Lo siento, pero no. Reconozco que lo he terminado para poder hablar con propiedad y porque soy incapaz de abandonar un libro, pero si lo hubiese sabido, no habría gastado ni el dinero, ni el tiempo.

Empecemos por los puntos positivos: el metaverso, la idea de la torre de Babel, la sociedad anarquista-mafiosa que plantea y Fido, la criatura rata, totalmente desaprovechada. Con este planteamiento uno suspende su incredulidad y se mete en ese submundo de pizzas y katanas. La historia no tiene ni pies ni cabeza, nada es consecuencia de nada. Los mismos personajes de cartón-piedra que reparten pizzas son supermanes que conducen motos a 16.000 km/hora, derriban submarinos atómicos y hackean lo que no está escrito. Así que claro, la incredulidad retorna. Vale, se dice uno, no me creo nada, pero es divertido como unos dibujos animados. El problema es que semejante refrito de imágenes ni siquiera funciona así. El autor mete tropecientas páginas de wikipoedia sobre los sumerios y el código de Hammurabi ¿para justificar qué?

No es mi primera novela de ciencia ficción (habré leído cerca de 200), ni mi primer cyberpunk. Ni siquiera es mi primer libro del autor (al que había etiquetado -probablemente de manera injusta- como poco interesante y tendente a alargar las historias con un exceso de páginas). No sé. Quizá puedan hacer un video juego delirante de semejante truño, pero una novela, lo siento, pero no.

Перша половина книги, десь двісті сторінок, була прям неймовірно цікава, відірватися від книги було важко. Світи які описує автор, як реальний так і віртуальний, дуже прикольні, цікаві та яскраві, дуже добре та деталізовано розписано як в них все працює та взаємодіє. Ця частина книги мені сподобалась найбільше.
Головні персонажі, ну вони норм, розвитку вони не мають, які були на перших сторінках, такими залишаються і у кінці книги. Про другорядних я взагалі мовчу. Хтось помер по мірі розвитку сюжету, але якогось співчуття вони не викликають. Напочатку книги вимальовується непоганий та багатообіцяючий сюжет. Але з другої половини книги щось пішло не так, я далі просто не зміг розгледіти виразний сюжет за цим складним текстом.
Об'ємні та довгі розмови про релігію, шумерскі міфи, мову, комп'ютерне кодування, лінгвістичні віруси та ще багато чого, та все це ще якось пов'язано між собою. Перечитував по два рази глави та все одно на сто відсотків не зрозумів того що хотів сказати автор. Трохи складно, або я просто тупий щоб все це осягнути.
А ще мені здавалось що подача сюжету була така ніби смикана чи рвана, ну тобто не відчувається цілісності сюжету, наче між главами вирвані куски тексту, або якісь події залишається поза книгою, немає плавного переходу між подіями у главах.
Я розраховував що хочь фінал буде епічно крутим, але й цього не сталося. Автор закрив всі сюжетні гілки, (одного я так і не зрозумів, що там сталось з ядерною боєголовкою?) але це було якось дуже швидко, просто та читалось напрочуд нудно.
Враження від книги неоднозначні. Не можу сказати що книга геть погана, ні, вона норм, посередня, для мене на 3/5⭐

6.0 stars (One of my all time favorite novels). While reading this book, I was constantly thinking to myself "WOW, what a great concept" and "HOW did the author think that up." Without giving away too much in the way of a spoiler, I was amazed at the way the author took the work of computers, vitual reality and the metaverse and tied it into ancient religions and philosophy. The relationshipo conceived by the author on that point alone was mind-boggling. Add to that a great anti-hero, a superb villian (actually several villains) and a fun, detailed view of a dystopian future and you have a fun, fun read that will make you say WOW on more than one occassion. A true classic.

