Astrid Hawk
When I first started reading this, I was struck by how similar the setup was to Recursion, by Blake Crouch, and wondered why no one was talking about it. The speculative "science" used in this book is nearly identical to the technology that Crouch uses in Recursion. In both books, a non-technical but incredibly rich megalomaniac constructs a secret lab and hires physicists and neurobiologists to build a device that captures and replays "memories", allowing the subject to time travel to his own recorded memories. Both evil masterminds argue that the technology can be used to improve alzheimers patients' lives, and for un-writing the bad events of the world, while of course secretly planning to use it for their own ends. In both books, the technology developed involves immersion in a sensory deprivation tank and a drug injection - although in Crouch's book they rely on drugs the human brain itself has been known to produce on death. And both books rely on the male protagonist's main motivation for returning to the past being the sudden death of a daughter.
At first, I thought the similarities were almost suspicious - aside from the writing style and tone, everything was lining up a little too well. I still can't explain the mechanical similarities, but this is definitely not just a lit-fic version of Crouch's thriller. The technology in Lightbreakers rather quickly takes a backseat to the more philosophical questions of how one determines truth and reality given that all memory is incorrect / incomplete, whereas Crouch's book keeps the tech and the time travel at the center of the plot and the action.
I wasn't a huge fan of Recursion because I felt that the characters were underdeveloped and that the book focused too much on the exaggerated, escalating conflict over who had the rights to use and build the technology. But in Lightbreakers, I found the focus on the characters' personal challenges overly frustrating. Maya and Eileen felt like the same person to me, just with different experiences, and Noah was portrayed as immature and weak through all phases of life we see - incapable of making good decisions and figuring himself out, and waiting for others to tell him who he is and what makes sense for him.
My biggest issue with this book, though, was how slowly it moved but still failed to fully develop the many ideas it was presenting. It had an ambitious concept, weaving together themes of grief and loss, children of intercultural marriages and the challenge of defining what is "home", self-definition through vocation and relationships, art (and the art world of reviewing art, making art, and expression through color and movement), and of course memory and the unchangeable nature of the past defining the future. The writing was beautiful, particularly when it came to describing the characters making and experiencing art, but when it came to the characters' thoughts and conversations, it felt like the author was deliberately talking over the readers' heads. I was reminded a bit of My Friends, where every other thought/statement from a character needed to be a philosophical revelation on the human condition.
In the end, I had to treat this book like a school assignment to get through it - which is really disappointing, because I think the concepts and the writing had a lot of potential to be something really immersive and enjoyable.
When I first started reading this, I was struck by how similar the setup was to Recursion, by Blake Crouch, and wondered why no one was talking about it. The speculative "science" used in this book is nearly identical to the technology that Crouch uses in Recursion. In both books, a non-technical but incredibly rich megalomaniac constructs a secret lab and hires physicists and neurobiologists to build a device that captures and replays "memories", allowing the subject to time travel to his own recorded memories. Both evil masterminds argue that the technology can be used to improve alzheimers patients' lives, and for un-writing the bad events of the world, while of course secretly planning to use it for their own ends. In both books, the technology developed involves immersion in a sensory deprivation tank and a drug injection - although in Crouch's book they rely on drugs the human brain itself has been known to produce on death. And both books rely on the male protagonist's main motivation for returning to the past being the sudden death of a daughter.
At first, I thought the similarities were almost suspicious - aside from the writing style and tone, everything was lining up a little too well. I still can't explain the mechanical similarities, but this is definitely not just a lit-fic version of Crouch's thriller. The technology in Lightbreakers rather quickly takes a backseat to the more philosophical questions of how one determines truth and reality given that all memory is incorrect / incomplete, whereas Crouch's book keeps the tech and the time travel at the center of the plot and the action.
I wasn't a huge fan of Recursion because I felt that the characters were underdeveloped and that the book focused too much on the exaggerated, escalating conflict over who had the rights to use and build the technology. But in Lightbreakers, I found the focus on the characters' personal challenges overly frustrating. Maya and Eileen felt like the same person to me, just with different experiences, and Noah was portrayed as immature and weak through all phases of life we see - incapable of making good decisions and figuring himself out, and waiting for others to tell him who he is and what makes sense for him.
My biggest issue with this book, though, was how slowly it moved but still failed to fully develop the many ideas it was presenting. It had an ambitious concept, weaving together themes of grief and loss, children of intercultural marriages and the challenge of defining what is "home", self-definition through vocation and relationships, art (and the art world of reviewing art, making art, and expression through color and movement), and of course memory and the unchangeable nature of the past defining the future. The writing was beautiful, particularly when it came to describing the characters making and experiencing art, but when it came to the characters' thoughts and conversations, it felt like the author was deliberately talking over the readers' heads. I was reminded a bit of My Friends, where every other thought/statement from a character needed to be a philosophical revelation on the human condition.
In the end, I had to treat this book like a school assignment to get through it - which is really disappointing, because I think the concepts and the writing had a lot of potential to be something really immersive and enjoyable.