Anathem

In a sanctuary in another universe, scientists, philosophers, and mathematicians are protected from the outside world. The parallels to a cloister are accentuated by the music introducing each chapter, which is reminiscent of Gregorian chant--but different. Similarly, this world is like Earth, and the culture is like Western culture on Earth--but different. A lover of wordplay, Stephenson precedes each chapter with a definition, which he reads. This book is not for the faint of heart, but William Dufris and the rest of the cast make the audiobook a good option. Dufris is stalwart in his engagement with the characters, the plot, and the development of the cosmology. He brings out the characters' personalities and creates a sense of wonder as the complexities unfold. J.E.M. (c) AudioFile 2009, Portland, Maine

Starred review from November 24, 2008
This audiobook goes the extra mile, giving listeners something the printed page-turner can not. Fans of the cult author will enjoy his vocal cameo appearances when he calmly reads definitions from a non-Earth dictionary at the start of many chapters. Another added bonus is the music between chapters that was composed specifically for this production; working with Stephenson and early drafts of the novel, David Stutz beautifully captures the complex traditional, coded choral music described therein. Moreover, the extras do not obscure the remarkable performance by William Dufris, who reads as if he knows the 900+–page text by heart. The story is told by a monastic scholar, and Dufris—with a twinkle in his proverbial eye and a sense of awe in his voice—is the perfect match. His intelligent rendering of the cast of characters is a delight for the ears. A Morrow hardcover (Reviews, July 28).

July 28, 2008
In this follow-up to his historical Baroque Cycle trilogy, which fictionalized the early-18th century scientific revolution, Stephenson (Cryptonomicon
) conjures a far-future Earth-like planet, Arbre, where scientists, philosophers and mathematicians—a religious order unto themselves—have been cloistered behind “concent” (convent) walls. Their role is to nurture all knowledge while safeguarding it from the vagaries of the irrational “saecular” outside world. Among the monastic scholars is 19-year-old Raz, “collected” into the concent at age eight and now a decenarian, or “tenner” (someone allowed contact with the world beyond the stronghold walls only once a decade). But millennia-old rules are cataclysmically shattered when extraterrestrial catastrophe looms, and Raz and his teenage companions—engaging in intense intellectual debate one moment, wrestling like rambunctious adolescents the next—are summoned to save the world. Stephenson's expansive storytelling echoes Walter Miller's classic A Canticle for Leibowitz
, the space operas of Larry Niven and the cultural meditations Douglas Hofstadter—a heady mix of antecedents that makes for long stretches of dazzling entertainment occasionally interrupted by pages of numbing colloquy. An accompanying CD of music composed by David Stutz is suitably ethereal.