What if, in a world where mathematics could be magic, the thing you desired most was also trying to kill you? Dom is a numerate, someone able to see and control numbers and use them as a form of magic. While seeking a mathematical item of immense power that has only been whispered about, it all goes south for Dom, and he finds himself on the run across three countries on two continents, with two unlikely companions in tow and a numerate of unfathomable strength hot on his tail. Along the way are giant creatures of stone and earth, statues come alive, numerical wonders cast over hundreds of years, and the very real possibility that he won't make it out of this alive. And both of his companions have secrets so deep that even they aren't aware of them, and one of those secrets could make for a seismic shift in how Dom and all other numerates see and interact with the world.
Derryl Murphy lives with his wife, boys and dog in Saskatoon, where he is deeply involved in a life of soccer and writing. His short fiction has appeared in magazines and anthologies since his first sale in the early '90s. His first book, the collection of eco-SF Wasps at the Speed of Sound, was released by Prime Books in 2005, and in 2009 Cast a Cold Eye, a novella co-written with William Shunn, was released by PS Publishing.
Napier's Bones has just been nominated for Best Novel for the Aurora Award. For more information and for information on how to vote for Napier's Bones, please see http://www.prixaurorawards.ca/
Derryl has been nominated for the Canada's Aurora Award for an SF review column he wrote for The Edmonton Journal, for his short story "Body Solar," and for "Mayfly," a short story he co-wrote with Peter Watts.
Once upon a time Derryl was a photojournalist, but staking out murder sites to get a lousy picture was not the career he envisioned.
Do you ever feel like you have let down a book, not the other way around? That if you had been smarter, funnier, prettier, then the book wouldn’t have broken up with you by text message and started dating your friend, who really isn’t all that much prettier than you and has terrible taste in clothing and music and restaurants anyway? No? Just me? OK. I kind of feel that way about Napier’s Bones.
I first heard of this book from a “Big Idea” piece on John Scalzi’s blog. It sounded amazing: mathematics as magic! People, called numerates, who can see and manipulate numbers. I had a coworker this summer who has a form of synesthesia where numbers move around for her, and I was really curious about this phenomenon. Derryl Murphy’s concept reminds me of that, and of course as a mathematician myself, I’m fascinated by the idea of being able to manipulate numbers in a very real way. So I was excited for this novel and bought it new a few months later.
Alas, this is one of those times when the premise is far superior to the execution.
For the first few chapters, this is an OK book. Indeed, my mathematical interests had me positively tingling as I read about Dom’s acquisition of an adjunct, the shade Billy, and his newly-minted status as a fugitive from a shadowy opponent. It was an in media res opening that promised Murphy would keep the action going right until the last page. For the most part, he delivers on this promise, which is one reason I decided to go with two stars instead of one. I have many criticisms of Napier’s Bones, but “dull” is not one of them.
The cracks are tiny but appear early. Murphy loves his exposition, and although Jenna is by no means a minor character, her primary role for the first half of the novel is as a listener to Dom’s Mr. Exposition-pants (TVTropes). The action/travel sequences are really just what happens in between the lengthy conversations in which Dom explains how numbers behave, how numerates manipulate them, how mojo enters into the equation, etc. Jenna nods and smiles. It’s the most unsatisfactory way to explore a mythology and a magical system; I wish Murphy had put as much effort into unfolding his universe as he did constructing it in the first place.
The real trouble begins about halfway through, when Jenna and Dom get rescued from near-certain death by a mysterious, defrocked priest who introduces himself as Father Thomas. It turns out that John Napier is back from the dead, has possessed someone important to Dom or Jenna, and is after some of his old artifacts in a quest for ultimate power. Fair enough. I mean, his name is in the title, so I was expecting Napier to show up—in body or in spirit—at some point, and I was pretty sure Napier’s actual bones would be an important part of the story. I have no problems with this. Once again, however, I take issue with how Murphy communicates all this information. (And I could have done without being told, almost every time his name comes up, that Napier invented logarithms. I get it.)
Father Thomas explains why it is so important for Dom and Jenna to hop on a flight he has booked them to Scotland. And then we never see Father Thomas again.
When you introduce a character for a single chapter whose only purpose is to provide major exposition and a plane ticket, you are doing something wrong.
So Dom and Jenna hop the pond to Scotland, where they gallivant across the countryside, searching for several important artifacts. They meet another ally in their quest, in the form of intelligent numbers who collectively choose to call themselves “Arithmos”. I wish I were making this up. When the talking numbers enter the story is where I draw the line and where Napier’s Bones goes from slightly flawed to outright bad. Murphy’s interesting idea about numbers being a form of magic degenerates into a messy equivocation of magic and quantum mechanics. With each chapter, he introduces new rules—and exposition to go along with those rules—and more conditions for victory (or failure) on the part of Dom and Jenna. I dislike it when magical systems don’t feel consistent but instead appear to change based on the needs of plot.
