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Ten Billion Days and One Hundred Billion Nights
Plato, Buddha, Christ—what brings these men to the far future to witness the end of the world?
Ten billion days--that is how long it will take the philosopher Plato to determine the true systems of the world. One hundred billion nights--that is how far into the future he and Christ and Siddhartha will travel to witness the end of the world and also its fiery birth. Named the greatest Japanese science fiction novel of all time, Ten Billion Days and One Hundred Billion Nights is an epic eons in the making. Originally published in 1967, the novel was revised by the author in later years and republished in 1973.
“‘Ten Billion Days and One Hundred Billion Nights,’ that's a lot of time, but Ryu Mitsuse covers all of it in under 300 pages, and the result is quite fabulous.” –Alan Cheuse, All Things Considered
Ten billion days--that is how long it will take the philosopher Plato to determine the true systems of the world. One hundred billion nights--that is how far into the future he and Christ and Siddhartha will travel to witness the end of the world and also its fiery birth. Named the greatest Japanese science fiction novel of all time, Ten Billion Days and One Hundred Billion Nights is an epic eons in the making. Originally published in 1967, the novel was revised by the author in later years and republished in 1973.
“‘Ten Billion Days and One Hundred Billion Nights,’ that's a lot of time, but Ryu Mitsuse covers all of it in under 300 pages, and the result is quite fabulous.” –Alan Cheuse, All Things Considered
284 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1967
About the author
Ryu Mitsuse
5 books9 followersBorn in Tokyo in 1928, Ryū Mitsuse graduated from Tokyo University of Education with a degree in the sciences, after which he took up the study of philosophy. He debuted with “Sunny Sea 1979” in 1962, and his work—which often combines Eastern philosophy and hard science fiction—includes Tasogare ni kaeru (Returns in the Twilight) and Ushinawareta toshi no kiroku (The Chronicle of a Lost City). Mitsuse made SF history when his short story “The Sunset, 2217 A.D.” was translated into English for inclusion in Best Science Fiction for 1972. With artist Keiko Takemiya, he created the manga Andromeda Stories. Ryu Mitsuse died in 1999.
See also:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryu_Mitsuse
http://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/ea.cgi?R...
See also:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryu_Mitsuse
http://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/ea.cgi?R...
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 117 reviews
December 24, 2014
People kept asking what I was reading and I would say it's this Japanese philosophical science fantasy novel from the 60s featuring Jesus, Siddartha and Plato travelling to the end of time to discover the truth about Alien bioengineering of Earth and the lost city of Atlantis. Living, as I do, in the hippy capital of Western Australia there was a lot of interest shown in that synopsis, what with every other person seemingly happy to admit to believing in alien conspiracy theories, the power of people's aura colour and the guiding influence of tarot. I was then grateful to discover that they all became cyborgs and fought with each other on a desolated Earth 5,670,000 years in to the future.
November 17, 2023
Well, it's so weird that I think I liked it, although I'm not entirely sure. Too many disconnected things happen all the time and make you wonder if you missed somewhere a line, a paragraph or an entire chapter that would finally explain all that mess, but in the end it's a masterfully written mess.
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Beh, è così strano che penso mi sia piaciuto, anche se non ne sono del tutto sicuro. Accadono continuamente troppe cose sconnesse che ti fanno chiedere se ti sei perso da qualche parte una riga, un paragrafo o un intero capitolo che spieghi finalmente tutto quel pasticcio, ma alla fine è un pasticcio scritto magistralmente.
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Beh, è così strano che penso mi sia piaciuto, anche se non ne sono del tutto sicuro. Accadono continuamente troppe cose sconnesse che ti fanno chiedere se ti sei perso da qualche parte una riga, un paragrafo o un intero capitolo che spieghi finalmente tutto quel pasticcio, ma alla fine è un pasticcio scritto magistralmente.
January 17, 2016
This book is so batshit insane I don't know what to think. I think I enjoyed it.
December 17, 2012
If our universe is defined by the limits of time since the Big Bang, then what lies beyond that boundary?
To try to answer that question Mitsuse has mixed hard science fiction, heavy on cosmology, and the three of humanities great philosophical traditions. And by mixing, I mean pitting against one another in a battle for supremacy and to save humanity from destruction at the hands of some not so benevolent beings. Ten Billion Days and Hundred Billion Nights also covers a tremendous amount of ground starting at the very beginning of the universe to its final death from entropy.
Without going into too much detail, the novel tells a story of an alien influence on the growth and development of humanity, and how it has manifested itself in different religions and philosophies throughout history. These are the parts of the novel in which Mitsuse is at his best. The writing for each time period resembles the religious and philosophical texts of the time, and the science fiction elements of the plot and battle scenes are worked into the story line seamlessly. But the most compelling part of the story for me though was the insights into Buddhism and that outlook compares with the Christian worldview. At times I didn't fully understand what was going on, and at times the constant descriptions of the characters every thought process got to be a bit tedious; but I'm still amazed at how Mitsuse was able to work so much into one science fiction story and still write something compelling.
Ten Billion Days and Hundred Billion Nights was an ambitious undertaking, and I believe the Mitsuse pretty much pulled it off. It assumes quite a lot of prior knowledge about both physics and metaphysics, and it moves so quickly it can sometimes be confusing, but in my opinion it was well worth the effort to read. I very much enjoyed my first foray into Japanese science fiction.
To try to answer that question Mitsuse has mixed hard science fiction, heavy on cosmology, and the three of humanities great philosophical traditions. And by mixing, I mean pitting against one another in a battle for supremacy and to save humanity from destruction at the hands of some not so benevolent beings. Ten Billion Days and Hundred Billion Nights also covers a tremendous amount of ground starting at the very beginning of the universe to its final death from entropy.
Without going into too much detail, the novel tells a story of an alien influence on the growth and development of humanity, and how it has manifested itself in different religions and philosophies throughout history. These are the parts of the novel in which Mitsuse is at his best. The writing for each time period resembles the religious and philosophical texts of the time, and the science fiction elements of the plot and battle scenes are worked into the story line seamlessly. But the most compelling part of the story for me though was the insights into Buddhism and that outlook compares with the Christian worldview. At times I didn't fully understand what was going on, and at times the constant descriptions of the characters every thought process got to be a bit tedious; but I'm still amazed at how Mitsuse was able to work so much into one science fiction story and still write something compelling.
