By Neal Stephenson. Copyright 2002 (reprint), Avon Publishing.

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Cryptonomicon is a difficult book to grapple with -- literally. The sheer size of the book, which in paperback form comes out almost the shape of a cube, is enough to scare some people away. And this isn't a huge book that is breezy to read. The text, once you are into it, is dense and packed with ideas that demand a reader's attention and consideration. Although I'm a big fan of the casual novel -- the speedy pulp thriller or espionage potboiler than be entirely consumed in a couple hours while commuting to and from work (on the train -- it's been years since I last read while driving) -- I also have my evening literature, which is substantially meatier, if not in content than certainly in physical size. And this is where Neal Stephenson swashbuckling tale of World War Two espionage and new millennium computer technology (among other things) found itself, at least at first. It quickly became so engrossing, however, that it became subway reading as well.

And this is why it's taken so long for me to dare attempt writing at any length about the book. Cryptonomicon is one of my favorite books. Although it clocks in at the thousand-page mark, the day I finished it, I immediately turned around and began rereading it, and I expect that will be come an annual event for me. Stephenson's story is so enthralling, the ideas it presents so interesting and challenging and worthy of contemplation, that there's really no way for me to stop reading the book. Even when I'm not physically going over the words on the page, there's some aspect of the book, some notion or idea or theory, some character or slice of action, that pops into my head on an almost daily basis. When something has gotten into my head on such a profound and affecting level, I tend to shy away from attempting to write about it, because nothing I could write in review would do justice to the subject matter. In such cases, I tend to go round and round with even less point and structure than usual, getting lost in my own thoughts, and failing to mention something I'd wanted to bring up before I got lost in the maelstrom of my own thought process. It's perhaps something that could be rectified if, you know, I instituted some sort of a policy against posting on-the-fly first drafts and then actually took the time to review and revise my own work. But that takes time and effort that I reserve for actual paying gigs, and while I don't want to shortchange Teleport City readers -- y'all are why I get professional writing jobs, after all -- the numerous typos and sentences that seem to loose track of themselves halfway through are definite testaments to the off-the-cuff gonzo style of writing that shows up on the site.

At the same time, I occasionally stumble across something I like so much that I feel the need to throw it up for consideration on Teleport City regardless of the fact that I'm going to fail at conveying everything I want about the work. My belief that TC readers will enjoy the source work, or that it might be otherwise ignored by people I think would enjoy it immensely, takes precedence over my considerable lack of skill at executing a proper write-up. And there. I've just managed to turn my lack of professionalism and skill into a tear-jerking tale of altruism and the desire to "spread the truth." Maybe I'm better at this than I give myself credit for.

Cryptonomicon is ostensibly two stories that weave in and out of one another. The first, and the one that kicks off the book, begins with the American withdrawal from Shanghai (itself a ripe topic for a month dedicated to espionage -- remind to get around to reviewing Secret War in Shanghai soon). U.S. Marine Bobby Shaftoe is in the middle of evacuating a bunch of high tech equipment he doesn't fully understand, though he grasps that it must play some role in espionage and intercepting Axis radio messages and bring him, eventually, to The Philippines during MacArthur's battle to reclaim the island from the Japanese.

Also in this particular time is Lawrence Waterhouse, a mathematical and musical prodigy who seems at times almost unable to function in other aspects of life. His knack for numbers gets him into school, though, where he becomes acquainted with mathematicians (also students at this time) Alan Turing and Rudy Von Haklheber. When war breaks out, however, Turning returns to England while Rudy is called back to Germany. Lawrence joins the Navy, where he's written off as a near-retarded imbecile until his ability with math and codes is discovered, which gets him assigned to a top secret mission revolving around breaking Axis codes and then properly using the information in a way that won't tip the Germans off to the fact that their codes have been broken. Eventually, Waterhouse will come to assume that Rudy is on the other side of the war doing the exact same thing with American codes and information.

The third big player in the World War II story is Japanese soldier Goto Dengo, an acquaintance of Shaftoe's when they were both stationed in Shanghai before the escalation of American-Japanese hostilities. Goto's odyssey propels him from Shanghai t a doomed ship, and finally to the jungles of the Philippine Islands and the ongoing battle between entrenched Japanese forces and Douglas MacArthur.

Mixed with this story, which is full of World War II intrigue, codebreaking, and espionage, is the story of Randy Waterhouse, a computer programmer and hacker in the present day, grandson of Lawrence Waterhouse. This Waterhouse is involved with his friend, Avi, in a business scheme that sees them using the Philippines as a jumping off point to creating a high-tech, high-speed data haven. Seeking out a company that can lay deep sea fiber optic cable, Randy meets Vietnam vet Douglas MacArthur Shaftoe, who along with his daughter Amy, runs just such a service -- with a little treasure hunting thrown in for good measure. The Philippines is, so they say, still bristling with hidden caches of Japanese war plunder, some of it deep in the jungles, some of it sitting on the ocean floor. The project, however, attracts the ire of a host of big time players, including bored millionaires, underworld lowlifes, and an aging Japanese businessman named Goto Dengo.

