Customer Reviews

The Book of Skulls

5 star:		(19)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(8)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

In another world this probably would have been a much bigger seller. Unfortunately the very thing that makes the book so great also works against it. This novel is the kind of intelligent, provocative SF that the genre always threaten to do but so rarely manages to make it work. However, that's also the problem. This is hardly the typical vision of "SF" with spaceships and convoluted science and aliens and rayguns. So the SF fans aren't going to be really into this. However, the publishing company probably promoted it as a SF book (Silverberg alludes to as much in the introduction) and thus the people out there looking for something sophisticated and different automatically were steered away from it because of the big "SF!" label. Gah. So what is this book about? On the surface it's about four young college men in the seventies who discover a cult in Arizona that can bestow eternal life on people, if they come in groups of four (a "Recepticle"). The only catch? Well, only two of the people actually get eternal life. In order to finish the ritual, one person has to commit suicide and the other has to be killed by the group. All four characters know this going in. But that's not really what the book is about. In reality, it's a brilliant character study. Silverberg tries the fairly difficult trick of having all four characters take turns narrating in the first person, which is harder than you'd think (well it's hard to do really well). Silverberg manages to give each guy a subtle cadence and rhythm to his voice, so that you can honestly ignore the names and read the chapters and know exactly who is speaking. It's that good. So the book bounces from character to character, and for the most part the monologues are absolutely mindboggling, Oliver's internal rant on the unfairness of death is some of the most fiery prose I've ever seen put to paper and there are great moments scattered all throughout. It's beautiful. It's barely SF. If you interpret the cult itself as basically an extended metaphor then you can basically have a character examination on par with that of Margaret Atwood or the like. Frankly, like most of Silverberg's seventies work, it ranks as simply excellent writing in any genre and is unjustly forgotten, in my opinion. Fortunately most of those books are starting to trickle back into print (I've seen Dying Inside, A Time of Changes, and Tower of Glass myself), so perhaps it's only a matter of time before someone wises up and gets this book into the hands of the people who deserve to read it. That is, everyone. If you find it, don't hesitate to snap up. It's one of those rare books you never knew existed but once you read it, you'll feel like you've always had it.

Silverberg has always struck me as one of science fiction's more confounding writers: I've tended to get riled by some of his issue-ridden subtexts, while simultaneously reveling in his strikingly poetic examination of the clash between Apollonian philosophies and the baser drives of human nature. His 1972 classic, The Book of Skulls is precisely this kind of novel, though it's more a first-person tale of rigorous self-examination in a supernatural context, than a science fiction book per se.

Very much rooted in the hedonistic early 1970's milieu, the story is presented as a series of journal-like chapter entries told by each of four New York college boys embarking on a very unusual cross-country trip - in search of eternal life. One of the four, Eli, has 'discovered' a mysterious centuries-old text buried in the dusty bowels of Columbia University's library collection. The Latin translation of the text we come to know as the Liber Calvarium - or the Book of Skulls - can be interpreted as a Mystery Tradition that proffers immortality to two of four individuals who embark on the journey. Four individuals must embark on the quest, knowing that two must die in the process - one must be sacrificed unwillingly, the other must commit suicide to fulfill the pact.

How exactly can you unify four people to work toward a single elusive goal when one of the "givens" is that only two will make it out alive? It's a gamble with the greatest of stakes: you will either live forever, or you will die prematurely. As the tale unfolds and the boys come closer to their destination, layers of questioning reveal each of the four's inner natures. Is the Book of Skulls real? Does the monastery exist? Do the Keepers exist? Is the Keepers' promise of life eternal real? And finally, is life itself real?

