I’ve joined Goodreads.com, where the idea is to rate and review books you have read. When they are relevant to this blog, I’ll post my reviews here as well. This review is about The White Mountains, by John Christopher.
I used to love teaching The White Mountains to middle-schoolers — it was actually at my personal behest that the principal signed off on the book order!
TWM is the first book of John Christopher’s epic saga that pits puny humans against overwhelmingly powerful machines (it’s anyone’s guess whether or not something biological lives inside a Tripod). The Tripods — mysterious overlords of the earth — exert their ambiguously benevolent authority over humankind by means of mind-controlling devices called “caps.” These mesh contraptions are fitted to the shaved scalps of boys and girls in their early teens, and become all but unnoticeable once the recipient’s hair grows back.
The choice facing a young person who has not yet been fitted with a “cap” is simple and profound: comfortable slavery under the mechanical overlords, or painful freedom in the harsh wilderness.
If this sounds similar to The Matrix, it is — only it was published more than two decades before that movie hit the theaters, and is unburdened by sensual cyberpunk motifs.
The hero of the story is Will Parker, an un-capped young man of thirteen. He hopes to retain his individuality by fleeing his village and joining a mountain community of free-thinking rebels. Will is accompanied by two other boys more or less like himself, and on their perilous journey the young men meet a colorful assortment of supporting characters. All are well-drawn, and the interactions have the ring of authenticity.
Poignant, compelling, and action-packed, TWM is the kind of adventure that will appeal even to a boy who is generally averse to reading. Truly, you’d be hard pressed to find one better.
If you want to fault the author for “ripping off” the idea of the Tripods from H.G. Wells, Christopher himself has beat you to the punch. In his Preface to the Anniversary Edition, he transparently and with considerable embarrassment explains that although he “stole” the idea from Wells, it was done in good faith — in his words, “An almost incredible example of amnesia...”
It is well worth forgiving the oversight, for the story gets even better with the subsequent installments — which is really saying something.
TWM is the first book of John Christopher’s epic saga that pits puny humans against overwhelmingly powerful machines (it’s anyone’s guess whether or not something biological lives inside a Tripod). The Tripods — mysterious overlords of the earth — exert their ambiguously benevolent authority over humankind by means of mind-controlling devices called “caps.” These mesh contraptions are fitted to the shaved scalps of boys and girls in their early teens, and become all but unnoticeable once the recipient’s hair grows back.
The choice facing a young person who has not yet been fitted with a “cap” is simple and profound: comfortable slavery under the mechanical overlords, or painful freedom in the harsh wilderness.
If this sounds similar to The Matrix, it is — only it was published more than two decades before that movie hit the theaters, and is unburdened by sensual cyberpunk motifs.
The hero of the story is Will Parker, an un-capped young man of thirteen. He hopes to retain his individuality by fleeing his village and joining a mountain community of free-thinking rebels. Will is accompanied by two other boys more or less like himself, and on their perilous journey the young men meet a colorful assortment of supporting characters. All are well-drawn, and the interactions have the ring of authenticity.
Poignant, compelling, and action-packed, TWM is the kind of adventure that will appeal even to a boy who is generally averse to reading. Truly, you’d be hard pressed to find one better.
If you want to fault the author for “ripping off” the idea of the Tripods from H.G. Wells, Christopher himself has beat you to the punch. In his Preface to the Anniversary Edition, he transparently and with considerable embarrassment explains that although he “stole” the idea from Wells, it was done in good faith — in his words, “An almost incredible example of amnesia...”
It is well worth forgiving the oversight, for the story gets even better with the subsequent installments — which is really saying something.
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