Ten Billion Days and Hundred Billion Nights was an ambitious undertaking, and I believe the Mitsuse pretty much pulled it off. It assumes quite a lot of prior knowledge about both physics and metaphysics, and it moves so quickly it can sometimes be confusing, but in my opinion it was well worth the effort to read. I very much enjoyed my first foray into Japanese science fiction.
February 9, 2019
221111:weird. but then what did i expect? rigorously scientific naturalism, to the 11th power, of religious/cosmological events, characters, worlds. do not know when it was conceived, why it is considered best of j sf, but this might be a case of cultural ignorance combined with lack of hard science knowledge. no real characters, only something like avatars of earth religions or thought. plato, siddhartha, asura… jesus? mind-blowing scales, numbers, dimensions, and wooden characters and action figure plot, like a combination of a c clarke and pulp like a e van vogt. it is said to be buddhist cosmology combined with scientific cosmology. maybe it is but i would not know. not surprisingly, i saw this mostly like j animated sf/fantasy movies, with bad dubbing...
November 30, 2017
10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights is a piece of late 1960s Japanese sci-fi that the Internet tells me is kind of a big deal. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. I first encountered in on Strange Horizons, where it was the topic of one of their book review roundtables.
The elevator pitch of "Christ Versus Mecha-Buddha. In Space!" is what immediately drew my attention, but I was also drawn by the description of it as blending science-fiction and religious/mythical/historical fiction. I soon learned that the elevator pitch was both completely accurate and completely false.
Make no mistake: 10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights is a bleak, bleak book. And yet its bleakness and terror strike at me in a way I feel moved to visit and revisit, much as I regularly rewatch Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. I generally try to avoid reread reviews on this blog, but I have a lot of things to talk about, so I shall.
10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights has an core cast of larger-than-life figures: Prince Siddartha (yes, that Prince Siddartha), Jesus Christ, Plato. They are rendered in this novel as deeply human, united in their yearning to understand the world around them -- not just its material essence, but its true meaning and nature. In a world that seems full of cruelty and devoid of reason, their desire is understandable. The tragedy is that the gods they turn to for answers are remote and angry; not just indifferent, but full of malice. Plato may seem like an odd addition to this case of religious figures, but I think Plato is meant to represent a secular yearning for knowledge. His Allegory of the Cave isn't mentioned explicitly, but it's a core part of his philosophy and strongly associated with him. I can't believe that that wasn't lurking in the background of how and why Mitsuse chose him as part of his cast.
And then there's Asura. She is, by far, the most tragic of the characters, the ruthless driving heart. Her desperation and need to know and fight the forces that had destroyed her world. Her position as the adversary, locked in endless battle. In some ways her characterization matches recent pop culture depictions of Lucifer as not that bad after all, the reframing of the divine enemy as a hero by reframing the divine as villainous.
The choice to render Asura a teenage girl is a strange one now; I can't imagine how strange it would have been in the 1960s. She is the keen one, the intelligent one, the terrifying and ferocious warrior. She's also the oldest and most seasoned, the one with the greatest sense of what has been lost and what there is left to lose. I don't think Mitsuse's intent was the simple visual irony, but I think this juxtaposition of visual and narrative makes Asura a timeless figure within the narrative. Jesus and Siddartha and Plato were all grounded in the material and mortal world. Not so with Asura. She is timeless and ageless; where Siddartha, Jesus, and Orionae are worn out, she is full of vigor and drive. Asura has a vitality -- no wonder she outlives the others.
But oh, is she a tragedy. The ending is truly sad. It's ambivalence, the emptiness, the knowledge that the foe she'd sought has already won. The sheer prospect of her quest's continuation and knowing she'll have to continue it alone. What does she have left to fight for? How can she do anything other than fight?
Let me touch on the SF-nal bits now. Nominally, this book falls under the heading of science-fiction, and Mitsuse makes use of genre tropes to mine the terror of deep time, the vast misery of grinding destruction that spans millennia. The sublime horror of thousands of years of hibernation. The existence of cyborgs and advanced tech seem like a cruel joke: no matter how fancy our toys, we cannot escape our essential nature. And for humans, that essential nature is a yearning for understanding that is easily manipulated, what seems to be a endless march toward self-annihilation. The fact that the main cast becomes cyborgs in their quest is a sign of the cost of their struggle. These enhancements, made mostly for destruction, were imposed by a greater power out of their control; in becoming more than human, they become closer to their adversaries' equals, and in so doing leave the humans and mortals they fight for further behind.
This is not a happy book.
It is also, I think, a particularly timely one. Asura, Siddartha, and Orionae struggle against a world that is guided by a seemingly unstoppable force of mind-numbing malice. Their ally is as high-handed as their enemy, while also being far less effective. And yet, the three of them fight on. They push themselves to the brink, fight, scream, and risk everything in their need to assert their right to exist in freedom and safety. I don't think you have to look far in the US to see how this might feel analogous to the current political situation, where every right and protection is under government assault.
Asura closes out the novel alone, yearning for happier times, knowing that there is nothing left for her but to keep moving in a universe that seems hopelessly empty and cruel. She's already rejected collaborating with the enemy. What other option does she have?
What indeed.
Contrasting all this is Mitsuse's lush and beautiful descriptions of the natural and material world, of sensations seen and felt. Every description is beautiful. Every sky, ever disintegrating remnant of a long-dead civilization. The immediacy and groundedness of his prose contrasts the incomprehensible and abstract notions of time, space, and technology that form the more sf-nal elements, a reminder that -- even though all these characters constantly look outward for truth and understanding -- there is much in the real world that deserves our attention and respect as well.
10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights is a bleak book with a terrible despair at its heart. But it's also a beautiful book, many small stories woven together in lovely vignettes that ground its grand, philosophical struggles. It is a question that lingers, in hope of an answer.
*
Seeing as this book is difficult to grapple with, I'm linking the roundtable that inspired me to pick it up in the first place. There is entirely too much hand-wringing over what genre it fits in, but the various takes and insights are interesting and helpful as a starting place for grappling with the novel. It's pretty milquetoast on the topic of religion, which, that seems strange considering three of four main characters are explicitly religious figures.
