days of wine and roses

First off, ditto all the stuff that Bertram pointed out. In the course of describing the contents of a fictitious 18th century French encyclopedia which develops an alternate philosopher of the universe, Crumey plays on many themes in 20th century computer science and philosophy of mind, all to hilarious effect. What better response to Searle than a Chinese Room setup that works, only makes the Chinese-ignorant people inside the room feel guilty for the effects of their machinations? (I realise that's confusing and vague, but you'll have to read it). And the literary allusions are out of control. The whole book bears a haunting familiarity to Flaubert and Borges, and then he manages to work them into the story in the last ten pages.

Which brings me to my only reservations. The story gracefully pulls together the tales of 84 year old Mr. Mee's quest for Rosier's Encyclopedia, a French Literature professor's obsessions for some marginal characters in Rousseau's Confessions and a university student, successively, and the not clearly factual account of the two copyists who lie at the center of both the other stories. Maybe I lack a particular British sensibility, but Mee's story, which is clearly intended to be humorous, often just came off as cute but tiresome. Granted, there's real humor in the moment when someone nearly a century old discovers the world of the internet (including its murkier corners), but I have to agree with him about his young friend's reactions to his ignorance about the world. It gets real old real fast when she keeps saying "you mean you've never heard of . . . ?" But so does Mee's stupor when encountering all these new parts of the world he was utterly unaware of. By comparison, Petrie's story (the aforementioned Lit professor) is at times poignant, tragic, and filled with literary references and allusions. I suppose that might be what gets old for certain types of readers, but I found myself burning through the pages of his story, and getting bogged down once Mee started up again with his schtick which didn't really change all that much (even the resolution fails to take anyone by surprise, since it's exactly what you're made to expect).

This copy is being lent out right away, but do try to get your hands on one in the meantime. Fans of Borges, Eco, and similar writers won't be disappointed. I'm even planning to hand it off to certain Proust lovers I know.