Rating: Summary: Engrossing Thought Provoking SciFi Masterpiece Review: Walter Miller was obviously a very intelligent man and this gem is less well known than it deserves to be. Miller combines humor, religion, and archaeology with a plausible end of the world doomsday scenario. There are bright moments but the novel ends depressingly with mankind destroying itself (again) after two thoudand years have been spent recovering from the previous end-of-the-world event. The story is entertaining despite having a unusual structure of taking place over a two thousand year period. The only constant is the monastery of Saint Leibowitz and the piety of the monks cloistered therein. Like the monks of medieval Europe who preserved and transmitted some of the knowledge of the classical world, the monks of Saint Liebowitz carefully preserve scraps of information from the vanished world of the late twentieth century. Just as the Renaissance was brought about by renewed interest in and discovery of relics of the classical world, in this book the rediscovery of the technology of the late twentieth century century brings about a second Renaissance. The only downside is the pessimistic ending, reflective perhaps of the inner demons that led Miller to commit suicide many years after writing this book.
Rating: Summary: Top Sci-fi Books ever written Review: Easily one of the top sci-fi stories written. This is a classic. It fills in so many gaps that are present in mainstream science fiction novels. There is indeed room for faith amongst the development of a possible future for the world. The connection between past, present, and future along with the circular nature of our fate works so well in this novel. I will never forget even the minor plot character such as Lazarus.
Rating: Summary: it's Review: Americans seem to have a big problem reading European languages, but Liebowitz ('Leebowitz'), which I frequently read in essays about this book is a huge mistake, only surpassed by the guy who did it the other way around, and invented the "Weiner Schnitzel" meaning that Wine(=Wein in german) has something to do with it or, even worse, crying (Weinen=Whineing). Fact is that the Wiener Schnitzel was invented in Vienna, or Wien as they say in Austria. Mistakes like this can cost you dear when visiting an other country! You might end up eating a baked football you ordered. "Liebowitz" fortunately has no special meaning, but I wonder about people who write a serious essay about a book without the decency to read and write the title correctly... Enough said about cultural differences between actual living people, let's move on to the book. There are in my eyes three good books written which combine both religion and serious science fiction, and apart from "A Case of Conscience" by James Blish and "Deus Irae" by Philip K. Dick and Roger Zelazny this is the other one. Other writers may have tried to combine these subjects, but after reading some 4000 books I can assure you: no one came even close. One might even argue that the Dick/Zelazny was more or less a copy of this book, but I leave that to you, the reader. Walter M. Miller recently wrote a sequel to this book as well, Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman
Rating: Summary: Outstanding premise and good execution Review: Walter Miller's book demonstrates well just what power speculative fiction can have, and why the best of it deserves to be released from the SF ghetto and ranked alongside the best works of "mainstream" fiction.The post- and pre-apocalyptic story of mankind's self destructiveness and the dangers of blind faith in science is well executed, covering hundreds of years, with a long-standing monastery taking the place of one consistent character (unless you count Benjamin, an enigmatic figure who pops up throughout and is likely the Wandering Jew). I have to deduct a star from the rating because I think the tripartite structure does cause some unfortunate (though perhaps necessary) awkwardness, and because I strongly disagree with one of Miller's big conclusions about the power and worth of faith in God. Nonetheless, this Hugo Award winner definitely deserves your readership.
