The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth: For the Win by Cory Doctorow

I loved Cory Doctorow's Little Brother. I loved that it was entertaining, compelling and that it taught me about a wide variety of geeky tech things I didn't know a damn thing about. I loved its honesty about scary things like government, sex and violence. I loved its moral compass. I loved its idealism. I loved the way it textured my life after I read it, how I couldn't help but think of the things I'd learned when I made a withdrawal from the bank, used Fastrak, bought Mac products.
But I loved For the Win even more.
When I was in high school and was forced in my senior year to take economics, I HATED IT. It was a close second to my least favorite subject of math (at the time statistics) which makes sense. Both disciplines require attention to detail, number crunching, formulas. Things I do not like. And my continuing near complete ignorance in regard to all things money related has come back to bite me in the butt on numerous occasions, not least of all raising its head during the entire economic meltdown, which, when asked about it I would have to say things like: "It's just bad news all around," and/or "Um yes, I guess the president should fix this... how? Oh wow, look over there!" [runs away]
So, despite what several reviewers cited as didactic passages, I loved how much I was able to learn from this book. Yes, I understand that this book is meant for teens. Yes, I know I should have known a lot of this stuff going into this book. Yes, I get that for people who already know all this, the "here's what's happening when people sell you stock" passages may feel overly didactic. But for someone totally ignorant (me!) it was great-- Doctorow makes all this stuff that made me want to stick glass in my eyes during high school totally interesting, fascinating even, and most of all cool. His comparisons are fresh, humorous and intelligent. The passage about the Coase cost utilizes light touches of neuroscience to help people like me engage, and feel clever for being able to do so.
If there's anything I cared about less than econ, it's online gaming. I'm a total nerd for some things (...I keep a blog of kids' book reviews...in my adult life) but online RPGs are just past my threshold. And by just past, I mean way past. And just like econ, Doctorow was able to pull me in, despite overwhelming prejudice. I still don't want to play the games, but I have a new found interest in the people who do, and the meta-markets they support.
Set in 4 different countries, with an epic cast of characters, Doctorow puts a face to globalization in a way that is undeniably cool, without glorifying the characters--there's a great moment of self-awareness when one of the 2 main American characters, a white kid named Leonard who goes by Wei-Dong (in order to fit in with his remote Chinese gamer friends) is forced to remind himself why he's gotten involved with the burgeoning online-revolution, and the loneliness inherent in his lifestyle. Each major character has a moment when they question fighting for a cause with people in countries they will never go to, and comrades they will never meet, to fantastic effect: the "real world" becomes an outmoded term, and the world of the gamers asserts itself.
These elements in conjunction with Doctorow's strong use of interpersonal relationships pressed against these larger frameworks, I felt, alleviates the (arguable) slowness of the didactic passages, keeping the plot tense and (most of) the dialog taut. If I had one complaint, it would be that the passages in which concepts are explained between Ashok the economist and General Robotwallah (Mala) and Yasmin in India feel a bit lazy, whereas the passages in which Connor (a game runner and student of economics) explains things to the reader do not. It makes sense that Connor's POV would include these passages. The conversations in India, on the other hand, feel expository, and are less fun in the telling. However, all conversations between Lu (a gamer) and Jie (his covert-revolutionary-radio host girlfriend) are so real, Lu's tenderness and vulnerability and Jie's self-defensive strength so compelling, that I could imagine an entire novel just about the two of them being written.
Just like in Little Brother, Doctorow takes an incredibly idealistic concept, and backs it up with intelligence and logic, providing a strong, contrarian moral compass similar to that used by MT Anderson. It's probably obvious that I loved this book, and I admit that I'm predisposed to agreeing with both Doctorow and Anderson's senses of morality. But whether or not one agrees with the politics presented in this novel, I think there is enough meat and scope to at least be of interest to even the most labor-union-hating, gamer-despising, fiscally conservative reader, because ultimately, it's just a great story. And anyone can like a good story.

why MT Anderson is god, among other compliments

MT Anderson is that writer I like so much, I want to extract his brain in some painless procedure and then place it, very gently, where my pizza with extra cheese and soda pop addled brain once was. That is to say, I wish I had thought of any of the awesomeness he has bestowed on the world of children's publishing. Any of it.
Pictured here is Anderson upon winning the National Book Award for Young Adult Fiction for his [insert uproariously-praise-filled adjective here] novel The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Volume One The Pox Party. And the award wasn't just for the longest title ever. It also won the Printz Award. Though it does on some level fill me with sadness that only his most grownup book (in terms of diction, thematic elements and content) has received the crazy accolades that this novel did, it is undoubtedly a work of staggering accomplishment. The second volume, The Kingdom on the Waves was similarly fantastic, though, some have criticized it for the lack of focus in comparison to the first, very taut, installment (I actually favored the second for its scope, but that's just me). Published in two volumes, just as books would have been published in the era Octavian Nothing lived, these books serve to ask all attentive readers very pertinent questions about the nature of American freedom. By providing a narrative that illuminates the origins of our nation through the lens of a man subjugated by that very celebrated system, Anderson allows readers to examine their collective history on a very personal and very contemporary (despite the historical setting) manner. The back of the books suggest the reading age of 14 and up, but I have come across more than a couple of younger readers capable of handling it. Both installments contain brutally honest depictions of atrocities committed against slaves, yes, but the beauty of Octavian's narrative voice serve to show even the younger readers that there is power not only in literacy, but in appreciation and love of well-crafted prose. It is, in fact, Octavian's love for narrative that in many ways sets him apart, and for that reason he is the perfect conduit for Anderson's tale.

But even in Anderson's less serious works, his commitment to creating intelligent work for young readers is undeniable. In his series for middle readers, MT ANDERSON'S THRILLING TALES!, Anderson follows three main protagonists, two of whom are already stars in their own separate children's books series. The first installment, Whales on Stilts, is exactly as it promises. Whales. On stilts. Bent on world domination. Oh, with laser beams coming out their eyes. The second installment, Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen circles around a mystery unfolding in a ski lodge where the stars of numerous children's franchises are staying. (The third, Jasper Dash and the Fire Pits of Delaware, is not out just yet). But what Anderson does in these decidedly goofy tales that is, well, not goofy at all, is to playfully remind the readers of the absurdity of these franchises in the first place. While at once spinning a crazy story about something completely silly, he seems to be gently reminding the reader that anything that is made simply so that people will buy it is something that is, well, silly. On my favorite page in the first book, there is a page dedicated to an add for Katie Mulligan's (one of the three central protagonists) products, which prompts consumers to: "rush out and stuff your arms, pockets, and mouth with more... HORROR HOLLOW BOOKS" The books, which have gotten into the 200's, use exclamation points in triplets and all sound like Goosebumps titles. Basically, it's the series I recommend to all kids who are in the Dairy of a Wimpy Goosebumps Nancy Hardy Stilton Treehouse rut.

To be continued... (I've only gushed about half his books now, so stay tuned for more gushing)

or, just click this link, and hear it from the horse's mouth: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/11/28/AR2008112802766.html?nav=rss_print/style