The four young men are as diametrically opposite as can be, almost allegorically representing the Elements. Studious, bookwormish (but neurotic) Eli comes across as a less libidinal (and almost humorless) Woody Allen type; filled with the uniquely dark East European Jewish view of life. WASP-ish, earthy Timothy comes from moneyed deep American roots that go back to the Mayflower, so to speak; and has wanted for little in his life. Blond, burly farmboy Oliver comes from humble Midwestern stock, but is fire-intense and very intelligent; he seeks to cure the pain of his mother's and father's early deaths by becoming a surgeon. Finally, there is Ned, a flightily-portrayed lapsed Boston Irish Catholic acolyte to the priesthood, who ultimately couldn't reconcile his same-sex desires with the vow of celibacy.

It almost sounds like a bad joke: what happens when you pack a spoiled rich boy, a homosexual, a farm boy and a Jew into a car and send them to the Arizona desert? An engrossing road-trip adventure - and one that only gets more interesting when they find the mysterious Keepers of the Skulls who dwell in a desert "monastery" near Phoenix. What the Book of Skulls succeeds so well at is examining the baroque intersections of social class, ethnicity, belief systems, physical appearance, and how our preconceptions of our fellow man can be ultimately deceiving.

If you can set aside the novel's shameful portrayal of women (every female is a personality-less Stepford Wife whose sole purpose is to provide an outlet for "release", essentially. I know it sounds horrible, but there isn't a single thoughful line spoken by a woman or girl in the book, and every description is couched as a function of her sexual attractiveness - or unattractiveness.) as nonentities, and gays as manipulative, unstable, troubled souls, there is a wealth of character development and procedural insight I've rarely seen in a book this size.

Objectively, I can file away my objections under the 'personal and historical flaw' category; Silverberg is part of a different generation and it is clear from this novel he has some strong psychological issues with both the female gender, and homosexuality - he dwells far too much on the details of certain episodes of the boys' sexual lives for that not to be the case. A person who hasn't thought long and hard on such matters wouldn't write so knowingly of that inner turmoil that Ned and Oliver suffer from, and the dysphoric undercurrents speak of a self-loathing of what I think may be the author's inner affectional longings.

At under 200 pages, The Book of Skulls is a dense, chewy and satisfying 'retro' read that calls for close attention to every word. I found myself reading many of the lines silently under my breath, amazed at the lyricism and potent truths that lay just under their surface. Think Umberto-Eco-meets-Jack-Kerouac. You won't find a glittering future of spaceships and time travel here, but if you seek high interpersonal drama and thoughtful characterization melded with supernatural philisophical mystery, this book is a must-read.

I am not surprised that this book is out of print. It's message is so disturbing, and the writing so far out of kilter with the writing of that generation, it sends out clear messages that the world Silverberg is going to extraordinary pains to depict accurately is not normal.

This is not a SF novel at all. There are no special effects; the story is told in the present tense, mostly, by the various members of the group. In spite of this, and their apparent good old American roots, it is clear that these roots themselves are going to lead them them, singularly, and as a group, into the abyss, and while the theme of immortality is constantly present, from the beginning it is clear that it is either irrelevant to them, and that they are simply chasing dreams of a dank and musty type, or that it is the sort of immortality which would be spent in places indistinguishable from the frontiers, if not the interior of Hell.

The genius of Silverberg, and this label is thoughtfully applied - is to draw the pictures of the genesis of the characters - and their eventual actions - well before the narrative starting post. We actually hear and see more of each of them in the past than the present. The intent is show the inevitability of their journey-but it also has the odd effect, which I am sure is not accidental, of making the past and the future for these boys of far greater concern than their own shallow and mean relationships in the present. The narrative used in the novel has the effect of making the novel skid uncomfortably across the present tense, uncomfortably fast.

This is not SF in any real sense. However, It is full of allusions towards linguistics, Jewish History and Culture (a particularly rich part of the book is here), baseball culture, and even gay culture.

The characters have to enter a rite of confession - ironically the whole novel is a series of damnable confessions of various types - but the apex of the novel is this specific ritual confession, which leads eventually to murder and suicide. How different this is from the cathartic prototype it might have otherwise have been!

