The notion of a parallel universe probably has been around since humans first set down their spears to sniff daisies and ponder the sky.
So the idea at the center of the collaboration between British fantasy masters Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter doesn't exactly smack us on the head with originality. Yet it's the execution that makes or breaks a novel, and there's a lot to like about "The Long Earth." And I also harbor some reservations.
In a near-future world, someone leaks plans for a machine that enables a person to "step" from our Earth to parallel versions almost identical but far less populated. The plans go viral, and on what comes to be known as Step Day, kids the world over rush to assemble their own step machines.
Potatoes, it must be said, power the machines.
Before long the grownups are stepping two, three or 3,000 worlds away for all the standard reasons people travel: to explore, to escape, to exploit, hide or discover.
But all along, a small, silent minority has stepped perfectly well without aid of technology. One such natural stepper is Joshua Valiente of Madison, Wis., whose mother not only stepped during Joshua's birth but died just afterwards. Joshua went on to be raised by nuns but kept his abilities secret, lest he be treated as a kind of latter-day witch.
Still, he gets noticed by Lobsang, a mysterious creature of artificial intelligence who appears in different forms, including a drink machine. Lobsang persuades a reluctant Joshua to accompany him to the farthest reaches of the Long Earth.
Pratchett, known for satirical humor and his lengthy Discworld series of fantasy novels, announced in 2007 that he'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. In a promotional video for "The Long Earth," he said he harvested the core idea for this novel from notebooks he made decades ago, before his career took off.
Perhaps now Pratchett needs to engage a writing partner, but in any case Baxter seems a natural fit. His "Xeelee Sequence" and other novels concern time and parallel universes.
The collaboration works, especially the writing. Consider a passage inside the head of a bibliophile who has found a book-lover's renaissance 10 Earths away from home:
"If Humphrey Llewellyn III could have his way, every book ever written would be treasured, at least one copy bound in sheepskin and illuminated by monks (or specifically by naked nuns, his predilections being somewhat biased in that direction). So now, he hoped, here was a chance to bring mankind back into the book-loving fold. He gloated. There was still no electronics in the pioneer worlds, was there? Where was your internet? Hah! Where was Google? Where was your mother's old Kindle? Your iPad 25? Where was Wickedpedia? (Very primly, he always called it that, just to show his disdain; very few people noticed.)"
"The Long Earth" sets up a fun sandbox of ideas, but does less well with plot. As Joshua and Lobsang travel, their talks about the meaning of it all overwhelm the action, which is too episodic and a little tepid.
A large dramatic event closes the novel, but by the time readers get there, they may be a bit too drowsy from the travels to care.
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