Rating: Summary: A pinnacle of the genre Review: "A Canticle For Leibowitz" represents not only the best of the "apocalyptic fiction" genre, but it is also one of the most unique, for two reasons. First, the story takes place in three unique segments over the span of about 1800 years. The first section corresponds roughly to the early Dark Ages, the second to the Renaissance (with the benefit of 20th century technology as an example) and the third to what we might expect of the 2200's barring self-annihilation. What links these otherwise disparate periods is the second unique feature of the book: the use of a Catholic monastery as the setting for the bulk of the novel. In much the same way that monasteries preserved classical thinking through the Dark Ages, so to does the Albertian Order of Leibowitz preserve 20th century learning, often to their dismay. This use of religion may strike some as odd, even sacrilegious, but it is a surprisingly effective vehicle for Miller's consideration of the morality of mankind. His purpose is to consider whether humanity's pursuit of knowledge comes at the cost of our happiness and our very souls. Only the backdrop of an institution as long lived as the Church would prove suitable for such an endeavor. Furthermore, while it's only fair to admit that I am Catholic, I don't believe that you need be religious, or even believe in God to appreciate this novel. Miller's arguments are more moral than religious; the monastery just provides a vehicle for his discussion. As for the story itself, it is absolutely fascinating, all "big picture" elements aside. One might think that a story told over such a great span of time would be disjointed, but that is not the case at all. Miller creates a fascinating picture of a world clawing its way out of the horror of nuclear holocaust. In the first section, the world has reverted to ignorance as the survivors of the war (the "Flame Deluge") have turned their backs on science and literacy in revulsion at what "progress" wrought. Only Saint Leibowitz, a former nuclear scientist, and his followers struggle to preserve learning. In the second section, mankind has begun its rebirth, and looks to the "Memorabilia" as a touchstone to progress. Finally, in the third section, mankind has once again placed itself above nature and is prepared to reap the horrors it has created. Yet even at this bleakest point of global déjà vu, Miller sees hope. Technology is not inherently evil, in fact it's neutral, and while it does give us the power to destroy ourselves, it also gives us the ability to save ourselves and try to avoid the mistakes of the past. Hopefully, it will even grant us the ability to break the vicious cycle of man's fall from grace. Throughout the novel, actions in one era echo through the others, such that seemingly insignificant events take on great importance in later chapters. Often funny or ironic, and frequently sad, this resonance is Miller's way of trying to show there is hope in the lessons of the past, even as he predicts a bleak cycle of violence. At the same time, it is fascinating to follow the rise of political dynasties and the evolution of life on earth over 1800 years. Not only does Miller create an arc than spans two millennia, but he plugs in little asides and historical footnotes that bring great depth to his creation. "A Canticle For Leibowitz" is a powerful novel, rich in both story and moral and intellectual thought. It is a dire warning against mankind placing itself above nature, but it is also a fascinating, brilliantly conceived and executed story. It rightly ranks as a classic of the Cold War era, but is no less powerful for having been written 55 years ago. Whether you are looking for apocalyptic sci-fi, thoughtfully commentary, or just an enjoyable read, "A Canticle For Leibowitz" has it all.
Rating: Summary: Hits Very Close to Home Review: With all the recent talk of potential nuclear terrorist attacks and the current threat of nuclear war between India and Pakistan, A Canticle for Leibowitz is as fresh and meaningful today as it was when it was first published in 1959. Readers may, at first, be surprised by how Catholic this novel is. It follows the Albertian Order of Leibowitz - a future religious order of bookleggers and memorizers who have been entrusted with the safekeeping of history in their monastery. Set 2000 years into the future, the book examines what remains after the human race virtually destroys itself through nuclear war, and the gradual rebuilding of society brought again to the brink of nuclear war in the far distant future. The novel is both terrifying and fascinating. One comes away from the book recognizing the eternal nature of the Church, and the role of monastics to safeguard doctrine.
Rating: Summary: Those who learn from the past are condemned to repeat it. Review: A Canticle for Leibowitz begins when nuclear warfare (aka The Flame Deluge) destroys the vast majority of civilization. Immediately following the holocaust, a group of survivors called The Simpletons wage a full-scale pogrom and book burning campaign against surviving scientists, politicians, teachers, etc. - those they feel were responsible for the war. The new Dark Age is called The Simplification, which lasts for many hundreds of years. A former physicist named Isaac Leibowitz devotes his life to the Catholic Church after the Deluge. Leibowitz is able to persuade the Church (whom The Simpletons leave alone to a certain extent) to protect whatever written material remains. After being turned over to The Simpletons by a turncoat technician, Leibowitz is killed and considered a martyr by the church. ACfL is a story that spans nearly twelve centuries centering on the abbey seeks to canonize Leibowitz, The Albertian Order of Leibowitz. The story is broken into three sections: Fiat Homo, Fiat Lux, and Fiat Voluntas Tua. Fiat Homo is about a bumbling young monk named Brother Francis who has a squabble with The Wandering Jew, who later directs Francis to a bomb shelter which contains a few papers that may have belonged to Leibowitz himself. Fiat Lux deals with a war about to be started by powermad dictator Hannegan, who is Idi Amin-like in his stupidity. The dictator's nephew is a brilliant scientist who hasn't quite come to terms with the fact his discoveries are actually rediscoveries. Fiat Voluntas Tua shows two warring societies about to make the same mistake that nearly destroyed humanity eighteen hundred years before. In addition to writing this brilliant novel, the late Walter M. Miller Jr. was in the same bombing raid that destroyed Benedictine Abbey at Monte Casino during World War II. This event I'm certain had much to do with Miller writing ACfL. ACfL brilliantly proves how no amount of technological progress exempts us from responsibilty for our deeds. When something bad happens, be it to us or someone else, we are not to say "That's life." in order to lessen the load on ourselves. ACfL also points out how people have gone to downright atrocious extremes to reclaim Eden instead of accepting the world as it is. The closer someone comes to making paradise for themselves, the more miserable they become. In short, the problem is not technology. The problem is not God. The problem is us.