I can't speak to Mitsuse's beliefs, but it seems pretty clear to me that the novel is, at the very least, deeply skeptical about religion. The Atlanteans' fictional religion is explicitly described as a means created by the powerful for manipulating and controlling the populace. Why should Christianity and/or Buddhism be any different? Religion in this book is an ideological tool. It preys upon an earnest yearning to make sense of a capricious, opaque world in order to manipulate and control. Religion (and secular philosophy, as embodied by Plato/Orionae) can offer answers -- but, Mitsuse seems to ask, where are those answers coming from? What do the providers of these answers have to gain? Can they be trusted?
The answer, in 10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights, is terribly, sorrowfully, "no."
The elevator pitch of "Christ Versus Mecha-Buddha. In Space!" is what immediately drew my attention, but I was also drawn by the description of it as blending science-fiction and religious/mythical/historical fiction. I soon learned that the elevator pitch was both completely accurate and completely false.
Make no mistake: 10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights is a bleak, bleak book. And yet its bleakness and terror strike at me in a way I feel moved to visit and revisit, much as I regularly rewatch Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. I generally try to avoid reread reviews on this blog, but I have a lot of things to talk about, so I shall.
10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights has an core cast of larger-than-life figures: Prince Siddartha (yes, that Prince Siddartha), Jesus Christ, Plato. They are rendered in this novel as deeply human, united in their yearning to understand the world around them -- not just its material essence, but its true meaning and nature. In a world that seems full of cruelty and devoid of reason, their desire is understandable. The tragedy is that the gods they turn to for answers are remote and angry; not just indifferent, but full of malice. Plato may seem like an odd addition to this case of religious figures, but I think Plato is meant to represent a secular yearning for knowledge. His Allegory of the Cave isn't mentioned explicitly, but it's a core part of his philosophy and strongly associated with him. I can't believe that that wasn't lurking in the background of how and why Mitsuse chose him as part of his cast.
And then there's Asura. She is, by far, the most tragic of the characters, the ruthless driving heart. Her desperation and need to know and fight the forces that had destroyed her world. Her position as the adversary, locked in endless battle. In some ways her characterization matches recent pop culture depictions of Lucifer as not that bad after all, the reframing of the divine enemy as a hero by reframing the divine as villainous.
The choice to render Asura a teenage girl is a strange one now; I can't imagine how strange it would have been in the 1960s. She is the keen one, the intelligent one, the terrifying and ferocious warrior. She's also the oldest and most seasoned, the one with the greatest sense of what has been lost and what there is left to lose. I don't think Mitsuse's intent was the simple visual irony, but I think this juxtaposition of visual and narrative makes Asura a timeless figure within the narrative. Jesus and Siddartha and Plato were all grounded in the material and mortal world. Not so with Asura. She is timeless and ageless; where Siddartha, Jesus, and Orionae are worn out, she is full of vigor and drive. Asura has a vitality -- no wonder she outlives the others.
But oh, is she a tragedy. The ending is truly sad. It's ambivalence, the emptiness, the knowledge that the foe she'd sought has already won. The sheer prospect of her quest's continuation and knowing she'll have to continue it alone. What does she have left to fight for? How can she do anything other than fight?
Let me touch on the SF-nal bits now. Nominally, this book falls under the heading of science-fiction, and Mitsuse makes use of genre tropes to mine the terror of deep time, the vast misery of grinding destruction that spans millennia. The sublime horror of thousands of years of hibernation. The existence of cyborgs and advanced tech seem like a cruel joke: no matter how fancy our toys, we cannot escape our essential nature. And for humans, that essential nature is a yearning for understanding that is easily manipulated, what seems to be a endless march toward self-annihilation. The fact that the main cast becomes cyborgs in their quest is a sign of the cost of their struggle. These enhancements, made mostly for destruction, were imposed by a greater power out of their control; in becoming more than human, they become closer to their adversaries' equals, and in so doing leave the humans and mortals they fight for further behind.
This is not a happy book.
It is also, I think, a particularly timely one. Asura, Siddartha, and Orionae struggle against a world that is guided by a seemingly unstoppable force of mind-numbing malice. Their ally is as high-handed as their enemy, while also being far less effective. And yet, the three of them fight on. They push themselves to the brink, fight, scream, and risk everything in their need to assert their right to exist in freedom and safety. I don't think you have to look far in the US to see how this might feel analogous to the current political situation, where every right and protection is under government assault.
Asura closes out the novel alone, yearning for happier times, knowing that there is nothing left for her but to keep moving in a universe that seems hopelessly empty and cruel. She's already rejected collaborating with the enemy. What other option does she have?
What indeed.
Contrasting all this is Mitsuse's lush and beautiful descriptions of the natural and material world, of sensations seen and felt. Every description is beautiful. Every sky, ever disintegrating remnant of a long-dead civilization. The immediacy and groundedness of his prose contrasts the incomprehensible and abstract notions of time, space, and technology that form the more sf-nal elements, a reminder that -- even though all these characters constantly look outward for truth and understanding -- there is much in the real world that deserves our attention and respect as well.
10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights is a bleak book with a terrible despair at its heart. But it's also a beautiful book, many small stories woven together in lovely vignettes that ground its grand, philosophical struggles. It is a question that lingers, in hope of an answer.
*
Seeing as this book is difficult to grapple with, I'm linking the roundtable that inspired me to pick it up in the first place. There is entirely too much hand-wringing over what genre it fits in, but the various takes and insights are interesting and helpful as a starting place for grappling with the novel. It's pretty milquetoast on the topic of religion, which, that seems strange considering three of four main characters are explicitly religious figures.
I can't speak to Mitsuse's beliefs, but it seems pretty clear to me that the novel is, at the very least, deeply skeptical about religion. The Atlanteans' fictional religion is explicitly described as a means created by the powerful for manipulating and controlling the populace. Why should Christianity and/or Buddhism be any different? Religion in this book is an ideological tool. It preys upon an earnest yearning to make sense of a capricious, opaque world in order to manipulate and control. Religion (and secular philosophy, as embodied by Plato/Orionae) can offer answers -- but, Mitsuse seems to ask, where are those answers coming from? What do the providers of these answers have to gain? Can they be trusted?
The answer, in 10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights, is terribly, sorrowfully, "no."