Speaking of which, the ending itself is somewhat of a literal deus ex machina, at least as far as I can tell. By the time we got that point, I was not so interested in the story any more. The plot had become hard to follow, and my emotional connection to Dom and Jenna was tenuous. This is probably the dealbreaker, in my book, even though it is the most subjective part of the relationship between reader and story. I can handle oppressive levels of exposition and poorly-constructed systems of magic. But ultimately a story is about the reader connecting to a character (or characters), and that did not happen here.
Napier’s Bones is just a mess. Its narrative is jumbled, chaotic, and confusing. Its themes are feeble and spread thinly across a book that is longer than it needs to be and still feels far too short. The “magical system” that underlies the story is unsatisfactory and, worse, feels completely arbitrary. The characters start off as interesting and actually become less well-defined as the story progresses. For all of these reasons, I had a difficult time feeling anything more than ambivalence toward this book.
Is it me? Did I do something wrong, Napier’s Bones? Am I too mathy for you—was that voice in my head going, “This isn’t why mathematics is magical!” too loud? Did I say the wrong thing in front of your parents on that one Saturday night when I was tired from a long day at work and they dropped by, despite the fact I told you to tell them Saturdays weren’t good for me, and I would prefer that they give us advanced warning so I could at least tidy up the place, because it’s not like you ever bother to do it? Just … give me a sign, please. I can change.
Maybe it’s better if I just see some other books for a while, you some other readers. We can get some perspective. A lot of perspective.
For me, reading Napier’s Bones was very much like reading a book in Slovenian or Spanish – I understood most of it if I read slowly enough, but those big words I didn’t understand were the most important ones for the story. Except that a dictionary wouldn’t be nearly enough in this case. A degree in math would.
I have to admit that this was a fantastic idea, but it was poorly executed. The end result is a very confusing and incomplete worldbuilding that led to many passages like: Dom stood on the chair and wove some numbers around the smoke alarm so that it wouldn’t go off, then pulled some more numbers and formulae into a ball and raced it around the room, chasing the remaining fragments of smoke and scooping them up like Pac-Man trying to get a cheap high.”
Or even worse:
He wasn’t being harassed anymore, so he waved a hand and stopped the flow, let the numbers begin their journey back up and into the numerical ecology. Some sprang into the air with great energy, others were more sluggish, skittering or even just crawling along the pavement of the alley before finally finding enough juice to push themselves back into the air.
The problem with building a world around something like math is that you have to be very careful how you do it. As far as I could see, Murphy mostly just threw in random mathematical terms and then used math itself like some kind of magic wand. I don’t understand math very well and I have no problems admitting it , but something didn’t add up here. That much was obvious even to me.
Another thing I had a huge problem with was the 3rd person narrative. Dom is a numerate, he sees numbers everywhere and he is able to control them up to a point. He has no formal education, meaning he’s not a mathematician at all, but he understands math in a way a normal person can’t. He’s very good at what he does – in fact, he’s quite convinced that he is the best. That’s why he is stunned by his failure to acquire the artifact all numerates want: the one containing Napier’s mojo. Instead of getting his hands on something that belonged to the most powerful mathematician and numerate, Dom ends up with an adjunct, a shadow, a separate consciousness sharing his body. Billy, the adjunct, becomes an equal partner: he is just as much in control of Dom’s body as Dom himself. That’s exactly why 3rd person narrative made a mess of things. This should have been Dom’s story or Billy’s story, told in 1st person. At least that way every pronoun wouldn’t have been a torture. After every ‘he said’, ‘he did’ I had to go back half a page to make sure which ‘he’ did something completely ordinary, like scratch their shared head. I never knew who the author was referring to and it was a nightmare. Derryl Murphy probably knows a lot about math, but communicative competence is not one of his strong points.
Because of the whole adjunct situation, the dialogues between Dom and Billy were also very weird. It was easy enough to forget that the two of them were using the same mouth to talk to each other (with different accents), but once I allowed myself to think about how ridiculous something like that would look, nothing they said was important at all.
Napier’s Bones has some great moments, it is fast paced and I really had fun when I wasn’t busy rolling my eyes. I think some of my friends will like it far more than I did.
I liked the book but I am torn by the depiction of magic. In the book, magic is displayed and controlled by numbers, and that is an original-enough idea to catch my attention, but the concept never seemed fully worked out. Consider: many great historic mathematicians were also magicians, but so were Shakespeare and William Blake. The main character 'saw' numbers and used prime numbers frequently but specified that he had no special mathematical training. The numbers seemed to threaten in the way a rainstorm threatens; a stream of numbers crashed into a car and crushed it.
Until the end, where a specific form of math and physics is required, we could really just be talking about 'The Force'.
Again, I liked the book and the imagery but the concept was overused - numbers everywhere- but underutilized - no math nor understanding of Fibinacci or Pi is involved.
