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Title: Pretentious twaddle
Review: I am astounded by the hysteria that surrounds this novel and its sequel. Quick frankly, I can't find a good thing about it. It is overwritten. It logically makes no sense whatsoever. John Keats, fine poet as he was, is hardly an apt figure for the ultimate savior of mankind. The science--ranging from tree ships to a super-Internet that be both (a) intelligent and (b) a transportation network ("It's a floor wax! It's a dessert topping!!") is worse than embarressing. I literally forced myself though both volumes, with a "this can't get any worse" attitude--and it did. Be warned. If you like, say, the Charles Sheffield / Arthur Clarke / Isaac Asimov end of the spectrum, you will hate this. If you like fantasy and have no sense of logic, you might like it.
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