What do you think?
Rate this book
384 pages, Hardcover
First published August 26, 2014
“Life was a struggle to exist at the expense of other life.”A few weeks ago I read Blindsight and emerged from that reading session breathtakingly (even if slightly confusingly) fascinated and dazzled by the far-reaching hard SF and existential questions. (I also mostly managed to filter out the vampire character from my clearly suboptimal consciousness). And I felt strangely disturbing empathy for Siri Keeton- a weird and supposedly unlikable enhanced-human protagonist whose struggles hit a strange chord with me.
As Watts himself states in the “Notes” section at the end of the book - the part that I actually liked:————
“[…] the neurological condition of echopraxia is to autonomy as blindsight is to consciousness.”
“Truth had never been a priority. If believing a lie kept the genes proliferating, the system would believe that lie with all its heart.”
“What—what is this mission, exactly?” Brüks asked softly.
“Mmmm.” Sengupta rocked gently back and forth. “They know God exists already that’s old. I think now they’re trying to figure what to do with It.”
“What to do with God.”
“Maybe worship. Maybe disinfect.”
The word hung there, reeking of blasphemy.
“How do you disinfect God?” Brüks said after a very long time.”
“Dan, you gotta let go of this whole self thing. Identity changes by the second, you turn into someone else every time a new thought rewires your brain.”
“A fifth of the world’s energy supply, in the hands of an intelligent slime mold from outer space.”
“It actually did remind him of a spider, in fact. One particular genus that had become legendary among invertebrate zoologists and computational physicists alike: a problem-solver that improvised and drew up plans far beyond anything that should have been able to fit into such a pinheaded pair of ganglia. Portia. The eight-legged cat, some had called it. The spider that thought like a mammal.”But while Rorschach in the previous book was endlessly fascinating to me, the quiet menace of Portia - even after that ending - was just underwhelming enough to continue persistent confused monotony.
"Then we're stupid and we'll die."
—Pris, in Blade Runner (1982)
Watts's literary science fiction is engaging and stunningly bleak, but he asks all the right questions about our evolution.More about both parts of that observation later...
—The Washington Post, on Echopraxia
These deaths were the closest that Darwin's universe would ever come to altruism.
—p.27
"Art," Moore said. "I remember."
—p.174
Truth had never been a priority. If believing a lie kept the genes proliferating, the system would believe that lie with all its heart.
—p.177
"Oh, they get bored sometimes. Kids, you know. But all it takes is a little judicious injustice, some new atrocity visited on the little people. Get them all fired up again, and off they go."And I thought I was cynical... this last quote resonated with me strongly, though, living as I do just a mile or two from downtown Portland, Oregon, where kids—and others—have been all fired up for months now as I write.
—p.231
That's what it sounded like, anyway: the soft muffled whoomph of far-off ordinance.Sigh... explosives are ordnance, dammit... although I will concede that ordinances often do more damage.
—p.28
"Let's just agree that neither side has a monopoly on assholes."
—Lianna, p.183
"I'll give you that much—you've actually turned incompetence into a survival strategy."Heh... speaking as a boring old baseline human myself, I have to agree.
—p.265
Look, Brüks wanted to say: fifty thousand years ago there were these three guys spread out across the plain, and they each heard something rustling in the grass. The first one thought it was a tiger, and he ran like hell, and it was a tiger but the guy got away. The second one thought the rustling was a tiger, and he ran like hell, but it was only the wind and his friends laughed at him for being such a chickenshit. But the third guy, he thought it was only the wind, so he shrugged it off and a tiger had him for dinner. And the same thing happened a million times across ten thousand generations—and after awhile everyone was seeing tigers in the grass even when there weren't any tigers, because even chickenshits have more kids than corpses do. And from those humble beginnings we learned to see faces in the clouds and portents in the stars, to see agency in randomness, because natural selection favors the paranoid. Even here in the twenty-first century you can make people more honest just by scribbling a pair of eyes on the wall with a Sharpie. Even now, we are wired to believe that unseen things are watching us.
—pp.180-181