September 28, 2014
To say this book starts promising is to understate the case. The centerpiece of the book -- a cyborg Buddha battling Jesus with masers and other energy weapons -- is genus. But, beginning with the end of that fight (a literal deus ex mechina), about halfway through, the book become an unintelligible exploration of the death of the world, the Galaxy, other galaxies, the universe, with the breathlessness of Japanese manga. I kept expecting there to be a reason one of the three characters was female, but nothing turned on it at all. You know, somehow, that it has something to do with the creator and the Big Bang, but even after reading the afterward, for the life of me, I've no clue how.
July 10, 2022
Hmmm… how do I review this book fairly, succinctly, and without spoilers? Well, let me give it a go: It’s interesting, great fun at times, and keeps you turning the pages. But the story is, um, how I should I say… insane. I mean Rudy-Giuliani-on-peyote insane. I’m giving it three stars simply for the author’s sheer nutball creativity.
April 23, 2024
This novel is so beautifully written, and the scope of it is so compelling, but none of this will save a book from being so antagonistic to another culture's religion. I have read or watched manga, Japanese lit, or anime in which Christianity is depicted as a complicated system. And in general I can get past it. But not this. Super robot Jesus and his god trying to destroy the world through heat death? Sorry, no. If you use historical characters, then you can't just change their entire personality and message to fit your plot.
Being "weird" isn't enough to make a good story. Cyborg Siddhartha isn't "cool" because oh man, who would have thought of that! Writing a story that takes place over 5.7 billion years isn't automatically good because that's a long time. You need to do something with all that, not just have them throw fireballs at each other. Good literature should be more than this.
Being "weird" isn't enough to make a good story. Cyborg Siddhartha isn't "cool" because oh man, who would have thought of that! Writing a story that takes place over 5.7 billion years isn't automatically good because that's a long time. You need to do something with all that, not just have them throw fireballs at each other. Good literature should be more than this.
May 5, 2013
This book begins with The Big Bang, a theory on early development of the Universe, it follows with the few episodes in history where Ryu Mitsuse blends Philosophy, religion and eventually our author moves to rock-hard science fiction to answer the beginning of The Big Bang.
In Philosophy
Ryu Mitsuse narrates the episode of Plato’s quest towards a legendary island of Atlantis, where like all of us Plato is is also confused on each and everything which we see around us like:
Who planted groves of trees and taught the people how to gather their fruit and cultivate their seeds? Who built roads and towns, waterways and aqueducts? Who showed the people the art of metallurgy, the smelting of iron?
In Religion
Siddhārtha’s journey towards Brahmā and Jesus of Nazarath episode with Pontius Pilatus followed with Crucifixion of Jesus.
In all this the common element is the anticipation for a new world a new beginning: Plato wanted his Ideal State , Siddhartha waited for the Age of Enlightenment , Jesus of Nazareth awaited for final judgment and kingdom of God.
By all this Ryu Mitsuse proves search for the beginning of The Big Bang is vain or simply dilemma… causality dilemma is commonly stated as "which came first, the chicken or the egg?" and moves towards rock-hard science fiction where we see Cyborgs, which we never expects Cyborgs of Jesus, Plato and Siddhartha.
Gun fight with Plato, Siddartha, and Jesus. This all things were awesome but the inclusion of Asura a King of kings or Absolute being I couldn’t comprehend…might be beyond my comprehension. I searched for the meaning for the usage of Asura as King of kings or Absolute being, I found in Sanskrit “ásu” denotes "life force" it might be the reason.
In some reviews I saw readers stating this books tells about an alien influence on the growth and development of humanity but I felt Ryu Mitsuse illustrated the concept of an unconditional reality which we call with alternate term for "God" the Absolute power who controls the whole universe.
In Philosophy
Ryu Mitsuse narrates the episode of Plato’s quest towards a legendary island of Atlantis, where like all of us Plato is is also confused on each and everything which we see around us like:
Who planted groves of trees and taught the people how to gather their fruit and cultivate their seeds? Who built roads and towns, waterways and aqueducts? Who showed the people the art of metallurgy, the smelting of iron?
In Religion
Siddhārtha’s journey towards Brahmā and Jesus of Nazarath episode with Pontius Pilatus followed with Crucifixion of Jesus.
In all this the common element is the anticipation for a new world a new beginning: Plato wanted his Ideal State , Siddhartha waited for the Age of Enlightenment , Jesus of Nazareth awaited for final judgment and kingdom of God.
By all this Ryu Mitsuse proves search for the beginning of The Big Bang is vain or simply dilemma… causality dilemma is commonly stated as "which came first, the chicken or the egg?" and moves towards rock-hard science fiction where we see Cyborgs, which we never expects Cyborgs of Jesus, Plato and Siddhartha.
Gun fight with Plato, Siddartha, and Jesus. This all things were awesome but the inclusion of Asura a King of kings or Absolute being I couldn’t comprehend…might be beyond my comprehension. I searched for the meaning for the usage of Asura as King of kings or Absolute being, I found in Sanskrit “ásu” denotes "life force" it might be the reason.
In some reviews I saw readers stating this books tells about an alien influence on the growth and development of humanity but I felt Ryu Mitsuse illustrated the concept of an unconditional reality which we call with alternate term for "God" the Absolute power who controls the whole universe.
March 30, 2017
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I really don't know what to make of this. 2.5?
Several episodes through the life of our planet are told - Plato looks for Atlantis, Jesus is crucified, Siddharta leaves his palace and meets Asura, but then it becomes apparent that there's a Planetary Development Committee behind all of this and these episodes become connected, mankind is destroyed, a few million years later Jesus, Siddharta, Asura, have for some reason become cyborgs who can launch nuclear rockets from their hands and battle it out. Siddharta, Orionae and Asura try to stop the shadowy organization that destroyed mankind, while Jesus works for the bad guys. Asura becomes a galaxy or something.
The disjointed structure makes it a surprisingly dry read, for a book where space-mecha fights are a thing; you get ridiculous tech-babble like "Orionae wrapped the coil in several gravitationally sealed spaces. You have to maintain the link to the Dirac sea in an imaginary numeric circuit"; there's a special melancholy towards the end (Mono no aware) that saves some of it, but I really wonder whether it's worth it to slog so far, felt much longer than 284 pages.
