Sapiens

I don't say this often, but... everyone should read this book. Sapiens offers a rare chance to step outside of your life and look at the big picture, while being throughly entertained by some brilliantly clear and compelling writing.

From cave men to artificial intelligence, Harari covers where humans come from, what we've done, why we've done it and what we might do next. It's highly readable, incredibly succinct considering the scope and certainly never dull.

In tracking human progress, from hunter-gatherers 'of no signifiance' to the atomic bomb and the internet, Harai is particularly adept at identifying and exploring the ideas, myths and beliefs that have made it all possible. He explores big concepts with breezy simplicity - gender, money, writing, empire, religion, science and ideology - explaining how they came about and how they have influenced the development of human societies.

This is all illustrated with fascinating detail, zooming into relatable events in order to reflect wider trends. In this way Harari navigates the complexity of human history, while retaining his expansive perspective. He also manages to challenge over-simplified or distorted interpretations of events - albeit with a light touch relative to more academic texts.

While largely balanced, there is a welcome polemic element to his writing too. Harai often returns to man made environmental change and animal welfare in order to raise questions about the impact of mankind beyond the mirrored walls of of human culture. He also identifies a number of traits which appear to have shaped his own worldview. These include the importance of imagination in the organisation of human society, a fascination for our individual capacity to hold contradictory beliefs at the same time, and a longitudinal trend towards an ever closer integration of the world population.

It is the author's ability to frame big questions within the broad sweep of human history in such an accessible and entertaining way that make this book so good. I can honestly say that it has changed my way of thinking.

Spook Country revisted

When it was first published, I found the cover design and title 'Spook Country' a little perplexing. It seemed somehow un-Gibson, like the novel had been packaged as a mass-market spy thriller. I could only hope that this would lead more people to discover the depth of perspective that it offered. Of course, like so much of of Gibson's writing, I don't think I appreciated this depth at the time. It now seems even more prescient.

All the usual Gibson traits are there: near future-technology (this time 'locative' virtual reality - which could now be seen as both fore-runner of augmented reality and the new generation of VR); subcultures (art world, systema, free-running, BASE jumping) habitual drug use (benzos, coffee and broasted potatoes); enthralling story; profound insights and a cast of characters who effortlessly redefine cool.

There's also the sense of zeitgeist. Unlike previous trilogies, which reflect their time through projections of the future, Gibson has very intentionally rooted this series in the culture it was written. The use of present or near future technology in fiction is always going to timestamp your work. Here Gibson is explicit in this use - drawing on wi-fi, iPods, clam phones (soon to be made obselete by the smart phone) and specific brand names. As a result, with the series published between 2003 and 2010, he has documented one of the most rapid and significant decades of change in regard to our relationship with communications technology.

The point about brand names is important, Gibson was keen to stress when speaking in London at the publication of 'Zero History'. This codified language is central to our experience in the world of the early 21st century. Whereas his previous novels painted corporations as machivellian international powers (think 1990s anti-globalisation protests), the relationship here is more complex. It is personified in the charachter of Hubertus Bigend, the London-based Belgian marketing guru behind the mysterious Blue Ant and the one constant in all three books. Often the fixer and the enabler, he guides the achingly cool female lead characters down the rabbit hole of cutting edge cool in search of truth. And yet his motives are never clear. Through an R&D division with bottomless resources, he is ostensibly on the hunt for anything cool that he can co-opt into his marketing business to sell brands. In doing so he co-opts the female leads themselves, challenging them to question how far they want to sign themselves away to this seemingly benign, yet alarmingly omnipient, commercial entity. Sound familiar?