Form: physical copy, edition 1993
Approx reading time: 6 hours - lots of pauses to reflect and take in passages
A trippy poetic dream, a finding and loss of self, to exist in between. A metaphor for the psyche’s inability to choose anything other than what it has been made to believe. The incomprehensibility of believing in anything that has not been thought of before or mandated by the benefactor. I’ll remember this book fondly. What a tragic world without imagination all succumbed to abide by the Machine. It actually draws out themes and a world similar to a story I’m working on right now. The protagonist is one part aggravating and intoxicatingly juvenile in spite of having 32 years under his belt, and the other part endearing, a child learning what can be possible.
The book reminded me quite a bit of 1984 even though this came first so if anything, Orwell took a page or a few from this one. One of my favorites. I’ll be recommending this one. Long live I-330.