Showing posts with label asceticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asceticism. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Anathem - Neal Stephenson

Today I finished my 6th book of 2014, Stephenson's Anathem. WOW!

The book is set on the planet Arbre, quite similar to our own, but divided in the present time (and for the past several thousand years) into the Saecular and Mathic worlds. Inside the "maths", or cloisters, live the Avout, non-religious men (fraas) and women (suurs) who have devoted their lives to intense scholarship and medieval asceticism, almost wholly without advanced praxis (technology). They live secluded from the outside world, except for a 10-day holiday called Apert during which the gates are opened, when the "extras" are free to come into the math, and the Avout are free to leave and explore extramuros. Depending on whether an Avout is a Unitarian, Tenner, Hundreder, or Thousander, his or her order will have the chance to celebrate Apert only once a year, decade, century, or millenium. In the mean time, all knowledge of the Saecular world is strictly avoided.

The book opens as Fraa Erasmas, a Tenner, is about to celebrate his first Apert since joining his math, the Concent of Saunt Edhar, as a young boy. Over the course of this holiday, however, he and his fraas and suurs discover that something very serious and shocking has been happening extramuros. Dun dun dun!

Of course I won't give away more, but suffice to say, this book is pure Stephenson genius. A beautifully rich world filled with highly likable characters (especially Fraa Jad!) engaged in a gripping and meaningful quest.

Recommended if you enjoyed: The Name of the Rose, Reamde

Stephenson's Novels

Thursday, July 2, 2009

You are an ascetic!

The Brackenbury-Parysek Tribe is gearing up to read Dante's Inferno (in English, with some attention to the facing-page Italian original). But what are you waiting for? here's what Jorge Luis Borges says:
The Commedia is a book that everyone ought to read. Not to do so is to deprive oneself of the greatest gift that literature can give us; it is to submit to a strange asceticism. Why should we deny ourselves the joy of reading the Commedia?