Bonus points for that interesting Mamoru Oshii essay at the end - who knew the creator of the Ghost In The Shell movies used to be part of the extreme left, trying to subvert society?
I really don't know what to make of this. 2.5?
Several episodes through the life of our planet are told - Plato looks for Atlantis, Jesus is crucified, Siddharta leaves his palace and meets Asura, but then it becomes apparent that there's a Planetary Development Committee behind all of this and these episodes become connected, mankind is destroyed, a few million years later Jesus, Siddharta, Asura, have for some reason become cyborgs who can launch nuclear rockets from their hands and battle it out. Siddharta, Orionae and Asura try to stop the shadowy organization that destroyed mankind, while Jesus works for the bad guys. Asura becomes a galaxy or something.
The disjointed structure makes it a surprisingly dry read, for a book where space-mecha fights are a thing; you get ridiculous tech-babble like "Orionae wrapped the coil in several gravitationally sealed spaces. You have to maintain the link to the Dirac sea in an imaginary numeric circuit"; there's a special melancholy towards the end (Mono no aware) that saves some of it, but I really wonder whether it's worth it to slog so far, felt much longer than 284 pages.
Bonus points for that interesting Mamoru Oshii essay at the end - who knew the creator of the Ghost In The Shell movies used to be part of the extreme left, trying to subvert society?
August 23, 2020
Written in the 60's, this is a classic read.
A second reading and it's still a classic.
A second reading and it's still a classic.
July 7, 2012
This is a difficult one to rate. I feel like some of it was a little over my head. I'm not sure if that was a problem with translation or my thick skull. Probably the latter, since I found the prose to be quite good. The translator actually deserves a great amount of praise for doing such a nice job.
The book is very metaphysical. It covers a lot of big questions like "what are the boundaries of time and space?", "what lies beyond the boundaries of our universe?", "why does everything decay?" But the book doesn't give you an omnipotent view of what's happening. I felt as confused about the events as the characters in it. Even the end left me feeling a little confused about what I just read. Ultimately, I believe the book is about the struggle between life and entropy.
However, don't let my confusion or description of its themes make you think this is some slow-moving and boring philosophy book disguised as a sci-fi novel. There is plenty of action in this book, and it's of a very wild nature. There is a rather long chase in which Jesus of Nazareth is using a maser (that's right a maser, not a laser) to hunt Siddhartha (aka Buddha) who retaliates with mini-nuclear missiles (he has been "reincarnated" as a cyborg). There's something you don't read every day!
Overall, the book is a good, quick read, that will leave you thinking about big questions.
The book is very metaphysical. It covers a lot of big questions like "what are the boundaries of time and space?", "what lies beyond the boundaries of our universe?", "why does everything decay?" But the book doesn't give you an omnipotent view of what's happening. I felt as confused about the events as the characters in it. Even the end left me feeling a little confused about what I just read. Ultimately, I believe the book is about the struggle between life and entropy.
However, don't let my confusion or description of its themes make you think this is some slow-moving and boring philosophy book disguised as a sci-fi novel. There is plenty of action in this book, and it's of a very wild nature. There is a rather long chase in which Jesus of Nazareth is using a maser (that's right a maser, not a laser) to hunt Siddhartha (aka Buddha) who retaliates with mini-nuclear missiles (he has been "reincarnated" as a cyborg). There's something you don't read every day!
Overall, the book is a good, quick read, that will leave you thinking about big questions.
January 30, 2017
Fantastic. The first twenty pages or so are lyrical, stunning, with a spare, lonely view of the history of our world. Then Atlantis, Jesus, and Buddha show up and get it on, but I won't spoil it for you. This book, like all the best ones, leaves you with more questions than answers.
I read the book in translation, not the original Japanese. The translator happens to be a friend of mine, and here he has done a wonderful job.
In his afterword, the author cites Clarke, Simak, and van Vogt at influences, but I feel echoes of Wells' Time Machine, Asimov's Last Question, and even Anderson's Tau Zero, but perhaps most of all Zelany's Lord of Light, though it has been many years since I read any of those. It is most certainly its own unique story, though, not derivative of anything.
The blurb calls it Japan's greatest SF novel, and it is great, but personally I would put it behind Toh's Self-Reference Engine. I have read very little Japanese SF. though, so I really don't have a lot of context.
I read the book in translation, not the original Japanese. The translator happens to be a friend of mine, and here he has done a wonderful job.
In his afterword, the author cites Clarke, Simak, and van Vogt at influences, but I feel echoes of Wells' Time Machine, Asimov's Last Question, and even Anderson's Tau Zero, but perhaps most of all Zelany's Lord of Light, though it has been many years since I read any of those. It is most certainly its own unique story, though, not derivative of anything.
The blurb calls it Japan's greatest SF novel, and it is great, but personally I would put it behind Toh's Self-Reference Engine. I have read very little Japanese SF. though, so I really don't have a lot of context.
October 13, 2012
Reminiscent of great works like "Last and First Men" by Olaf Stapledon, "Ten Billion Days" is a work of late 60s epic (truly epic-scaled) science fiction tackling huge ideas with enthusiasm and abandon. This book marks the first time I've read a book with Plato, Siddhartha and Jesus as the major characters. Probably not for the a reader who struggles with the "just go with it" requirements built into sci-fi. What makes the book particularly powerful to me is this idea that there is more to the universe than we can possibly contemplate, but there is still more beyond it.
March 13, 2016
A fun read full of very vivid sci fi imagery and Evangelion-level existential weirdness. The only real complaint I can make is that some of the action was difficult to visualize, and had a kinetic quality that text alone may not be the ideal medium for. However, it was a perfect medium for bringing the reader along for the ride of certain surprising discoveries about various characters throughout the unfolding of the story. Very enjoyable overall.
August 29, 2013
Este livro foi a minha introdução à FC japonesa e confesso que me está a ser difícil escrever sobre ele. Por onde começar? Não sabia o que esperar quando peguei no livro. Apenas sabia que ia muito mais longe do que a habitual metáfora de robots e cyberpunk condicionada pela popularidade do manga. Depois de o ler percebi que este livro desafia classificações e ultrapassa fronteiras entre vertentes do género.
