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It still strikes me as being absolutely absurd that Orson Scott Card should be so bigoted in his personal beliefs, because every time I read his books I find myself filled with an awareness of being part of something bigger than myself.
It's the way he writes about humanity as a whole -- his piercing sense of the conflict between our lust to destroy and our constant attempts to build larger and larger communities. The way he presents a picture of where our race will be in hundreds or thousands or millions of years and fills us simultaneously with unbearable sorrow for our failings and bursting joy for our virtues.
Reading Pastwatch at 2:30 in the morning, I understand exactly what is meant by the phrase "a terrible beauty."
Right now I'm just about halfway through. I just finished reading the passage where the heroes are suddenly confronted with the full extent of the damage done to the Earth, and we finally comprehend the horrible, calamitous finale of the modern era. And after hearing Kaitlin's story about the city of the dead at Milk and Cookies earlier tonight, it just got to be too much overwhelming sadness for me. Beautiful sorrow, yes, but hitting me far deeper in my sleepy state than it has any right to.
Which is why I'm here writing now. I had to get it out of my system.
I know if I stay up to finish the book, I'll go to sleep with an idiotically blissful smile on my face, because this novel has one of the most gloriously life-affirming conclusions ever, not least due to the depths to which our hopes sink midway through.
I'm debating the virtues of staying up another two hours, however. I'll let you know.
...
Oh, and for god's sake, read Pastwatch if you never have. It's easily one of my favorite science fiction books ever.
[Edit: dude, there's a sequel coming out next January! AWESOME.]
It's the way he writes about humanity as a whole -- his piercing sense of the conflict between our lust to destroy and our constant attempts to build larger and larger communities. The way he presents a picture of where our race will be in hundreds or thousands or millions of years and fills us simultaneously with unbearable sorrow for our failings and bursting joy for our virtues.
Reading Pastwatch at 2:30 in the morning, I understand exactly what is meant by the phrase "a terrible beauty."
Right now I'm just about halfway through. I just finished reading the passage where the heroes are suddenly confronted with the full extent of the damage done to the Earth, and we finally comprehend the horrible, calamitous finale of the modern era. And after hearing Kaitlin's story about the city of the dead at Milk and Cookies earlier tonight, it just got to be too much overwhelming sadness for me. Beautiful sorrow, yes, but hitting me far deeper in my sleepy state than it has any right to.
Which is why I'm here writing now. I had to get it out of my system.
I know if I stay up to finish the book, I'll go to sleep with an idiotically blissful smile on my face, because this novel has one of the most gloriously life-affirming conclusions ever, not least due to the depths to which our hopes sink midway through.
I'm debating the virtues of staying up another two hours, however. I'll let you know.
...
Oh, and for god's sake, read Pastwatch if you never have. It's easily one of my favorite science fiction books ever.
[Edit: dude, there's a sequel coming out next January! AWESOME.]