I guess it could be a selling point that the reader doesn't have to do math themselves to enjoy the book.
On the whole, I liked the story. It's fast-paced and full of action. This leaves the characters with little time to reveal themselves, but also avoids any risk of listening to them whine. It's a straightforward adventure, nothing more, so I won't be to harsh with it but I have to say that I usually prefer stories that focus on the characters and their interactions. The use of the 3rd person doesn't help at all. It made everything seem more distant; this is especially true during the first half of the book making it difficult to get into the story.
The magic system was the part with which I had the biggest problem. It reminded me of John Levitt's Dog Days in that it is too vague. We're thrown into this world where some people can bend numbers to their will but we're not given clear rules about can and cannot be done with them. Instead, from the start we get to see Dom going from situation to situation using numbers, always in a different way with his imagination as the only discernible limit of what he can do. That or someone more powerful interfering, but nothing more. This makes it even harder to connect to the story. It's not that you don't know what the hero will do, but that you don't even know what he can do. This proves to be true in the second half where anything is possible.
The math jokes/references are funny for those of us who grew up laughing at that type of jokes (read: math/physics/engineering nerds) and might make it worth reading, but I'm sure they'll fly right over everyone else's head taking down a notch the humor potential.
So, is it worth it? *shrugs* I wouldn't go out of my way to read it, but it's not terrible either. Enjoyable but forgettable.
Enjoyable novel about a world much like ours but in which some people, aka numerates, can manipulate numbers to their advantage. One such numerate Dom, is searching for a mathematical treasure in the desert when he's attacked.
After regaining consciousness he discovers another being inside him and the story turns into a road trip with Dom, his "passenger," and a young woman traveling across Canada to prevent a very powerful, very nasty numerate from dominating the world.
With NAPIER'S BONES, Derryl Murphy has managed a truly impressive feat. In one stroke he has created a work of literature which is both tremendously exhilarating in its originality and bitterly disappointing in the execution.
For the former, Murphy has created a completely original fictitious world requiring his readers to put aside all preconceptions and to simply dive in and immerse themselves, unquestionably, in Murphy's constructs. For the first two thirds of the book, the reader will be well rewarded for doing so as NAPIER'S BONES is a rare gem of a uniquely quirky thriller.
To describe the plot in all but the simplest of terms would not do the book justice. Suffice it to say that Murphy's world is one of animate numbers and the rare human beings who are "numerates" and who can manipulate those numbers to achieve magical results. It's a weird conceit, but an effective one once the reader stops trying to figure out what is going on and simply takes the plunge.
The challenges when writing a book like this, however, are many. In particular, one must create and maintain the fictional universe in a cohesive manner. One also needs to prevent the literary concept from overwhelming the characters and the plot. And of course, one must abstain from becoming precious, and from inserting concepts, plot twists and character reveals that have no other reason for inclusion but that the author thought they were "cool" ideas. Sadly, NAPIER'S BONES does not seem able to sustain its initial momentum and, in the end, it fails in these areas.
Taking these criticisms in no particular order, Murphy's concept is innovative enough without the necessity of adding additional layers to transform it from being inspired and fascinating to overdone, confusing and ridiculous. An author can only demand so much of a reader's willingness to suspend reality and enter into the fictional world; if he pushes his readers TOO hard, he loses them. The mysterious properties, behaviors and, yes, even personalities, of the various numbers are both fascinating and, in a strange way, almost charming. And yes, I am speaking of literal numbers here. The book's concept is THAT bizarre -- in a good way.
But when, roughly two thirds of the way through the book, Murphy adds giant cobblers rising from the Scottish hills to the mix, the reader's credulity is strained. The cleverness of certain of his characters purporting to be Archimedes and Napier and other famous mathematicians becomes contrived and heavy-handed when Murphy adds William Blake, references to Shakespeare and other too-studiously clever names and characters to the mix. It is at this point when NAPIER'S BONES begins to cross the line from the innovative into the silly and trite.
One might forgive the author's "running out of steam", as it were. One is certainly tempted to do so as the majority of the first part of the book is simply THAT good. But as the literary non sequiturs begin to pile up, including time travel, repeated violations of already-established conventions in this fictional world for the convenience of the meager plot, diversions from the main thrust of the story by the inclusion of short scenes which add nothing, silliness such as the sudden appearance of angels and those bizarre Scottish cobblers, the seams of the novel begin to show.
Once that happens, it's all over. One realizes that Murphy's book, as brilliant as it is -- and it IS, indeed, brilliant in places -- is the proverbial "sound and fury". If the reader takes a step back from immersion in the wonderful world that Murphy has created, s/he may realize that the plot makes little sense and elicits little to no emotional investment on the part of the reader. The characters, such as they are, are interesting more for their abilities than their personalities. Once again, Murphy's literary momentum is so skillfully done that one finishes reading the majority of the book before one realizes that the piece is mostly style with little substance, bland characters, and a plot which seems naught but a contrivance to justify the author's writing about this marvelous fictitious world he's created.