Não é uma leitura fácil, apesar da capacidade narrativa do autor ser capaz de conjurar imagens mentais de grande clareza. Surpreende pela sua não linearidade e intencional falta de um objectivo narrativo claro. Quando pensamos que temos o livro sob controlo, que o cérebro já deslindou o caminho das palavras, o autor troca-nos as voltas e muda os espaços e tempos. Há apenas um eterno conflito, intemporal mas inconclusivo, que obriga as personagens a uma odisseia contínua sem fim à vista. Termina de uma forma inquietante e bela, deixando claro que é apenas uma pausa e não um término de uma longa história. Mas é um ponto final e não há qualquer continuidade para aliviar as questões do leitor.
A sensibilidade literária é muito diferente da que estamos habituados na FC de linhagem europeia ou americana. Não se sente aquela versão contemporânea do fardo do homem branco que vê na ciência e tecnologia a salvação da pureza humana nem a crença inabalável no poder do indivíduo
face aos destinos ou às forças conspiratórias. Sente-se antes uma fluidez de destino em fluxo e uma procura por visões estranhas que vão além daquilo que percepcionamos. O livro não é novo - a publicação original data dos anos 60, mas estes aspectos são um sopro de ar fresco para os leitores. É algo de diferente e inesperado.
Vamos então à história? Esperem o inesperado. Ryu Mitsuse inspira-se na antiguidade clássica e nos mitos sobre a Atlântida para este livro de nome tão comprido. Começamos com Platão, cuja viagem ao Egipto lhe ensina mais do que as lendas dos sacerdotes do faraó. Albergado numa casa onde rostos falantes surgem nas janelas cobertas de materiais transparentes e onde achaques de saúde depressa são curados com misteriosas substâncias, é-lhe confiada a história de um tempo antes do tempo, de uma cidade no meio do oceano onde reinava uma classe científica esclarecida que se aniquilou com a sua técnica após estranhas divergências que degeneraram em tumultos. Resta aos sobreviventes milenares espalharem pelo resto do mundo a civilização, semeando as bases do progresso científico, e resta a Platão meditar sobre o que vislumbrou
Deixamos Platão a matutar e somos levados à Índia, onde um jovem Siddharta decide abandonar o reino de que é herdeiro, mesmo que isso custe partir o coração do pai e da amada e abandonar o país a uma invasão do reino vizinho. Influenciado por quatro brâmanes, o jovem príncipe parte e retira-se do mundo. Nós não o acompanhamos. Estamos em Jerusalém, no ano de 33DC, onde um Pôncio Pilatos farto das dificuldades de gerir um posto menor do império cede facilmente às exigências dos sacerdotes judaicos atemorizados pela palavra de um homem que prega uma vida melhor para lá dos limites da vida. E assim se processa a crucificação de Jesus, homem iluminado que Pilatos é incapaz de compreender. No momento da crucificação o céu escurece, luzes surgem e o corpo é resgatado para os céus.
Da antiguidade clássica vamos até ao futuro distante. Sob as ruínas de Tóquio o ainda jovem Siddharta encontra Orionae, um guardião milenar do segredo atlante que o aguardou através dos tempos. São atacados por um Jesus Cristo com implantes robóticos e Siddharta descobre que também é mais do que humano, o que ajuda a perceber como é que ultrapassou os milénios. Já Orionae é um andróide de longa duração. A discussão teológica ecuménica entre os fundadores do budismo e o do cristianismo processa-se com lasers de alta intensidade e mísseis teleguiados. Mas a luta é inconclusiva, e Siddharta acompanhado pelo andróide penetra num portal que o leva para além da Terra em busca dos segredos da Altântida. Noutro planeta, numa galáxia distante, a reposta a todas as questões parece estar encerrada numa cidade que se revela como o repositório da digitalização dos habitantes, adormecidos e imortalizados por medo a uma ameaça cataclísmica. Não é aí que se encontram as repostas que procuram.
Mas uma parte do segredo começa a deslindar-se. A vida na Terra foi - passe a expressão - uma experiência de terraformação levada a cabo por equipes de cientistas de uma civilização situada para lá das fronteiras do universo. A Atlântida era o seu centro de operações onde baseavam a sua tecnologia inimaginável que permitiu o desenvolvimento de vida no planeta. Até que chegaram ordens inexplicadas para terminar a experiência. Se uns obedecem, outros questionam e nos tumultos resultantes dá-se o cataclisma que inspirou as lendas. Resta a Siddharta e ao fiel Orionae, agora acompanhados por Asura, uma aparente divindade de grande poder e origem desconhecida, continuar a sua busca por Maitreya, entidade que vive para lá do universo e que detém a chave para compreender os mistérios da criação e destruição da vida na Terra. Prosseguem a busca, com um mortífero Jesus sempre à perna, pronto para os exterminar com pulsos de laser de plasma e ogivas de mísseis inteligentes.
A ideia de astronautas alienígenas que supostamente teriam influenciado a vida e a civilização na Terra primordial não é nova. Hoje ganhou nova energia, graças aos esforços de canais televisivos em busca de audiência. Este livro inspira-se claramente nesse ideário como fonte para especulação narrativa. A ideia de divindades que são humanos com potenciamentos tecnológicos é o fio condutor de Lord of Light. Na minha mente pergunto-me se as teorias aparvalhadas de Von Däniken e o livro inimitável de Zelazny foram factores de influência neste livro nipónico que lhes é contemporâneo. É uma ideia, mas não uma afirmação. O que se encontra sobre esta obra fica-se pela indicação de que se trata de um dos grandes clássicos da literatura de ficção científica japonesa. Após a leitura, o que fica é o gosto pelo conhecer uma outra tradição literária com visões diferentes do habitual sobre as temáticas do género e uma sensibilidade narrativa que aos calejados olhos ocidentais se sente como estranha.
Não é uma leitura fácil, apesar da capacidade narrativa do autor ser capaz de conjurar imagens mentais de grande clareza. Surpreende pela sua não linearidade e intencional falta de um objectivo narrativo claro. Quando pensamos que temos o livro sob controlo, que o cérebro já deslindou o caminho das palavras, o autor troca-nos as voltas e muda os espaços e tempos. Há apenas um eterno conflito, intemporal mas inconclusivo, que obriga as personagens a uma odisseia contínua sem fim à vista. Termina de uma forma inquietante e bela, deixando claro que é apenas uma pausa e não um término de uma longa história. Mas é um ponto final e não há qualquer continuidade para aliviar as questões do leitor.
