman can be more human than us?), offers a faint glimmer of hope, for what is an otherwise dim view of humanity. Depending on your presuppositions the conclusion will be cynically delicious or dismal.
Conclusion: You might be bored at times, but if you are interested in a sci-fi narrative that explores the issues I outlined above, I think it might be worth your time to push through the dry patches of this text.
Book Review: "Sic transit mundus"
Summary: 5 Stars
Comparing the United States to the Roman Empire seems to be a fashionable thing to do lately. And the argument is certainly not without merit. As the only superpower left its natural to make judgments based on the worlds great empires and to ask if we are making the same mistakes that caused their downfalls. The real question, of course, is whether we can learn from history in order to avoid those same mistakes.
Which is just another way to say that I recently read A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller, Jr. Published in 1960, the book may be best described as a work of "Catholic science fiction." It follows the travails of a monastery in a post-apocalyptic world where, following a massive nuclear war, humanity turns against intellectuals and learning in a great "Simplification." Books are burned, universities torn down and the general populace intentionally becomes illiterate in the hopes that another "Flame Deluge" may be averted. The monks of the Albertian Order of Leibowitz (ironically, and unintentionally, abbreviated to AOL) have been charged with protecting what writings they are able to smuggle into their great collection (the "Memorabilia") in the hope that humanity might one day be ready to accept them again.
The book is divided into three sections, each separated by 600 years. The first deals with a young postulant's discovery of relics of Blessed Leibowitz, whose cause for canonization has been opened. The second chronicles the arrival at the monastery of Thon Taddeo, the age's greatest secular thinker, and the world's re-discovery of the treasures hidden there. In the last part humanity is once again threatened by the re-development of nuclear weapons and the Church must decide how best to preserve the world's knowledge and ensure the survival of future generations.
One of Miller's main themes is the cyclical nature of history: in forgetting its own past, the world inadvertently makes its second annihilation possible. Miller makes a fairly explicit comparison between ignorance and violence on the one hand and knowledge and peace on the other. The tribal factions of the outside world are constantly at odds, fighting over territory, food and other resources. They are unable to work together and, as a result, can build nothing of lasting value.
Yet there is still hope in the form of community. By maintaining their connection to the past -- by remembering who they are and passing on that knowledge to future generations -- the monks are able to keep their charge for over 1200 years while, all around them, empires rise, reign and fall. It is the thankless dedication of generations of monks that allows humanity to pull itself from a second Dark Age.
The book also highlights the perennial struggle between science's pursuit of fact, the state's pursuit of power and faith's search for truth. This is especially evident in the second part, during which Thon Thaddeo is at odds with the Order over access to the Memorabilia (he wants to relocate the archive to make them more readily accessible to other scientists) and in the third part in which the state sanctions euthanasia camps for radiation victims. How the monks deal with these threats to their mission says a great deal about how and why the Church pursues knowledge (as opposed to science and the state).
Although it met with mixed reaction upon its release, A Canticle for Leibowitz went on to win a Hugo Award and is now considered a modern classic in science fiction. I highly recommend it to any fan of the genre or anyone interested in the mission of the Church, even in the most trying of times.
Book Review: Dystopian Diamond in the Rough
Summary: 5 Stars
I finished Walter Miller's A CANTICLE FOR LEIBOWITZ shorty after reading Cormac McCarthy's THE ROAD and it proves just how far-ranging the bleak genre known as "dystopia" can be. In fact, unlike McCarthy's stark and simple narrative, the complicated CANTICLE can be as mirthful as it is bleak, as Miller wisely remembers the humanity in humankind even while indicting said humanity for its insistence on not learning history's lessons. Thus, while news of impending (yet again) nuclear holocaust hangs over the characters, we're still treated to dialogue that is rich in gallows humor (a quaint term, considering how "far" mankind has come from the one-at-a-time inefficiencies of a noose).
Divided into three linked novellas, CANTICLE provides an opening background story of the bumbling but beloved monk, Brother Francis, and his discovery of the underground bomb shelter that contains the remains and the writings of the eponymous Leibowitz. "Civilization" (which will forever be in quotes once you read this book!) has been set back by nuclear destruction long ago when Leibowitz lived, and the records and blueprints excavated from the shelter hint at "progress" (another suspect word!) that mankind can make once more, if only he can rethink what was once already thought up and perhaps treat the danger that is knowledge with greater care.
Which brings us to the second novella -- an interesting battle of wits in a politically-charged world (long after the death of Section One's Brother Francis) that pits the current abbott of the Leibowetz Abbey against a learned man who is hot on the trail of the ancient paper's darker secrets. Readers will be intrigued by Abbott Paulo's attempts to both protect and share St. Leibowitz's legacy when a scholar from a rising and murderous politician comes to visit. The pas de deux, often unspoken and more often still requiring inference to appreciate, is Miller at his best.
Finally, in the shortest and perhaps least satisfying section, another abbott must do battle with sectarian doctors and politicians who challenge his faith and his abbey's history in the name of "humanity." Doctor Cors, for instance, advocates mercy killings of terminally-ill victims of radioactive poisoning (the book has come full circle since Leibowitz's day), but Abbott Zerchi opposes this because euthanasia is not God's will.
The book ends with this religious question as its chief focus, which is my only quibble as I would have preferred something closer to the bone -- namely, the theme of man's insatiable need to destroy and maim himself in the name of power. In short, I expected and would have felt a greater sense of completeness from a denouement centering on the question of innate evil, which lurks over the book to the point that Miller's dark humor becomes a lifesaver for the reader. Instead, Miller serves up innate innocence, just when you least expect it. Disturbing and a bit off-putting, the ending is nevertheless provocative and worthy of examination.