In short, NAPIER'S BONES is a troubling and disappointing contradiction. It's unquestionably a brilliant book while at the same time being a not very good book. It is fascinating and will engage the reader's mind, but will leave him or her emotionally unaffected. It will stimulate intellectual curiosity but not maintain much interest in the characters or what happens to them.
Is the book worth a read? Unquestionably, the answer is yes. There is some truly inspired and creative stuff going on in NAPIER'S BONES. At its best there is a subtle electricity running through it; one has the excited feeling while reading it that one is partaking of something truly special. But don't expect any lasting impact from the story or the characters. In many ways, reading NAPIER'S BONES is like viewing the grade school work of a budding Picasso -- there may be a ton of potential for genius but, for the moment, one is looking only at some nicely smeared paint.
In sum, and not without reservations, I can recommend this book -- especially if you are looking for something highly unusual and "off the beaten path."
Napier's Bones is a very entertaining mix of sf and UF; the structure is all UF (evil being with superpowers, awakened in our day and time wants to take over and change all, good guys have to stop it but to start they are too puny, so there are chases, hidden powers, unexpected allies and all the paraphernalia of traditional fantasy set in our world and time) but the content is all sfnal since the conceit of the novel is numbers as magic and there is a lot of real fun numerology - I have no idea if the author has read Martin Gardner's ultra-entertaining essays on numerology but the stuff in the novel is as good as anything there and the book is worth reading if only for that.
The characters are ok though nothing outside stock and some of the major twists are easily seen but the writing flows well, the pages turn by themselves and the book is a very entertaining reading experience with a great ending. Another recommended book - and a positive surprise for 2011 - and as usual I will add the full FBC review later in March closer to the publication date.
Here is the full FBC Review:
INTRODUCTION: Napier's Bones is a novel that attracted my attention for two reasons: first as being published by Chi-Zine which so far never put a book out that "felt for me" and disappointed; second the blurb is irresistible for someone who grew up with Martin Gardner's superb popular math books as huge favorites, including the irresistible Dr. Matrix, numerologist of world fame whose exploits were always fun to read, not to speak of making one wonder at the human ingenuity in finding the most abstruse patterns everywhere.
"What if, in a world where mathematics could be magic, the thing you desired most was also trying to kill you?
Dom is a numerate, someone able to see and control numbers and use them as a form of magic. While seeking a mathematical item of immense power that has only been whispered about, it all goes south for Dom, and he finds himself on the run across three countries on two continents, with two unlikely companions in tow and a numerate of unfathomable strength hot on his tail. Along the way are giant creatures of stone and earth, statues come alive, numerical wonders cast over hundreds of years, and the very real possibility that he won't make it out of this alive. And both of his companions have secrets so deep that even they aren't aware of them, and one of those secrets could make for a seismic shift in how Dom and all other numerates see and interact with the world."
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: "Napier's Bones" is a very entertaining and fast moving read set in a world in which numerology is power at least for the people who can sense and manipulate numbers and their patterns; the more unusual the patterns and artifacts associated with them, the more power they give to the "numerates" that possess them. And of course nothing is more powerful than the original title artifacts who have been lost in the midst of time after the assumed death of their creator, the Scottish mathematician John Napier of the logarithm fame.
The novel starts explosively with a numerical battle in the Utah desert, where our main character, a powerful but relatively young numerate of many identities, generally known as Dom, is caught in the aftermath of a duel between unknown numerates of extreme power. This first page paragraph gives a good idea of how the book goes and of course it made me read the book on the spot since having logarithms flying through the air is contemporary magic I can believe in:
"There was a rustling sound from overhead, and he looked up to see a series of logarithms flapping by like wiry bats, dipping and diving through the air before breaking up into their constituent numbers and, with nothing left to hold them together, quickly fading away."
Knocked unconscious by the ripples of the number battle, Dom awakes himself on a bus and with a shadow - a ghost or "psychic essence" of a powerful numerate of long ago who lives inside the head of other numerates, usually in peaceful cohabitation. Here is the ghost "Billy" explaining:
“We didn’t. A duel was the last thing we wanted; her numbers and formulae were far beyond anything my host had ever seen before.” “So what happened?” asked Dom, afraid he already knew the answer. “My host was killed, while our foe was seemingly incapacitated. My host’s last act,” here the voice broke, “was to cut me loose. I had not quite a twenty-three second window before I would have fractioned, and I knew where you were.”
Arriving in a town in the middle of nowhere and entering a grocery store to get some food, Dom and Billy meet Jenna, a young student that works there and who is also a numerate without knowing it - here Jenna introduces herself to Dom by talking about the ghost - aka Billy - she perceives following him:
“It’s like a blurry shadow, hard to tell exactly what it is,” she said. “But I see it slide in and out of you, and I can see even from a distance when it’s the one doing the talking.”