Rating: Summary: Canticle for Leibowitz Review: This is a gorgeously written, wonderfully structured book, which remains relevant despite its obvious Cold War inspiration. After a nuclear holocaust, an order of monks has preserved what they can of civilization -- it's a deliberate reference to the European "Dark Ages", and Miller carries it off well. Society rebuilds itself... only to fall into warfare once again. I found myself wanting to hear some of the stories mentioned only in passing here -- the abandoned and betrayed Laredan troops particularly caught my interest -- and that, I think, is a sign of good worldbuilding. The story is told in episodes, some hundreds or more years apart, but the characters are still quite engaging. Miller's writing is a little old-fashioned and expository, but is also clear, lucid and precise. The combination of powerful themes and understated language makes this book a genuinely moving one which, in my view, deserves credit as bonafide literature.
Rating: Summary: Like an illuminated manuscript, grows in value over time Review: It was with some trepidation that I sat down to read "A Chronicle for Leibowitz" for the fourth time, and for the first time in two decades. Could it possibly be as good as I remembered it? Would the great-granddaddy of all nuclear apocalypse books seem like a period piece, now that we know mankind has dodged the mushroom-shaped bullet? It was better than I remembered it. There's so much wisdom, so much breadth of sympathy for humanity in every state of belief and unbelief, so much erudition, so many sly jokes I hadn't caught the first three times. The more you learn, the more you grow, the more you'll find this remarkable book has to offer. (And, incidentally, the book stretches your perceptions further than yesterday's headlines. Yes, mankind has dodged one nuclear bullet; but our self-destructive folly is still with us, the weapons have not been destroyed, and our wise leaders have begun telling us it's important to keep the ones we have in reserve, and a good idea to build more of them.) The book begins after atomic apocalypse, abetted by mob rage, has dismanteld all of civilization except the Catholic Church. It is structured as a series of three novellas, separated by centuries of future time. These novellas, linked by a common location at the abbey of Saint Leibowitz in the Utah desert, encourage identification with richly detailed , funny, admirable characters; and then enforce a cool objectivity by sweeping those characters away into the dust of the past. The simultaneous caring attachment and disengagement that result are more effective than any theological treatise in conveying a sense of what it might be like to practice the virtue known as charity. On one level, the whole book becomes a medieval _memento mori_, a reminder of the transience of life. On another level, it is a tryptich: an ornate altarpiece painted in three realistic panels. The panels proceed from near future to far future, and from innocence (the bumbling and easily awed novice Brother Francis, through whose misadventures the Blessed Leibowitz becomes canonized) to devastating experience (the abbot of Saint Leibowitz, providing for the continuity of a human race that may never outgrow its self-destructiveness, forced to impose and to suffer crucifixions, and to watch an hours-old child begotten by virgin birth die before his eyes.) The midcentury saw four great sf novels on the theme of the apocalypse. One (George Stewart's "Earth Abides") preceded this one, and in its own way matched its dignity and grandeur, though not its multileveled complexity. The other two, Zelazny and Dick's "Deus Irae" and Fritz Leiber's "A Specter Is Haunting Texas", both now sadly out of print, owe obvious debts to Miller's work. But in the end, Leibowitz stands alone.
Rating: Summary: Anyone got the Cliff's Notes? Review: Alot of Latin... This book should have come with a glossary. The story, however, was intriguing but again, it fell short of being satisfying by not providing answers. The ending was the best part of the book...the last ending, that is, as the world keeps getting destroyed and this book covers thousands of years. I plan to read the sequel to see if Saint Leibowitz finds the one for whom he is searching.
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