Nominee: British Science Fiction Award
Nominee: Arthur C. Clarke Award best SF Novel

More like 4.5 since the story is always kind of secondary in Stephenson's books. Apart from that, every time I read something of his My brain feels like it has gotten a jolt of adrenaline and a triple cappuccino, waking it from the muddle of books that have tried and obviously succeeded in putting me in a slight coma....
I think many of us make the mistake of reading a genre of books that makes us feel good to such a degree, that we get "immune" to it, develop a tolerance and start missing the very things that make that genre so endearing to us. I remember a time in the early 90's when cyber-punk was almost the only thing I would read, and at one point everything started reading the same, putting me off of the field for a really long time. I have gone through similar periods with historical romance, erotica, bondage, fantasy, history, and as of late, urban fantasy.... I love examples of every one of those fields, but have found that if I am immersed in one of them, boredom with the same starts to creep in and I lose perspective. Thus, if I mix-in a totally different book, written in a different time and stile, it tends to remind me how much I love other things as well, making my return to the previous books once more enjoyable.
My 5 star rating could be attributed to the enjoyment of the differences this book gave me, but I rather think it has more to do with the ton of information one can always count on when reading Neal S. books. This always detracts form the story, but in a popular field overwhelmed by story and character driven entries, those which offer fact and logic "info-dumps" with outlandish theories and implausible plot-lines seem like the thorn bush in a vase of Dasie's! It is different, uncomfortable and utterly welcome:) Now I just have to be careful not to flood my brain with only thorn-bushes...

"Verás, el mundo está lleno de cosas más poderosas que nosotros. Pero si sabes cómo cabalgarlas, te llevan a sitios."

¿Qué fumaste, Stephenson?

Okay, el worldbuilding es magnífico. Toda la idea del Metaverso y las leyes que lo rigen son alucinantes. La mezcla mitos+software+lingüística+religión es para sacarse el sombrero. La analogía entre el lenguaje máquina y el neurolinguístico me puso la piel de gallina. ¿Enki, el hacker sumerio? Vaya, vaya, vaya. Sí, está repleta de ideas provocadoras. Entiendo por qué a muchos esto les parece una genialidad.

Para mí "Snow Crash" ha sido buena pero, mierda, por momentos parece que Stephenson tiene tantas ideas en la cabeza que llega a confundir, como si conforme fuera escribriendo se le ocurrieran un millón de cosas más y te usa como una suerte de conejillo de indias de la literatura. Por momentos se me hacía muy lenta. Comencé abrumado por tanta información, me gustó mucho una tercera parte del libro, todo lo del medio, y el final volvió a caer dejando mucho que desear para mi gusto. Si lo ponemos en binario eso sería como un 010, pero dejémoslo en 3.5 estrellas. ¿Habrá más Stephenson para mí en el futuro? Sí.

Tal vez con esto me gane el infierno del cyberpunk, pero me gustó más lo de Richard Morgan en Carbono modificado. Soy un profano en lo que respecta al cyberpunk, lo siento.

Delightfully dorky, this raucously riotous romp through the freaky futuristic fads of yesteryear's imagined tomorrows really appealed to the 13-year-old Edgelord in me.

2.5 stars. Hits the gas real hard early on but runs out of fuel too soon and sputters to a standstill before the finish line. Then it just sort of blows up.

I'm just updating this review I posted in 2011.

Since reading this book I have read two more Neal Stephenson novels namely The Diamond Age and Anathem. Of the three I think Snow Crash is the most fun book. It is not as deep or thought provoking as the other two (Anathem especially) but the most wildly entertaining. I can still remember the "the greatest pizza delivery scene in world literature" and YT's "harpooning" cars as if I was there.

The experience is like reading about being in VR while being in a sort of VR myself. To me a good book (novels specifically) is like virtual reality, being immersed in a book takes me away from wherever I am. The people or the environment I am in does not register, if I had anything cooking on the stove it would get burned, telephones and door bells go unanswered.

Snow Crash is one such book and I heartily recommend it to anyone who want to take a quick leave of their current reality.

After 70 pages, I'm not getting along with this book, so off to the charity shop it goes. The prospect of reading 500 more pages is too much to bear.

Cyberpunk’s next generation pretty much began here. Written by someone who -unlike William Gibson- actually knows computers, this anime in novel form is one of those rare SF books that is read by many non-SF readers.

On a personal note, this is probably the only book I’ll ever read whose main character is half black and half Japanese, just like me! When I first read it, I was working at a pizza place, just like the protagonist, and I actually got fired around the same time I got to the point of him losing his job as well. Also, my first name is Hiroshi and he goes by Hiro. Cool, huh? OK, aside from those neat little coincidences, we are not at all alike. It just made reading it all the more fun for me. Plus I hated that job.

