Notes from the Burning Age

WHAT A BOOK. Sitting down to write a review about it feels like trying to describe a dream; condensing it with words collapses a multi-layered thing down into colorless banality, but I’ll give it a go.

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The story is about a post-apocalyptic world in which a group of people (called the Brotherhood) are determined to dig out data stored on hard drives in order to build machines of war so they can conquer everything. It’s also a love story between two people who shared an intense experience when they were young and are still drawn together. It’s also a story of two smart men who strive to tear each other down, to turn the other to their side. It’s also the story about putting the gods in their place.

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It does a great job of explaining why people show reverence to the gods: not because the gods give a shit about human concerns, but because doing so shapes a person into someone who understands their context and is grateful for it.

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We give thanks because to honour the kakuy is to honour ourselves; we forgive ourselves, we love ourselves, thank our bodies and our sight, our coming in and our going out.

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Side note: I feel this is one of the few positive things that can be said about the influence of religion on humankind. When a person prays or does a religious action, they are recognizing that there is a power greater than them. I think that is an important lesson in humility that a lot of people need to learn.

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This is a deeply spiritual book that never falls into saccharine sweetness or preachy heavy handedness. The language and cultural references she uses add depth - like the subtleties of bowing and referring to people as ‘kin’; as in “Good morning, sky-kin!” or “Thank you for the shelter, water-kin”. I also really liked that the author chose to refer to the high priests as 'they'. A person dedicated to spiritual growth does reach a level of attainment that supersedes gender and I feel the knowledge and respect in the author's choice.

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I sit and watch myself speak, and for a little while I am not myself but the wind, drifting in and out of my breath, and the earth, pressed beneath me, and the water in my eyes and the sea in my blood, and it is impossible that I might drown, being made already of the world that will take me into it.

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I liked how the author reframes what we currently consider human triumph into flotsam found in a dump. What will be left of us after we have incinerated ourselves? Colorful strings of plastic and servers full of text messages that say “What r u doing rn"? Blueprints on hard drives that explain how toilets operate on ships and how to make a cluster bomb?

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There’s always a moment in a book in which I am hooked. Even if I am doing other things, a part of my mind remains on the story. Usually that happens about 80% into a book, when the climax is ramping up. I felt that way about this book 40% of the way into it. There’s so much to chew on and the writing is delicious.

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It takes a while to wake me, having to push through an inordinate amount of blanket and tangled reluctance before my brain registers the day. When it does, I forget for a moment where I am and think that this is what it will be like when I am old, and mad, and every day is a new form of being born, without a parent to love you.

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This book is a slow burn with great tension and so many moments of intensity, I felt chewed up and spit out by the end of it. You know what's coming but it unfolds with careful pacing and some surprises along the way.

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This is really, really good. I look forward to reading another book by this author.