The best thing about Otherland is its scope, at least in regard to content. Although mostly sci-fi of the cyberpunk kind, it also leans toward fantasy at parts, and the story—one of the more plausible ones in science fiction—recalls motifs from mystery or spy genres. Speaking of story, there are at least four of them—including an additional palette of small but significant sub-stories—all wrapped up in a complex, juicy plot that is one of the novel's greatest strengths. Of the numerous plot lines, there's Renie, a teacher whose younger brother is struck down by a mysterious illness. She suspects the illness is connected in some way to the vast, global VR network, but in her attempt to find a way to rescue her brother she ventures deeper and deeper into the heart of a terrible conspiracy. Meanwhile there's Paul, a World War I soldier who seems stranded in time and space—he continually leaps from one world to another, not knowing when in time or where he is, but continually haunted by recurring images and constantly being pursued by terrifying agents of unknown purpose. Then there's Orlando, a fourteen-year old net gamer who stumbles for a split second upon a golden city in the midst of one of his games that appears too real to be simulated.

Tad Williams' control over his prose is astounding, especially when considering the material he had to deal with. There are very, very few lapses of originality, and for the most part the writing style is fluid, beautiful, and with a pervasive feeling of mature restraint and subtlety. Williams' deliciously ironic sense of humour also comes across well such that the story, while dark and often frightening, doesn't feel oppressive at all. A particular example is manifest in his description of war: "Paul Jonas was in hell—but it was a very special hell. Not everyone in it was dead yet."

Williams also managed to fabricate the story perfectly, and all it takes for a reader to be rewarded is a little patience. This is one of those books where it's impossible to guess where everything's going to lead, but where there's enough to grasp that you still want to find out what's going to happen. There are many scenes that at first make no sense at all; only later do their purpose become unveiled. There are also characters that pop up who seem completely irrelevant, but nothing is ever irrelevant in this novel—they, too, are revealed in their purpose later on. This goes for pretty much everything—objects, names, and people randomly appear at various points of the novel, like the pieces in a puzzle, only to be pieced together at a later time. In the meanwhile, it makes for an invigorating read just trying to guess who's who and what's what (as there are many dual identities in the novel.)

The characters are great because they are realistically portrayed. None are overdrawn or ludicrous, but none are understated either. They feel, more so than many other sci-fi books, like real human beings. (Unlike, say, the endlessly pontificating individuals of some Goodkind and Card stuff.) Renie's friend, !Xabbu (yes, the exclamation is supposed to be there), is simply wonderful as the newcomer to humankind's technology, morally supportive yet vulnerable. Special mention also goes to Dread, the story's central villain, a serial killer/rapist endowed with a mysterious power of some sort. Although he's a minor character, he has some fabulously chilling moments, and perhaps the scariest thing about his persona is that he's likeable—and to make an atrocious person somehow appealing is evidence of Williams' masterful storytelling (or manipulation, whatever you want to put it.)

But the settings were what attracted me most. I'm a fan of luscious locales, and this book covers everything from the battlefields of World War I to VR hotels the size of cities to castles on clouds to Martian airships. Williams' imagination really shines during these moments, and his ideas are portrayed vividly (as opposed to the sometimes-obscure descriptions of Greg Bear and David Brin.)

There are occasional parts where Williams does resort to formulaic devices, particularly in the conclusion, where a character has to deliver a long monologue in an attempt to explain all the loose ends of the story. But these parts are few and in between. I would overall recommend picking up this book if you want a challenging experience as well as a highly enjoyable one. I know I had fun time reading it, or else I wouldn't be reading the sequel now...

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