Admittedly, there are certain aspects of this book that are a tad dated now (it was written in 1991), and he can’t quite get past certain stereotypes of Japanese people that many Westerners harbor. Still, there is some fun bit of social commentary and parody on just about every other page, and Stephenson satirizes globalization years before most people even knew what globalization is.

There is also some really fascinating stuff involving the concept of memetic viruses, which he ties to Sumerian mythology and the Tower of Babel. I know that a lot of people find this part of the book to be boring, but I was fully engrossed. The kind of thing I live for when I read SF.

Neuromancer, the book most frequently shelved on Goodreads as 'cyberpunk', was my top read of 2013. n  Snow Crashn, the book second most frequently shelved on Goodreads as 'cyberpunk', is currently my top read of 2014.
I think I might be a cyberpunk fan...

n  Snow Crashn was just perfect. See exhibit A:

hero
ˈhɪərəʊ/
noun
1. a person, typically a man, who is admired for their courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.

protagonist
/prəˈtaɡ(ə)nɪst/
noun
1. the leading character or one of the major characters in a play, film, novel, etc

So Stephenson has named his main character Hiro Protagonist. I find that to be a) funny and b) clever. This makes me happy. If you do not like this joke, you probably won't like this book.

Hiro is the embodiment of cyberpunk cool. He is a freelance hacker and the world's greatest swordsman. He passed up the opportunity to be mega-rich to help out his Mum and promotes non-profit Ukranian nuclear fuzz-grunge gigs in his spare time.

We open the story with a 20 page life-or-death 'chase' sequence, with Hiro (under the persona of The Deliverator) attempting to... deliver a pizza for the mob. The action is fun, fast paced and always imaginative. The world building is dark and mocking, but also cocky and juvenile.

n  Snow Crashn reminded me of a madcap blend of The Gone-Away World, The Matrix (movie), Scott Pilgrim (comic), Ghost Dog (movie), Altered Carbon, Tron (movie) - and Neuromancer, of course! But it's so much lighter, sillier and altogether more joyful than Neuromancer! Most similar is The Diamond Age (which followed this, but that sort of goes without saying...)

I tore through this in my spare moments, around work, family, life, etc - with that resentful growl every time someone dragged me back to reality. "Erm, C, I can see you're enjoying your book, but we really need you in this meeting..." Grrrrrr!

So a lot of people hate it. So what?! They're all wrong!
Normally I hedge my statement... "I can understand that..", "..but I can imagine if..." It's so liberating being on outright fan!
This is my seventh Stephenson and I've loved them all.

I want to harpoon a car with my electromagnet then get towed on my sci-fi skateboard with telescoping spoke-feet smart-wheels, damnit!

I've been putting off reading n  Snow Crashn for YEARS because I just KNEW that I would love it like this... so I was saving it... like the very last cookie in the jar.
And I was right; it was sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet!

Why isn't there a MOVIE/ANIME SERIES/COMPUTER GAME of n  Snow Crashn?!

After this I read: A Stranger North

Paladin Christoff “Anvil” Magnússon and Reverend Mother Jen “Pool Noodle” Kumiko are vectors of transmission, looking to infect all sentient creatures of the wasteland with a meta-viral-load known as the collected works of Neal Stephenson (a.k.a. “The Goddamn Word”). Sartorially ejaculated into the tight crevices of their T-69 power suits, with their integrated heavy exterior composite armor and steel encased depleted uranium bilayer, and armed to the nucleotide with technology designed to produce sudden and vertiginous negative externalities within the respective portfolios of the heretical - they are the vanguard of The Brotherhood of The Goddamn Word’s evangelical designs.

Brother Christoff removes his giant power-hammer from the magnetic holster on his back, its shaft telescoping to full length in his gauntleted fist. He grips the holy sledge (Homeostasis Fucker) and admires the warm light emanating from its massive head as radioactive isotopes engage in holy fission. Actuators within his suit hum as he hefts the instrument aloft.