And this is how it starts, with the destroyer of Billy's former host in hot pursuit, Dom, Jenna and Billy scrambling to get away, meeting mysterious benefactors and of course finding out what's what and what they need to do to save the world.
Since after all the novel is conventional Urban Fantasy formula in structure - evil being with superpowers, awakened in our day and time wants to take over and change all, good guys have to stop it but to start they are too "puny", so there are chases, hidden powers, unexpected allies and all the paraphernalia of traditional fantasy set in our world and time - but the content made it really worth and the author has a flowing style that kept the pages turning.
The numerological stuff in the novel is as good as anything I've read and the action is fast and furious with no let-up till the powerful climax. The character roles are the expected ones, but with enough specific traits to make them distinctive - even if still relatively stock - and some of the major twists are easily seen but the writing flows well, the pages turn by themselves and the book is a very entertaining reading experience with a great ending.
I think that if you are a math aficionado or a fan of Urban Fantasy that goes beyond vampires and zombies, you have to try Napier Bones (A+ for superb content and very good execution) since the author makes the premise work with brio. While the book is a standalone with a definite ending, there is a lot of scope for more in the intriguing numerological universe of Derryl Murphy and I would be quite interested in such.
I always thought there was something a little sinister, kind of eldritch, about mathematics- I guess we fear what we don’t understand. So “Napier’s Bones,” which posits a world in which “numerates” are able, through some ill defined ability, to see and harness and the power of numbers to accomplish some very odd things, had an intriguing premise.
In "Napier's Bones," we are thrown right into the thick of the action as Dom, a low rent numerate willing to stoop to just about anything for a little mojo, finds himself with a new "adjunct" (the soul of a dead numerate) possessing him, Jenna, a young new numerate looking to him for guidance, and a super powerful numerate looking to destroy him. Like Dom, Jenna, and Billy, it is up in the air as to why any of this is happening. All we know is this has something to do with the legacy of John Napier, the Scottish inventor of logarithms and numeracy itself. As the odd trio roadtrips around the North American west, we find out more about the world of mathematical magic and a lot of interesting ideas are posited (Edmonton, for instance, is a safe zone for numerates since all of its streets use numbers), but I found myself a little lost a lot of the time, and not just because I'm terrible at math.
Characters appear and disappear, themes are mentioned and dropped quickly, and, particularly in later in the book, things happen and artifacts are discovered with little explanation as to how they relate to the plot. In the end, a lot of entertaining ideas thrown together with little cohesion, but it was still a quick, fun urban fantasy that explore some unique areas.
Every once in a while, you find a book that confuses you yet utterly dazzles you at the same time. Napier's Bones is that book for me. I really think the confusion for me was all things mathematics-related. To put it nicely, I will never be a mathlete - ever. Any word related to math boggles my mind. ;)
Other than that, this book was amazing. It was easy to get into and well-written. The characters felt a little more like stock characters than extraordinarily unique ones, but they were developed well and each had their own voice that set them apart from others.
The action is non-stop and doesn't let up at all throughout the story. You never get confused or left behind because everything is explained well, although sometimes the explanations are a little long-winded. Overall, this was a great read, fast-paced with an explosive beginning and equally entertaining reading. There's the definite feel of an Urban Fantasy read to it, but other than that it is like nothing that I've ever read before. It's a book to add to your TBR lists, for sure.
A book where numbers are magic?! It's the ultimate book for math geeks! This story is so cool (says the accountant-in-training). I couldn't rewrite the summary because it encompassed everything beautifully. It did leave a few details out. Dom is accompanied by Billy, the adjunct (a ghost that lives inside his mind and can speak and control his body), and Jenna, a fellow numerate who is just learning to control the numbers.
Billy was such an interesting character. I loved the idea of him being an adjunct, living symbiotically within Dom. I didn't quite understand how adjuncts come to be, but it didn't take away from my enjoyment of the story. Dom was a good guy. Looking to do right while keeping safe. He was sweet and helpful with Jenna, who didn't understand her powers yet.
I can't fully express how unusual and unique this story is. It was so interesting, I flew through it. I would love to jump back into the world of numerates again. This is definitely a book to check out.
I think it's best to approach this novel as if it was a less-funny Christopher Moore. There is SO much invention going on here that it's pointless trying to look for any logic (even within the context of the world Murphy has created).
Had I not been expecting more I'd probably have a bit happier with the overall result.
Amazing world-building. Unobtrusively but uniquely Canadian. Would love to read more set in the same world. The only quibble I had was that I felt like I was reading it despite the characters rather than because of them. I wanted to know more about Arithmos and his kind, but was indifferent to Dom and Jenna.
Not the kind of fiction I usually read, but I was captivated by this imaginative work of fantasy by Saskatoon's own Derryl Murphy. Couldn't put it down.
Sadly this isn't a very good book. Since I'm a physicist I thought the idea of doing magic with numbers sounded interesting, but I found otherwise and had to struggle to finish the last few chapters.