In this case, the true motive behind the long journey to Arizona is confused, not illuminated. The descent into immortality is also a descent into madness and darkness, in spite of the long, swealtery chapter at the end of the book giving some illusion of peace. You have the impression that Silverberg has met this darkness before and is giving a clear and most eloquent warning against it.

Do read this if you possibly get the chance. It's a unique feat of writing which I don't think Silverberg managed to perform so well more than once.

If this had not been written by Robert Silverberg, it would be a brilliant "mainstream" novel. I'm not sure if that's praise or not, but perhaps it might help gain the book the readership it deserves. Horrifyingly, I got to read it purely by chance. I'd never heard of the ... thing before; I bought it because of the title, because I'm a sucker for books about ancient manuscripts and immortal cults, and because many years ago I read and enjoyed Silverberg's The Stochastic Man (similar premise to Asimov's Foundation books, in case you're interested, but a much better development). The Book of Skulls, an ancient manuscript, tells of a sect which offers immortality to two people at a time, but in order for them to attain it one other must commit suicide (so that the others may learn the meaning of self-denial) and one must be murdered by the others (so that they may learn the meaning of exclusion). The story, told in the first person by four American students, is partly a horror story, partly a (loathsome phrase) "novel of ideas", partly a brilliant character study, and partly an intriguing (and possibly terrifying) speculation upon the meaning and consequences of sin. I would never dream of calling this science fiction; if I had to draw comparisons, I would call it an example of the kind of literature represented by David Lindsay's A Voyage to Arcturus and Leo Perutz' Saint Peter's Snow. But if they had to market it as an "SF masterwork" in order to getit back into print, as with Stapledon's Last and First Men and Star Maker, then the end has amply justified the means. Whether you read science fiction or not, read this.

Four friends travel to the Arizona desert in search of eternal life offered by a sect mentioned in the Book of Skulls - a misterious manuscript discovered by one of the members of the group. It seems a wild - goose chase at first, but when Oliver, Ned, Timothy and Eli find that the sect really exists they are confronted with the choice of either leaving or staying and face the sect's initiation ritual: two must die in order for the others to gain immortality. I was hooked from the first word to the last. Towards the end, I found myself covering the pages with my hand to avoid looking by accident at the titles of the following chapters! Someone once said that a great idea in the hands of a poor writer doesn't become a great story. Fortunately for us, Robert Silverberg is an exceptional writer and the result couldn't be less than perfect. As a fellow reviewer said, and I quote: "this book would give a wild movie." I couldn't agree more. And anyway how is it possible a book like this to be out of print??? If you ever get you hands on a copy, don't give it a second thought: buy it! Or borrow it from a friend, or a complete stranger - it realy doesn't matter as long as you read it. I assure you, when you finish reading it, every hair in your body will be standing up. This is truly a five starer. I would've given it six stars if that were possible!

If this were Robert Silverberg's first book, he probably wouldn't be classified as a SF author. If this were his first book, maybe it wouldn't even have been published. The subjects dealt with in this book are so touchy - religion and social class discrepancies, homosexuality - that it probably wouldn't get past the editor. Anyhow, it's precisely because of these features, plus Silverberg's elegant writing, that the work is worth reading.

Silverberg uses an innovative technique, shifting points-of-view in first-person narrative to take us on a journey through Harvard college life and into the heart of the desert in Arizona. The four main characters are well-developed but somehow stereotypical, and we get to know two of them better - the two who supposedly `write more' (i.e., there are more chapters under their point-of-view). The conflict is that two of them must die so that the other two attain immortality. The only one who is able to reach into each character's mind and thus become aware of their personal drives and interests is the reader, making him stand out as a confidant, or even as a fifth character.

The main philosophical message delivered by this book is very similar to that of a novelette of Silverberg's that also deals with the subject of immortality, `Looking for the Fountain' (IASFM, May 1992). In the very moment you become immortal, you can never know if you did become immortal because there are no Hollywood special effects around to make you glow or anything. The anticlimactic ending takes Silverberg very close (under my regard) to another great philosophical-SF author, Stanislaw Lem.