“Knight Vision on.” He says. Both pressing their fingers to their necks as if detecting a pulse, causing visors of gunmetal gray to shroud their faces. Dual slits open and glow with a cold blue light as associated visual tech augments their paltry biological capacities. “For as it is written in Snow Crash; Brother Ng, in his impenetrable chariot of repurposed runway fire truck, did use thermals to detect snipers most hidden and thus protect Holy Mother Y.T. from elements of vile industriousness.”

“As it is written.” Noodle intones. Withdrawing her somewhat diminutive, ordinary tack hammer and rapping it across her palm. “Uncle Enzo did attend to details most assiduously. Like unto when he removed his socks and slit his trousers to proceed stealthily against a foe most worthy. He of the Fu Manchu and the molecule blades. And Lady Jaunita did condense fact from the nuance of vapor.”

“So mote it be.” Anvil agrees, pointing to a cluster of makeshift housing rising from the garbage-scape. An incongruous boil of life on a mummified ass. “Two warm bodies inside. Both unarmed. A sentinel of arachnid origins, equipped with primitive slug thrower, patrolling outside.”

“Radscorp?” Noodle asks.

“A big one.”

“On your command.”

“Proceed with your original composition of The Goddamn Word.”

“Ahh..” Noodle clears her throat and begins her rhetorical assault as the two forge ahead. Anvil with Homeostasis Fucker high over head, leading the way.

Tongue punching aural geometries with her amplified voice; “Citizens of the wastes! Have you ever, while nurturing a bolus of combat stimulants deep within the nested hierarchy of your experiential existence, found yourself stricken with an incredible need for Cyberpunk in the vein of Brother Gibson?”

Radioactive hoboscorpion with shotgun chitters into view. Fluorescent chemicals glowing in the ultraviolet spectrum across its exoskeleton. Pincers working the lever of the slug thrower. Tail poised to strike and deposit venom. Brother anvil, with servos screaming, crests embankment of detritus with titanic speed, leaping high into the air with spring loaded grace, rocket packs deploying calculated thrust to maximize parabolic grandeur.

“I ask you again! Citizens of the wastes! Have you ever, while carpet-bombing your nervous systems with vast quantities of psychoactive drugs, felt a deep spiritual need for dystopian science fiction in which the world has been balkanized into corporate fiefdoms where anarcho-capitalist ideologies reflect their morphological absurdities in the funhouse mirrors of Emperor Stephenson’s inexhaustible imagination?”

Anvil crashes back to the earth, his hammer flattening the chitinous offender with such violence that all eight legs rocket from its central body, each carrying enough force to knock a bison crossed eyed. It’s pincers, still clutching the gun, are jettisoned into the atmosphere where they discharge both barrels as if in impotent rage. The rapid expansion of superheated air around the buried maul creates a peel of thunder, sending out a spray of errant scrap as the shockwave expands, flattening nearby double-headed oxen and ripping the siding off several proximate tenements, revealing a man squatting above a hole and a woman rising from her agitated half sleep now in mortal fear.

“A technological thriller alloyed with explorations of mythology...” Noodle continues, taking a moment to deflect, with her claw hammer, a rusty muffler borne aloft by concussive forces. “In which linguistics are examined in a manner that is most intriguing. In which pitbull terriers, cloaked in the vestments of cybernetic enhancement, locomote in fashions super sonic. Where the bestest good boy, verily, I say unto you; Fido! Doth well and truly shine most stellarly at denouements commencing. Inside these pages, you may escape the squalor of your lives, like unto Father Protagonist, who, jacking into the metaverse, transcends the ignominy of dwelling within the bowels of U-Store-It and fulfills his namesake.”

Anvil, with Homeostasis Fucker resting comfortable across his shoulders, gestures for Noodle to take the lead.

“Brother. Sister.” She says, producing two copies of Snow Crash and placing them inside the skeletal remains of their exploded domicile. “Enjoy The Goddamn Word.”

2.5

Needlessly long-winded. Strange as it may sound, I was intensely bored. The ideas that Stephenson plays with here are all highly thought-provoking, but they are (amateurishly and without inspiring the tiniest spark of suspension of disbelief) exploited to put together a thriller-ish, treasure-hunt-ish kind of plot that only succeeds in giving life to an uninteresting unfolding of the story and a host of predictable and cartoonish characters that I certainly won't miss. The idea of 'linguistic virus' is better deployed, in my opinion, in Delany's Babel 17.