The Diamond Age or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer

I very rarely read or see anything that I can empathize with. I'll be excited, or fascinated, or really enjoy the artistry, or technique, or something about the story arc. And I'll still see the entire work.

But The Diamond Age was different. Somehow, it actually drew me in. I couldn't stop reading once I started. It is done not only with such brutally elegant circular self-reference as to make even Douglas Hofstadter feel shamelessly inadequate, but also really does capture the feel of a Victorian novel, combined with the stark Roccocco elegance of steampunk, set in a post-singularity future that shows some disturbing similarities to our pre-singular existence.

I cried. Many times. I couldn't stop crying for days in parts. I finished it in a day, and I cried for days. It's actually light reading by the standards set by Necronomicon and exceeded by The Baroque Cycle.

Stephenson is an incredibly skillful master of writing whatever the fuck he wants, no matter how crass, and weaving it so perfectly into the story that you're captivated at just how base some passages are, and shocked back to the story once the passage ends and the next begins, and it only makes things that much better.

Read Diamond Age now.