'The Book Of Skulls' is an ancient manuscript detailing an ancient sect who offer immortality in return for human deaths. Silverbergs' novel, first published in 1972, is a gripping yet horrifying journey from Manhattan to the Arizona desert. The journey is made by 4 US students of equally different backgrounds: Eli, an 'uptight Israelite', who discovered the manuscript leading them to Arizona; Timothy, an impatient rich boy; Oliver, a troubled farm boy from Kansas; and gay Ned, a 'depraved choirboy'. Accordingly, each chapter is told from the perspective of one of the 4 students. Silverberg defines and exposes the characters through his use of the first person. None of the students are perfect. Each describes their darkest secret before the Ninth Mystery is performed: two must die in order for the other two to live forever. Fantastic novel, buy it immediately.

I found this book among some SF and Fantasy books being thrown out for trash and am really glad I saved it. Though presented and packaged as a dime novel mass market popular paperback, the work is deserving of high literary merit and probably should be taught in literature classes where character study and symbolism are main themes.
Silverberg's scharacter developement of the four college boys who have discovered directions to an Arizona cult that can grant immortality is astounding. Parts of the story are told from the first person viewpoints of each of the four questers, and as in Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury" each section has a distinct style and train of thought in order to effectively describe the different personalities of each of them. Knowing that in order to complete the ritual, one of the companions must be murdered and another must commit suicide, the thought processes of the companions become exceedingly intricate as the story unfolds.
The most obvious symbolism in the book is stated by analogy when the tracking of a wild beast by primitive hunters is described. The four companions are, essentially, a War Chief, a Political Chief, a Witchdoctor, and a Court Jester. They are tracking a wild beast across a vast landscape, and this beast is symbolic not only of immortality but also of an ideal civilization. The interaction between the four adventurers is an analogy to the relationship, communication, and strife between different factions of government.
Incredibly profound, hypnotically interesting, and with an ending that will blindside even the most astute reader, The Book of Skulls is indeed a novel worthy of cannonization. I am exceedingly happy to see it back in print!

I agree with the reviewer below. It is a crime that this book is out of print. I found a very old third- or fourth-hand copy in the back of a used bookstore. I had no idea what it was about, but the cover looked interesting, so I read it just for the heck of it. I was shocked. Although it's quite dated (the book was written in the early 70s, and it shows in some of the lingo and cultural attitudes) this is easily one of the greatest fantasy novels ever, and that's not an exaggeration. I've never read anything like it; there's nothing you can read that will prepare you for this book. The plot, briefly: Four college students travel out west on a search for immortality, after one of them uncovers a mysterious manuscript called "The Book of Skulls." The tale of their journey alternates between the points of view of the four students. Along the way, we are treated to a searing and sensitive look at human psychology and the the mysterious innerworkings of the soul and spirit. I've read this book several times, and can't for the life of me figure out why it isn't enormously popular. It truly captures the spirit, the problems, the contradictions of the modern human condition, and in a way that's accessible to nearly everyone. It ought to be a classic. If you ever find a copy of this book, read it immediately. It will stay with you forever. This book has an honored place on my shelf; it's one of the reasons that I love reading, and as a wannabe-author myself, it's the kind of book that I've always wished I might someday be able to write. Very highly recommended.

The "book of skulls" is guaranted to set you thinking about mortality, eternity and the dark desires of the human soul. Something you would not expect in "just another old fantasy story". Set against the background of a lonely desert, the book desribes how dark desires are awakened in four inherently different college boys. Two of them are given the opportunity to gain immortality by a strange order of monks, if one of them commits suicide and one is killed. Strange initiation rites rip apart the characters of the apparently nice and even "cute" boys, making you wonder about whether there is such a thing as "normal". The book leaves you with questions about your own desires, about life and death, about the boundaries of immortality... It is a shame this book is out of print for such a long time.