A sensibilidade literária é muito diferente da que estamos habituados na FC de linhagem europeia ou americana. Não se sente aquela versão contemporânea do fardo do homem branco que vê na ciência e tecnologia a salvação da pureza humana nem a crença inabalável no poder do indivíduo
face aos destinos ou às forças conspiratórias. Sente-se antes uma fluidez de destino em fluxo e uma procura por visões estranhas que vão além daquilo que percepcionamos. O livro não é novo - a publicação original data dos anos 60, mas estes aspectos são um sopro de ar fresco para os leitores. É algo de diferente e inesperado.
Vamos então à história? Esperem o inesperado. Ryu Mitsuse inspira-se na antiguidade clássica e nos mitos sobre a Atlântida para este livro de nome tão comprido. Começamos com Platão, cuja viagem ao Egipto lhe ensina mais do que as lendas dos sacerdotes do faraó. Albergado numa casa onde rostos falantes surgem nas janelas cobertas de materiais transparentes e onde achaques de saúde depressa são curados com misteriosas substâncias, é-lhe confiada a história de um tempo antes do tempo, de uma cidade no meio do oceano onde reinava uma classe científica esclarecida que se aniquilou com a sua técnica após estranhas divergências que degeneraram em tumultos. Resta aos sobreviventes milenares espalharem pelo resto do mundo a civilização, semeando as bases do progresso científico, e resta a Platão meditar sobre o que vislumbrou
Deixamos Platão a matutar e somos levados à Índia, onde um jovem Siddharta decide abandonar o reino de que é herdeiro, mesmo que isso custe partir o coração do pai e da amada e abandonar o país a uma invasão do reino vizinho. Influenciado por quatro brâmanes, o jovem príncipe parte e retira-se do mundo. Nós não o acompanhamos. Estamos em Jerusalém, no ano de 33DC, onde um Pôncio Pilatos farto das dificuldades de gerir um posto menor do império cede facilmente às exigências dos sacerdotes judaicos atemorizados pela palavra de um homem que prega uma vida melhor para lá dos limites da vida. E assim se processa a crucificação de Jesus, homem iluminado que Pilatos é incapaz de compreender. No momento da crucificação o céu escurece, luzes surgem e o corpo é resgatado para os céus.
Da antiguidade clássica vamos até ao futuro distante. Sob as ruínas de Tóquio o ainda jovem Siddharta encontra Orionae, um guardião milenar do segredo atlante que o aguardou através dos tempos. São atacados por um Jesus Cristo com implantes robóticos e Siddharta descobre que também é mais do que humano, o que ajuda a perceber como é que ultrapassou os milénios. Já Orionae é um andróide de longa duração. A discussão teológica ecuménica entre os fundadores do budismo e o do cristianismo processa-se com lasers de alta intensidade e mísseis teleguiados. Mas a luta é inconclusiva, e Siddharta acompanhado pelo andróide penetra num portal que o leva para além da Terra em busca dos segredos da Altântida. Noutro planeta, numa galáxia distante, a reposta a todas as questões parece estar encerrada numa cidade que se revela como o repositório da digitalização dos habitantes, adormecidos e imortalizados por medo a uma ameaça cataclísmica. Não é aí que se encontram as repostas que procuram.
Mas uma parte do segredo começa a deslindar-se. A vida na Terra foi - passe a expressão - uma experiência de terraformação levada a cabo por equipes de cientistas de uma civilização situada para lá das fronteiras do universo. A Atlântida era o seu centro de operações onde baseavam a sua tecnologia inimaginável que permitiu o desenvolvimento de vida no planeta. Até que chegaram ordens inexplicadas para terminar a experiência. Se uns obedecem, outros questionam e nos tumultos resultantes dá-se o cataclisma que inspirou as lendas. Resta a Siddharta e ao fiel Orionae, agora acompanhados por Asura, uma aparente divindade de grande poder e origem desconhecida, continuar a sua busca por Maitreya, entidade que vive para lá do universo e que detém a chave para compreender os mistérios da criação e destruição da vida na Terra. Prosseguem a busca, com um mortífero Jesus sempre à perna, pronto para os exterminar com pulsos de laser de plasma e ogivas de mísseis inteligentes.
A ideia de astronautas alienígenas que supostamente teriam influenciado a vida e a civilização na Terra primordial não é nova. Hoje ganhou nova energia, graças aos esforços de canais televisivos em busca de audiência. Este livro inspira-se claramente nesse ideário como fonte para especulação narrativa. A ideia de divindades que são humanos com potenciamentos tecnológicos é o fio condutor de Lord of Light. Na minha mente pergunto-me se as teorias aparvalhadas de Von Däniken e o livro inimitável de Zelazny foram factores de influência neste livro nipónico que lhes é contemporâneo. É uma ideia, mas não uma afirmação. O que se encontra sobre esta obra fica-se pela indicação de que se trata de um dos grandes clássicos da literatura de ficção científica japonesa. Após a leitura, o que fica é o gosto pelo conhecer uma outra tradição literária com visões diferentes do habitual sobre as temáticas do género e uma sensibilidade narrativa que aos calejados olhos ocidentais se sente como estranha.
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April 12, 2020I really liked this book despite it being so strange that I didn't understand all parts of it. It essentially question where the universe has come from, mentioning the big bang, and where it might possibly go. I've never encountered characters or indeed world building quite like this though would be quite happy to encounter again in the future. I will have to investigate what else Ryu Mitsuse has written after this and see what the feel of his other writing might be.
August 3, 2020
6/10
This book was, for lack of a better word, wack. I think I liked it. Maybe. Historical philosophical futuristic Japanese sci-fi. This book was all of those things. Sometimes it dragged on, but it was interesting and surprising and creative and made me think.
I wish my sci-fi book club would have agreed to read it the numerous times I presented it. I think it could have made for some great conversation.
This book was, for lack of a better word, wack. I think I liked it. Maybe. Historical philosophical futuristic Japanese sci-fi. This book was all of those things. Sometimes it dragged on, but it was interesting and surprising and creative and made me think.
I wish my sci-fi book club would have agreed to read it the numerous times I presented it. I think it could have made for some great conversation.
June 21, 2021
2 stars, feeling generous. The premise had potential with philosophers, cosmology and all, but the style was too boring and the plot lacked any promise or hook. Quiting was the only way to put myself out of misery.