The book feels like a cut price thriller. There's an impossibly powerful baddy, our plucky hero and his love interest, and they race around first the USA then Scotland in search of mystical artefacts to fight the bad guy. The magic consists of random mathematical terms that are thrown around in an incoherent way that sounds mystical but is actually meaningless. Plot devices are introduced arbitrarily and succeed only in making the plot even more incoherent.
It isn't often I say this about a book, but I cannot recommend this book to anyone.
what an interesting concept. Not your usual magic and spells. The story moves at fast pace and unlike anything I have read. Did not know what to expect beyond triumph of good over evil. I was wrong in guessing who Billy was (but my guess did figure into the story) and I thought the main character might also have a historical referent but this was not the case. If you are looking for action with a different twist, you might like this one. This was my first book by Murphy, I want to read more of his work.
What began as a fascinating premise becomes sillier with every passing chapter. I get it. Numbers are alive and they enter and exit bodies like bees in a hive. Try telling this story orally to a varied group of people all afternoon. How many would stay? Not the kids, not the old people, not the women, that leaves the hardcore math nerds. This didn't impress me at all.
Very good. An interesting concept, and a good story that moved along well, but not so fast it was confusing. The ending felt just a tad abrupt, but maybe that was because I wanted to know more about the final changes.
The story was good, the math was weak. The writing unsatisfying. Feels like it was written with a movie in mind. Could have been so much better, but I had to read to the end.
Imagine being able to manipulate numbers to do magic, just as so many fictional wizards manipulate words, as spells, to accomplish their ends. Imagine seeing everything as a number, with formulae streaming into the air from every physical thing, allowing you to bend and change them — using your abilities to smear a license plate into a new number, say, or blurring the serial numbers on dollar bills. It gives new meaning to the word “numerate.”
Derryl Murphy’s protagonist in Napier’s Bones is a numerate. As the novel opens, Dom is seeking an artifact of mathematical power when the numbers throw him far away, onto a bus in a city distant from his search. More than that, he has somehow picked up an adjunct; that is, residing in his body with him is the mind and soul of Billy, another numerate whose physical body died an unknown time ago. Billy remembers little of his past, but he knows that he and Dom are in danger from whatever entity threw them away from the artifact. As the two become acquainted, a young woman, Jenna, joins them at a large park where they are resting in the grass, claiming to be able to “see” Billy as a type of shadow. She can definitely hear the difference in Dom’s voice when Billy is using it; Billy has an English accent. The three are attacked by a series of “search numbers,” and begin a flight that takes them a continent, and ultimately a couple of realities, away.
It’s an interesting conceit, but Murphy doesn’t develop the phenomenon of numeracy as fully as he might. He does not explain how it works, that is, where the numbers come from and how they can be manipulated; he just posits that it is so. It does not appear that those who can manipulate the numbers have any special ability at mathematics of any sort — this isn’t a talent you can develop by becoming highly proficient at arithmetic, geometry or any other discipline, but is an inborn trait.
As the trio travels from place to place, obtaining useful artifacts with interesting relationships to numbers (wiring from Apollo 13, for instance, carries substantial “mojo” because the rocket lifted off on the 13th of the month at 1313 hours; Dom explains that “Coincidences like that create a rush of numbers that push their way in, forcing out the bland, everyday number that make up the fabric of life. When they do that, there’s a dynamic that’s created, on the numerates can use to their benefit.” That’s about as much of an explanation as we ever get, and numeracy remains a mystery.
Why John Napier is trying to catch up to them and destroy them, as they eventually figure out, is another mystery that is never resolved. Napier is an historical figure who does not seem to have been evil, as portrayed in this book, though he was thought to have dabbled in necromancy and alchemy. He makes a good foil for the protagonist even if he is never explained, and the novel quickly becomes a fast, action-packed chase story rather than one that explores the magic system that sets the chase in motion.
The ending is a serious letdown from all the action, as things come together too quickly and a couple of deus ex machinas appear to aid the hardy trio of good guys. I was dismayed, for instance, to find out the identity of the Billy persona; there are no real clues to it in what went before. Nor is there any real explanation for Jenna’s sudden facility with quantum mathematics. In short, this book strikes me as a fascinating idea that is not rendered particularly well. The concept of numeracy is so interesting that I kept reading the book even though I grew progressively more unhappy with Murphy’s failure to make more of it.
Math is the language of the universe. A bold statement, but a true one. Dialects and language barriers divide our world into smaller and smaller pieces, but mathematics remains a universal constant—a reality we can use to define one another and the means by which our world and all worlds exist, rather than the verisimilitude faith and social artifices provide. Mathematical rules—numbers and nigh-unfathomable calculations, to be more precise—are the heart of Derryl Murphy’s upcoming supernatural thriller from ChiZine Publications. Most interestingly, Napier’s Bones posits a question that gives credence to the axiom that math is indeed the backbone of our universe by looking at the numbers that surround us—those we see and those we don’t—through the guise of the fantastic that the perceived rigidity of mathematics seeks to undermine: What if math could be magic?
