I've always been ambivalent about Greg Egan's science fiction. On the one hand, he is unmistakeably one of the most erudite, intelligent, and thoughtful authors who have ever turned their hand to SF. On the other, his books are decidedly not the kind you can't put down. Gripping, suspenseful, exciting - those are the qualities you do not expect from an Egan novel, and "Zendegi" differs only slightly in that respect. It does differ, because I suspect that Egan has made a big effort to change his style and subject matter, and that does come across very clearly. Whereas many of his previous books are set in the far future, with characters who are barely human or utterly inhuman, "Zendegi" takes place in the very near future (2012-2028, to be precise). And it is set in Iran - the very crucible of today's most agonising political, religious, and cultural disputes. Instead of abstract mathematical and scientific issues of quantum theory or virtual reality, "Zendegi" deals with flesh and blood human beings and their everyday lives. Actually, virtual reality does play a large part in the plot, but Egan brilliantly shows how it might first impinge on ordinary people: of course, as entertainment! I was reminded of Clay Shirky's idea, in "Cognitive Surplus", that TV series are today's equivalent of the gin that lubricated social change in 18th century London. Maybe commercial VR experiences, like the eponymous Zendegi, will be the next step along that path.
I very much wanted to warm to "Zendegi", the more so because of its obvious good-heartedness and worthiness. Unfortunately, a rebellious part of my brain kept on resenting what it saw as Egan's moral lecturing. Perhaps the Iran of today and the next few years was simply too controversial and emotionally charged a background to choose? The difficulty is summed up in a few words exchanged between Martin, the protagonist, and Omar, the friend who is to bring up Martin's young son Javeed if Martin dies in an imminent surgical operation. "I know he's your son," says Omar. "I know you want him to have your ideas, not mine". Martin is a liberal atheist from Australia, while Omar is a relatively modern, open-minded Iranian Muslim who nevertheless has old-fashioned ideas about how women should behave (for instance). Martin does not want Javeed to acquire Omar's "bigoted" ideas, but his own "correct" ones; but it never occurs to him to wonder if it might not be best to let Javeed come to his own conclusions (as indeed he is bound to in the long run). And isn't the very belief that one's own ideas are the only correct ones the essence of bigotry?
That's my personal reaction to "Zendegi", and it's quite possible you will read the book with great interest and end up wondering why I got so worked up about the moral aspects. As in all of Egan's books, you learn a huge amount rather effortlessly - which is one of the reasons I find them so hard to read quickly. (I need to stop and think about what I have learned every few pages). There is the technical matter of approaching VR and the simulation of human personality by approximations, so to speak, by the complementary techniques of analysing sliced-up brains and monitoring living ones while they think or act. And there is the political and cultural information about Iran, the huge changes bubbling away under the surface and occasionally breaking out in violence or revolution. It's not science fiction as we know it, Jim; but it is a very good book indeed and one that I strongly recommend - if you like your science fiction realistic, fact-based, and above all thought-provoking.