November 6, 2022
Unlike anything I’ve read before. Painted strange, beautiful pictures in my mind. When my friend told me there was a scene in the book where Jesus has a laser gun battle with Buddha, I knew I had to read it haha.
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April 16, 2024i’m not gonna rate this one because: a) i didn’t actually finish it and b) i was reading it (or, to be more precise, was trying to read it) during very busy and stressful period of my life, so my attention was always somewhere else. but it’s definitely weird. that’s all i can say for sure.
November 21, 2020
very poetic imagery and beautiful language.
December 31, 2021
A refreshing take on science fiction. Cyborg Socrates is as epic as he sounds. The young-adult-esque translation didnt do the japanese story its due though ://
July 7, 2013
If I had to compare 10 Billion Days and 100 Billion Nights to any other book that I have read it would be Roger Zelazny's Creatures of Light and Darkness. Both are nominally science fiction in which the "science" hardly counts as such. Both revolve around a retelling of myths in a modern casting, Zelazny with the Egyptian pantheon and Mitsuse with both Christ and the Buddha as well as using Plato in a mythological way. Both are told in a non-linear, at times almost hallucinatory, fashion. And I found both of them to be more annoying than compelling. Perhaps this just means that I should try to find some other works by Ryu Mitsuse, since there is plenty of Zelazny I like; in fact, I am a big fan of his Lord of Light, which is his own recasting of the Buddha.
I suppose that, on some level, it's pretty awesome to have a story in which a cyborg Jesus of Nazareth is hunting down a cyborg Siddhartha and shooting at him with lasers but that just can't carry the novel. Beyond that there just isn't very much here.
Mitsuse throws lots of scientific terms into the story but it's complete gobbledegook without meaning. Planets are hidden behind "the light-speed barrier", for instance. So, when reading, you have to turn all of your science knowledge off and just treat the book as fantasy. It seems that it isn't so much that Mitsuse is wrong as that he doesn't intend to be literal at all as a part of his mythological structure. How you will react to that depends upon your willingness to take scientific sounding statements as metaphor.
That, I think, gets to my ultimate problem with the story. I am fine with metaphor in a limited way but not when that's all that an author has to sell. In the end I just end up feeling that there is no substance to the novel. There are no characters as such, just the mythological recreations of them. Several of the characters, Plato, Christ and Pontius Pilate, have some depth when their myths are being retold but that all washes out in the second half of the book which takes place in the distant future. They exist only to have things happen to them and to explicitly state the nature of the universe.
It is the sort of book that a lot of people will describe as subtle but that I find to be anything but. I mostly found it to be a waste of time.
I suppose that, on some level, it's pretty awesome to have a story in which a cyborg Jesus of Nazareth is hunting down a cyborg Siddhartha and shooting at him with lasers but that just can't carry the novel. Beyond that there just isn't very much here.
Mitsuse throws lots of scientific terms into the story but it's complete gobbledegook without meaning. Planets are hidden behind "the light-speed barrier", for instance. So, when reading, you have to turn all of your science knowledge off and just treat the book as fantasy. It seems that it isn't so much that Mitsuse is wrong as that he doesn't intend to be literal at all as a part of his mythological structure. How you will react to that depends upon your willingness to take scientific sounding statements as metaphor.
That, I think, gets to my ultimate problem with the story. I am fine with metaphor in a limited way but not when that's all that an author has to sell. In the end I just end up feeling that there is no substance to the novel. There are no characters as such, just the mythological recreations of them. Several of the characters, Plato, Christ and Pontius Pilate, have some depth when their myths are being retold but that all washes out in the second half of the book which takes place in the distant future. They exist only to have things happen to them and to explicitly state the nature of the universe.
It is the sort of book that a lot of people will describe as subtle but that I find to be anything but. I mostly found it to be a waste of time.
August 12, 2017
So far, despite all the hype about being Japan's greatest sci fi book, I have found the book a complete disappointment. It has turned some of humanity's greatest human beings into rather pedestrian depictions.
It took a fantastic premise, bringing religious/spiritual founders to the end of the Universe, and rather write contemplatively about it, it turned it the story into a near western-like shoot out at the OK corral.
After forcing myself to the final 75 pages, I just could not put up with it anymore. This book sucks. There I said it.
It took a fantastic premise, bringing religious/spiritual founders to the end of the Universe, and rather write contemplatively about it, it turned it the story into a near western-like shoot out at the OK corral.
After forcing myself to the final 75 pages, I just could not put up with it anymore. This book sucks. There I said it.
May 10, 2012
I really wanted to like this more. The ideas in this book get four stars just for weirdness and the whole Siddartha and Asura fighting Jesus at the end of the world idea. Plus, the philosophies are really deep and intriguing.
But the writing... I think it was probably a translating issue - very choppy, almost unnatural phrasings and scientifically clinical writing. Nothing was pretty about it. It didn't flow very well. It had that kind of feel - that someone was literally translating the words without a focus on how they came across in English. The writing itself gets two stars. Wish it had been written better, because I'd love to share the ideas in this book with other people...
But the writing... I think it was probably a translating issue - very choppy, almost unnatural phrasings and scientifically clinical writing. Nothing was pretty about it. It didn't flow very well. It had that kind of feel - that someone was literally translating the words without a focus on how they came across in English. The writing itself gets two stars. Wish it had been written better, because I'd love to share the ideas in this book with other people...
April 29, 2015
Dazzling in it's meticulous interweaving of time and space, creation and destruction, mission and observation, this book relentlessly rips open the pinhole perspective of the readers mind to reveal layer upon layer of outer realities which may or may not actually exist. The effect is disorienting and leaves one not quite sure of the solidity of 'self' or 'soul'.
I think this book will haunt the dark caverns of my subconscious like some kind of warped mantra warning me to keep waking up...
I think this book will haunt the dark caverns of my subconscious like some kind of warped mantra warning me to keep waking up...
January 7, 2012
Boring. Too much "flashing lights" and "glowing lights". Some what interesting characters, Plato, Siddhartha, Jesus, Asura. Would not recommend.
August 13, 2013
An incredible read. Loved the way traditional myth was reimagined, and immensely liked the entwining timelines. Existentialism doesn't get better than this.
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