Able to manipulate numbers as if they were magical tools and spells, Dom, a numerate, is seeking an item of unfathomable strength—a mathematically imbued treasure of such power that if it were to fall into the wrong hands, could change the world. Together with Jenna, a fledgling numerate still discovering her abilities, and Billy, the long-dead, disembodied voice of a former numerate inhabiting Dom’s mind and body, the trio must cross country and continent to track down the item, all while eluding a mysterious numerate of almost mythic strength.
Napier’s Bones is something of an original beast—a melding of historical, cultural, mystical, and mathematical conceits that comfortably co-exist in Murphy’s vision of our world, a world ignorant of the hard science at the core of everything, even those elements seemingly supernatural or mystical in origin. The pacing is tight throughout; the book reads with the speed and buoyancy of a pulp novel that has been paired with logarithms, numerical swarms of oncoming death, and stone giants from ages past, yet it all comes together as a complete—and sometimes descriptively sparse—narrative.
Near the middle of the book, the sense of magic and impossibility begins to impose on the mathematical rules of the world, as the numbers begin to feel more and more as if they are a part of the very atmosphere, seeping out from the pores of the earth, rather than continuing to have something of a grounding in reality. As a result, what started out as a work that tread the lines between the axiom and fantasy lost a little of the charmingly obsessive detail it first presented the reader with. However, this is a small, niggling thing that barely scrapes away any of the original paint on a model that is altogether unique.
With Napier’s Bones, Derryl Murphy has given readers a new toy box to play in, one with a set of rules so widely accepted and understood that, regardless of the fantastical nature of the narrative and characters, our feet remain firmly on the ground. That, and an ending that screams out for a sequel of mathematically mind-numbing complexity, is a surprising and all too rare treat.
I was skeptical about reading this book. The blurb about it advertised math as some sort of positive thing, a math mystery. I am the complete opposite of math-illogical, unreasonable and I have serious trouble with anything involving numbers. I often confuse phone numbers, birth days and I am one of a handful of women who occasionally forget their own anniversary (the 3rd or the 4th).
But, I love mysteries so I forged ahead.
I should have listened to my first instinct.
The initial part of the book involves a young man named Dom who can control numbers as it they are some sort of magic surrounding him, surrounding all of us. And, I love the concept! How unique. But, I just couldn’t see it. I couldn’t visualize these patterns and numbers the author kept referring to.
Dom is on the hunt for a mystical historical object (which is not clearly described until the latter part of the book) and he is being hunted by some sort of mystical creature that wants said object. Along the way, Dom is aided by a spirit of some great math renown and a girl who has an untamed math magical potential. They are later helped by giant creatures of the earth, ancient beings created by numbers.
If that description has your head reeling, don’t even attempt to read this book. If you were doing advanced algebraic problems in your head waiting for me to get to the point, buy the book now!
While I did struggle with some of the concepts in the book, I was very intrigued by the idea of John Napier and Napier ’s bones and the adventure of capturing such a piece of mystical history. It did have me running to the computer to do some research. That part of the book, the last half, was an adventure I enjoyed very much. If I were a math-lete, this book would have held some magic for me. Overall, though, it made me want to skip entire paragraphs just to get to the action.
I would like to read another book by this author, though. His mythological ideas were unique and interesting enough to cause me to come back for more. The ideas of reincarnation and mystical objects from our real history that has power to influence us today--these were my very favorite parts of the book.
In short, know thyself. If you have a math brain (weirdo!), then this is probably just the book for you. If you have a literary brain, the mystery and fantasy probably won’t be enough to make this a wholly satisfying read.
If you are one of those unique indviduals who are both math- and book- inclined, this will be your heaven on earth!