Overall, I was impressed with CANTICLE's ambition, scope, and depth. It deserves its 1961 Hugo Award for Best Novel (I wonder if JFK read it before the Cuban Missile Crisis?) and even though the writing and the profuse Latin might give younger readers pause, mature readers who appreciate dystopian issues, history, and the philosophical dance of good and evil will find solace even in the dark brightness that is nuclear doom. A thinker's book, then, and highly recommended.
Book Review: Timeless Questions
Summary: 5 Stars
Though this book was written over 50 years ago, its questions about knowledge, ignorance, power, violence, faith, strength, weakness, and redemption are as relevant as ever. But relevance is not the only reason to read the book. It can be read simply for the beauty of Miller's writing and his meditations on faith, reason, and the role of the institutional church (Miller was a Catholic convert). The story takes place during three eras, with a gap of roughly six centuries from one to the next. But by frequent reference to the 20th century's apocalyptic Flame Deluge (a nuclear holocaust resulting from the suspicions and greed that accompany power), the effective time span of the novel is roughly 1800 years. Ostensibly the story of a remote abbey in the southwestern part of what was once the United States, whose monks are dedicated to the mission of preserving remnants of the learning achieved by the last pre-apocalypse civilization (i.e., ours), the tale begins as the monks are awaiting the results of their application for canonization of their patron. The Blessed Leibowitz (ultimately Saint Leibowitz) was an electrical engineer who survived the Flame Deluge and devoted the rest of his life to preserving knowledge through the Great Simplification, the term used to describe the thorough and violent reaction of most of the surviving population who blamed not only their leaders but the knowledge they utilized in destroying the world. The Simplification was aimed at minimizing the possibility of another destruction by finishing the work of the first destruction: eliminating books and other carriers of civilization's collected knowledge, including its scholars. The first chapters of the book are set in the 26th century, a time when there is no electricity, no motorized transportation, no rapid communication. In this environment, the monks of the Order of Leibowitz are the guardians of the Memorabilia---bits of books, scraps of paper, diagrams, anything that survived the destruction of the wars and their anti-intellectual aftermath and that might provide clues about the development of knowledge (especially science). In the second and third sections, set in the 32nd and 38th centuries, respectively, Miller explores two primary questions: Is mankind doomed to a constant cycle of self-destruction, fueled by the lust for power? (A corollary question is whether or not the human race can continue to rebuild from whatever is left from each cataclysm.) And what is the role of organized religion---specifically the Roman Catholic church---not only in preserving knowledge but in acting as a conscience for a society that doesn't really want to listen to it? This latter question becomes especially potent in the last section of the book, when both of the roles that the story reserves for the church are taken to their logical conclusion, one on a cosmic scale, one on a very personal scale. Although the Leibowitzian monks are happy to make their own knowledge trove available to investigators (much of the second part of the book concerns one such episode), in the end, one cannot help feeling a sense of futility. Given man's warlike nature, the futility does not lie in dedicating one's life to preserving knowledge. The futility lies in thinking that any amount of knowledge will curb the corrupting drive for power, and the destruction that (inevitably?) comes in its wake. Is it also true that no amount of faith will adequately shield against compromise or simple human weakness?Book Review: A Canticle for Leibowitz
Summary: 5 Stars
This book is very unusual, in that it is both a post-apocalyptic, and a Roman Catholic work of fiction. Although it gets off to a slow and somewhat stilted beginning, I think that if you "hang in there" for a little while you will come to enjoy it as much as I did. In fact, it has become one of my all time favorite works of fiction, to be treasured and read over and over again.
I especially enjoyed the Latin and Hebrew references, which challenged my translation skills, and being something of a diletante scholar,I found this both enjoyable and rewarding.
Additionally, this book is chocked full of pithy and insightful statements, as well as anthropological and historical insights. For example:
" ...this knowledge was empty of content, for subject matter long since gone. STILL, such knowledge had a symcolic structure that was peculiar to itself, and at least the symbol interplay could be observed. To observe the way a knowledge system is knit together is to learn at least a minimum knowledge-of-knowledge, until someday-someday, or some century-an Integrator would come; and things would be fitted together again." (p. 65)
This statement is practically a formula for studying culture from a French structuralist anthropologetic perspective formulated by Claude Levi Strauss. In case you would like to delve further into these topics, I would recommend reading Levi Straussian literature, or Robin Leach's commentaries on Levi Strauss, as well as the work of Clifford Geertz. If this analysis peaks your interest, you can pursue it further by reading any of the following books offered by Amazon.com:
The Interpretation Of Cultures (Basic Books Classics)Structural AnthropologyMyth and Meaning: Cracking the Code of CultureCulture and Communication: The Logic by which Symbols Are Connected. An Introduction to the Use of Structuralist Analysis in Social Anthropology (Themes in the Social Sciences)
The author also touches on the process of the "illumination" of manuscripts, another particular, historical interest of mine.(p.77-79)
Check these Amazon products for further information:
Konsthistorisk Tiudskrift Studies of the Illumination of Medieval Manuscripts Art Review Volume XXII, 1953
The Depiction of Angels and Devils in Medieval French Manuscript Illumination (Studies in French Civilization)
Finally, I would like to close with yet another favorite quotation from the book:
"My execrable vanity is like that of the fable cat who studied ornithology m"Lord...For as the cat was called by nature to be an ornithhophage, so was Francis called by his own nature hungrily to devour such knowledge as could be taught in those days..." (p.54)
I think you get my point! A book to be savored-like intellectual white chocolate.