And then there's Enoch Root, who drifts between both stories with regularity, sort of like the Monolith in 2001, there to help nudge people in the right direction from time to time.

So summarize the plot is an exercise in hopelessness. For the first five-hundred pages, you may not even know exactly what's going on, why things are happening, or how the two timelines are even connected. Taking five-hundred pages before your book even begins to hint at what the plot will turn out to be is risky, but Neal Stephenson has no problem pulling it off. For starters, the entire scenario is intriguing enough to keep you reading just so you can see what the hell is going on. The book shifts effortlessly from action-packed thriller (Bobby Shaftoe and Goto Dengo) to scientific mystery (Lawrence Waterhouse and Rudy Haklheber), then ties both tendencies together in the modern storyline (Randy Waterhouse and Doug and Amy Shaftoe). Through the eyes of Lawrence, Stephenson has a tendency to indulge in minutely complicated descriptions of certain mathematical and crytpological esoterica, but it's generally quite interesting and always anchored by the more adventurous forays of Bobby Shaftoe.

But it's the characters who really keep the story afloat until the plot begins to clarify during the second five-hundred pages. Each one is expertly written and imminently likeable. It's easy to keep reading, because you want to see what happens to these people. Stephenson makes the reader emotionally invested in each of the primary players, and then uses the strength of these characters to build tension. When something good happens, you cheer. When something horrible happens, it's a downer. In the company of these people, Stephenson could have gone on weaving this story with no intention of ever resolving or concluding it, and I would have kept on reading for endless thousands of pages more.

The most interesting puzzle the book presents for readers to think about -- and there is a tome's worth of material that could spark worthwhile consideration and discussion -- revolves around what to do with information once you have it. The mantra during the early days of the digital revolution was that "information is power," but what Cryptonomicon explores as one of its central themes is what to do once you have that power. The focal point of this exploration is the cracking of the German Enigma code device. The Germans were so confident of the Enigma that they relied on it heavily for coded communications during the war. The Allies had cracked it, but they were faced with a conundrum: how could they act on what they'd learned from decoded German communications, but not go so far that it would tip their hand and alert the Germans to the fact that their messages were being decoded. When did you act, and when did you refrain, knowing that you were trading the lives of soldiers and civilians in order to maintain the flow of information that could help you prevent the loss of soldiers and civilians? This is the task with which Lawrence Waterhouse finds himself faced, and the effort to create plausible illusions that explain how Allied Forces may have obtained information without revealing the breaking of the Enigma Machine is what sends Bobby Shaftoe on a globe-trotting series of espionage and military operations that make absolutely no sense to him and seem to have no point -- because he doesn't have the information Lawrence has, and he doesn't know why these military non-sequeters are being staged.

There is, of course, plenty more than that in Stephenson's book, but that's a particularly interesting subject to me. Along the way, of course, there's the Turing Machine, Lawrence Waterhouse working to invent the first electronic computer in the basement of a Naval Intelligence installation in Australia, and the siege of the Philippines that provides the biggest link (besides familial relations) to the present-day storyline involving Randy, Doug, and Amy. Even at a thousand or so pages, Cryptonomicon is bursting at the seams with brilliant ideas and puzzles. It is, in short, a very easy book in which to find yourself lost, and once you're inside, there's little chance you're going to want to find your way back out any time soon. It's just too well-written, too smart, and too much fun.

Although Stephenson's past work means this book is automatically placed in the "Science Fiction" section of the local bookstore, it's not exactly among its peers there. There's nothing outside the realm of reality here, and the book these characters inhabit is very believably our own, past and present. I don't know whether that's a turn-off to people who only read sci-fi novels -- I assume them to be a more open-minded population of readers, but sometimes I am mistaken. Cryptonomicon is probably more solidly a techno-thriller, or an espionage potboiler. Or a dramatization of the world of computing and information technology during World War II. Or any dozen of other genres. I guess putting it in Sci-Fi is as good a place as any, since his other books are there, but I personally consider it very much an espionage book -- a much smarter, more technical, and richer espionage book than, say, your average Nick Carter paperback, but a thriller never the less. And forget any review that says it's a must-read for hackers and computer geeks -- although these things certainly play key roles in the book, an intimate knowledge of them is hardly a prerequisite for enjoying this book. Stephenson himself seems healthy in his lack of concern over genre and classification. At a thousand pages, it has room to encompass multitudes. I only mention here so you'll know where to look if you go to buy it.

I'm thinking I'm going to wrap this review up right now so I can go back and start reading the book yet again.

Stephenson continues the threads started in this book -- those of the advance of commerce, information, and technology and how they define and change society -- in a massive three-volume set known as "The Baroque Cycle," which involves the 17th Century ancestors of characters from Cryptonomicon. I've finished the first book and am about halfway through the second, and while enjoyable, they don't match the pure, sublime joy I get from Cryptonomicon. But I'm not reviewing those right now -- I'm just mentioning them so you know you don't have to write and tell me about them.

Labels: Scifi