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Ten pages from the end, sitting at a bar, the bartender asked me: "Are you one of those people who reads the last sentence of a book before they start it, to see if it'll live up to your expectations?"

Uh, say what? I thought. Is that a common practice? Seriously? "No," I replied, "but I can see it might be kinda interesting."

"Yeah," he said, "but it's a pretty big spoiler alert. It can really ruin it."

Digesting that bit of logic, I finished the book, my wine, and the bartender brought the credit card machine over. "You know," I said, struck with utopian-dystopian visions, fully sincere: "I'm really glad I didn't read the last sentence first for this book. It would have completely ruined it." The bartender nodded knowingly.


Endings, in the same vein of logic as my friendly bartender's, can make or break an entire book. The last sentence, though, usually isn't given quite that much credit -- that is, until you're reading someone like Huxley, who is all about the "show don't tell" of literature. Then, every phrase has weight: the first and last sentences more than anything. I was debating my star rating right up until those last few words: 3? 4? And then, sharply, it all finally clicks. Because I don't want to spoil you, because Huxley is best served fresh and read with snarky, attentive eyes, I won't say anything about the last sentence EXCEPT: everything is a circle, and it all comes back around.

Island is more philosophy than novel. Early on, Huxley hangs a lantern on its Erewhon influence: stumble across a weird and isolated society, hear about its utopian elements one by one, the reader must reflect on how garbage their own society is. Done and done.

It's a counterpoint to Brave New World in quite a few ways: ideology (utopia, not dystopia); plot (little to none); theme (potential, not despair); drug amiability (lots). The Eastern-religion influence is massive, and it's clear this was written post-Doors. While that can be a little infuriating at times (like........I get it. Psychedelics bro. Radical. You're not more aware of the universe because you got high, man.), it's Huxley, so there's thoughtful rationale behind it. While none of what I read seemed particularly new, that's not necessarily the fault of the book: it compiles a lot of interesting social possibilities in a fairly unique manner. It smacks of Huxley rethinking some of his fears regarding the world of Our Ford. Soma and sex? Maybe not so bad, as long as they're not mindless...

That's the crux of this book, really -- mindfulness. Worth a read, times twelve, if only to get to the last sentence and see where he was heading. Just don't read it first. Or do. Maybe it won't matter. We all get there in the end.

(shrooms might help though)