![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
A little light reading.
I've just - quite possibly less than a year after buying it - begun reading Sean McMullen's Souls in the Great Machine. I bought the book mainly because I saw Sean on a panel at Torcon about writing violence which turned into a quick demonstration of how women could beat up big huge guys. Plus, he's Australian.
Anyway. The book seems, so far, to be about an ambitious young librarian preparing to take over the (post-apocalyptic-ice-age) world. She's doing this by reinventing the computer, using humans as calculating components (the eponymous souls in the great machine). The computer is being used, initially, to run Libris, the great library of which she is Highliber.
I just ran across the following passage of Rosencrantz-and-Guildenstern style commentary on the situation, which, sitting in the breakroom of my library, part of a huge library system thrown into moderate disarray by a new computer system, made me say, "Wow. Sean has worked in a library." Only not out loud, because I haven't been working in libraries quite that long. Yet.
Closter and Lermai pushed their overloaded book trolley down the long
passageway that led from the backlog store to the Cataloguing Chambers.
Normally they would have made one such trip every two months, but for
several weeks past the rate had climbed to nine trips per day. The two
elderly attendants were grimy with dust and sweat.
"Soon there'll be no backlog at all," said Lermai as Closter complained
about their workload. "Then things will ease."
"No backlog? No backlog?" retorted Closter. "What's a Cataloguing
Department without a backlog? The new Highliber has no respect for
tradition. She's just too . . . new."
"Not so new, Closter. She's been here three years."
"Three years? Hah! Her predecessor worked here ninety-five years. He
came here as a mere boy and worked his way up. Forty-one years as
Highliber! Tradition meant something under him."
They trudged on in silence for some yards; then Lermai sneezed into his
sleeve. A cloud of dust billowed out, causing Closter to sneeze in
turn.
"It's all because of that signaling machine," grumbled Closter as he
waved at the dust. "All books have to be in the main catalogue because the
machine can only find books that are catalogued. Men and women slavin'
away for a machine! Hah! The whole of Libris is turning into a
machine. And what are we?"
"Library Attendants, Class Orange, Subdivision Five--"
"No, no, dummart, we're machines, I'm meaning. Even though we're
breathing, talking, sneezing people, the Highliber's turning us into
machines."
Anyway. The book seems, so far, to be about an ambitious young librarian preparing to take over the (post-apocalyptic-ice-age) world. She's doing this by reinventing the computer, using humans as calculating components (the eponymous souls in the great machine). The computer is being used, initially, to run Libris, the great library of which she is Highliber.
I just ran across the following passage of Rosencrantz-and-Guildenstern style commentary on the situation, which, sitting in the breakroom of my library, part of a huge library system thrown into moderate disarray by a new computer system, made me say, "Wow. Sean has worked in a library." Only not out loud, because I haven't been working in libraries quite that long. Yet.
Closter and Lermai pushed their overloaded book trolley down the long
passageway that led from the backlog store to the Cataloguing Chambers.
Normally they would have made one such trip every two months, but for
several weeks past the rate had climbed to nine trips per day. The two
elderly attendants were grimy with dust and sweat.
"Soon there'll be no backlog at all," said Lermai as Closter complained
about their workload. "Then things will ease."
"No backlog? No backlog?" retorted Closter. "What's a Cataloguing
Department without a backlog? The new Highliber has no respect for
tradition. She's just too . . . new."
"Not so new, Closter. She's been here three years."
"Three years? Hah! Her predecessor worked here ninety-five years. He
came here as a mere boy and worked his way up. Forty-one years as
Highliber! Tradition meant something under him."
They trudged on in silence for some yards; then Lermai sneezed into his
sleeve. A cloud of dust billowed out, causing Closter to sneeze in
turn.
"It's all because of that signaling machine," grumbled Closter as he
waved at the dust. "All books have to be in the main catalogue because the
machine can only find books that are catalogued. Men and women slavin'
away for a machine! Hah! The whole of Libris is turning into a
machine. And what are we?"
"Library Attendants, Class Orange, Subdivision Five--"
"No, no, dummart, we're machines, I'm meaning. Even though we're
breathing, talking, sneezing people, the Highliber's turning us into
machines."