Even though I met and chatted with the author at the October Harvest Con in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada, I wasn't prepared for what I found when I read Napier's Bones. One of the best novels I've read in years of any genre, this lean and muscular book reads like a combination of the Da Vinci Code and Harry Potter...much more imaginative than the former and much more intellectual and adult than the latter. It's a wonder-filled cinematic (and I used this with emphasis) fantasy for adults. As I read the first few chapters with surprise and utter delight, I wrote to Derryl..."numerate as hero...how COOL!" It totally jives with the pulse of current pop culture...it's Sheldon and Leonard of BBT on super-hero steroids. I particularly love the fact that a woman saves the universe, and that she represents the new math, that quantum physics communes with her when it's resisted the male protagonists. There's enough human subplot and minor character development to keep the numbers from crunching and crushing the human interest (something that could have easily eventually dulled reader emotional connection). As I foreshadowed earlier, this book MUST be a movie--from its early pages, cinema screamed through my imagination's eye: numbers seen blowing in the wind, oozing up from the pavement and eventually forming entities and, what...conversing with our hero? (Hey, you were warned there were spoilers!) I truly hope that this fresh look at history, of the world of physics and mathematics, of the ancient and ever-present struggle between good and evil that never gets old in literature gets what it, and its author, deserves: Awards, tons of sales, reprints, kudos, and a FILM MADE of it. And hopefully, more Dom and Jenna in a sequel...?? Seriously. I love these two. And I love this incredibly imaginative conceit, that unlike many others, doesn't fall apart halfway through its spinning, but shocks and delights anew at the end of each chapter, getting stronger and stronger, until the last page. I found myself talking out loud to this book at each turn. "Are you KIDDING ME, Murphy? REALLY!?!?!?!" "SERIOUSLY?!?!!?" "That is BRILLIANT!" WOW. Wow. WOW. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Derryl Murphy, YOU are my hero. Never mind Dom. :)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This has a very interesting premise - math as magic! There's always been something magical about math and numbers to me, even if I am rather math-stupid (I barely got past algebra II in school and stopped after that). Still, this was a pretty great read, even with the creepy love triangle thrown in.
There was a bit too much focus on the math itself, but the rest was wonderful. Murphy has a talent for sensory language, though he did a lot of telling over showing for the first part of the book, which was more than a bit frustrating. But when he did finally show his characters and settings over just talking about them, he did it well.
The rest, though, was a bit of a muddle. The plot got tangled in the chase of the two mathmagicians and their familiar, and weird little romance that followed. It didn't feel like it went anywhere, other than them on the constant run. You can feel where Murphy got stuck, and that's one of my larger pet peeves in any kind of book. If you get stuck, you don't let your reader know where you got stuck. You just don't. And it kind of bogged everything down right there, made it hard to move on in terms of pacing and story from that larger weak spot. The execution could have been better, which was most disappointing of all.
I think, that with time and extra editing and maybe one more draft, this could have been far better than it turned out. Still, it was an enjoyable, if frustrating read, and I encourage anyone who likes the "math as magic" concept to give it a try. If you're not into math (or magic), this probably isn't the book for you.
(posted to goodreads, shelfari, and witchoftheatregoing.wordpress.com)
This is a REALLY fun story and a GREAT concept. I must say that at first I was really not digging the author's writing style, it seemed choppy, and everything was just explained and nothing actually seemed to be happening. It may be that the first part of the book is unedited or the author's notes or ... well not sure but it reminded me of my writing (I try to write but the result is usually bad) and I was not liking it. I read it because Cory Doctorow recommended it, and I was wondering, at the beginning, why he did, as it seemed not so polished and he being a pro. However the concept of the story was so good that I did not stop, and glad I am that I did not. After the first one third of the book, the writing totally changed (for me) and from that point on the book was fantastic. Is it magic? Numeracy? Quantum Entanglement? If I go back and reread the first part is it now different? I don't know, but the book really changes at one point there and from then on it is quite a numeric/magical roller coaster ride. I hope Mr. Murphy continues writing and I would not be sad to see more of this ... wow, what genre is this book in .... no idea how to classify it but more of whatever genre this is. Don't let the descriptions of the book and all that about math and numbers scare you away if you are not a Computer, Science, or Math person. The story is a Magical Adventure that will get your pulse up anyway. Get into it, Cory was 100% correct, this book rocks.
I hate math. My brain was not built for numbers. However, I disagree with those who say a knowledge of mathematics is required to read this book. I understood it completely and I appreciate the concept. The idea of math as magic is a very creative premise but I don't think it was executed as well as it might have been. While reading, I was always aware that I was reading. I never got lost in the story or truly engaged with the characters. From the first page, it felt like you were rushing towards the end with no time taken to explore the fascinating framework. I'm bothered by this because I think the novel might have been truly excellent with a little more work. I would definitely read more from Mr. Murphy.
Napier's Bones, by Derryl Murphy is a very original novel. In centers around Don who is a numberate. A numberate is a person that can create powerful magical effects through the control of numbers. Almost at once, three important and intense things happen to Dom. First he has a shadow of a dead numerate named Billy move into this body. Next he meets a lovely young woman named Jenna who is an untrained numberate, but of an odd sort that he has never seen. Lastly, he discovers that the long dead mathematician Napier is trying his best to slay him and perhaps use numbers to create changes in the very fabric of the planet.
I wanted to like this book far more than I did. While the concept was really fascinating, it didn't translate well for me. Perhaps because I'm not any good at math. I found most things near the end brilliant and exciting, and it was probably my favourite part of the entire book. I felt that not very much happened despite the constant action of the book. Two (and a half) strangers are thrown together in a shitty situation and have to try to defuse it. I felt like actual world-building was replaced in favour of personal anecdotes that fell short of explaining anything, really. And of course, the insta-love. I think this book could have done without romance - it was odd to find romance in the midst of such a dire situation, especially as they were virtual strangers.