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Airframe |MY|TWO|CENTS|

I have always enjoyed novels written by Michael Crichton. His writing style is very captivating because he writes with technicality through block of thoughts and actions, inserts random raw data (which I love the most, it is very hard to understand raw data but it is self-satisfying afterwards that you can finally do a lecture about it) into his works to make the readers believe it is real, but just enough for you to stay.

Airframe was no exception for being very Crichton.

I can’t believe how Michael Crichton played with several issues. All things touch other issues. This issues includes internal labor management, corporate politics/players, local regulations, international problems and the role of media. This is something that you will read when you are bored.

Airframe is wonderful, that is without any doubt. And if not for the way Crichton moves through stories I would not be able to read this book with ease and with let up. It was never a problem. But at the end, Mr. Crichton showed his fossilized weakness, that his charcaters are not too shallow to have thought processes, that they don’t have any difference with computers and other machines, that they are binary simpletons who either know or don’t know, either understand or are stupid.
It should have been a quoteless book without this line: “Emotionally [engineers], they’re all 13 years old, stuck at the age just before boys stop playing with toys, because they’ve discovered girls. They’re all still playing with toys. They have poor social skills, dress badly – but they’re extremeley intelligent and well trained, and they are very arrogant in their way. Outsiders are definitely not allowed to play.”
I enjoyed reading Airframe every minute of it.

If you’re a Crichton fan, then this one is a real throw up.

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