I tend to think of myself as a fairly astute person. Naïve at times, certainly, and desperate to believe the best in almost any situation, but also realistic -- read cynical -- enough to tell when I'm being conned. Whether by a zealous salesperson, an earnest politician or a malicious media frenzy, I'm pretty sure I can see through The Big Lie to the underlying truth. This dress doesn't look great on me.; this tax cannot be good for me; this celebrity scandal isn't interesting to me.

I'm not sure, however, that a fifteen year-long reign of broadcast terror wouldn't get by even my discerning gaze.

The situation is this. Sixteen years ago, war broke out on Mars between the artificial warriors -- "leadies" -- of the West and East. This war naturally made its way to our planet a year later, but in the intervening time the world’s governments built vast underground caverns (or tanks) in which to house the majority of the population while a radioactive, remote-controlled battle rages on the surface. A select group stay above ground, and it is this happy few who inherit the Earth when, two years later, the war ends. For the benefit of the "tankers" below, elaborate sets are built and fictitious bomb-strikes are staged, while the Earth gradually heals its human-inflicted wounds and vast estates called demesnes, the size of large cities, are consigned to the sole guardianship of a privileged few. Those below toil to no real purpose, building ever more leadies for the onerous gardening, chauffering, and waiting duties required by the dominus of each estate.

Into this glorious land emerges one Nicholas St. John, elected President of his tank and forced to seek one of the richly prized artificial organs to restore a constituent to life. He stumbles into a world he never dreamed possible, one of peace and prosperity, of West and East working together to propagate their awful myth. St. John's relationships with a conscience-stricken few, and, in turn, their relationships with their overlord and each other, determine humanity's fate as the struggle to free the tankers comes to a head.

Oh, and also, there's time travel.

Phillip K. Dick, the scribe responsible for awesome sci-fi movies like Blade Runner, Total Recall and Minority Report, and for less awesome sci-fi movies like Next, The Adjustment Bureau and Scanners 2, here tells a confusing but still timeless tale of humanity, reality and the quest for power. Written in the 60's (you can tell because World War III apparently happened already), it feels as fresh and insightful as any book of today. And in our Big-Brother-ized, seeing-is-believing age, it is very pertinent.

Except… I didn't get it. Sure, mostly it was the time travel stuff (I suck at time travel), but I just felt like I should be enjoying this piece of classic literature way more than I actually did. Also, the bad guy was kind of lame, not scary at all. Why everyone was afraid of him remains a mystery. And as for the good guys… well, they were kind of bad, too (and not in that fun Jaime Lannister way).

My other major complaint is that the Dick future-slang is out in force here, the most strikingly studied example of which is the wholly unnecessary "disemflappled" -- employed when exiting the flying vehicle known as a “flapple” -- when disembarked works just as well. (Excuse me while I disemcomputer…)

However, Dick's extraordinary observations on humanity, and his almost precognitive genius for knowing the needs, whims and passions of the future are as obvious and remarkable here as in all his other works. For that alone, this is a very worthy novel, and will no doubt be made as a movie under a whole other title and starring Bruce Willis or someone. And in this case, I heartily advocate substantial rewriting from page to screen; it is all substance, no style.

Hmm. Perhaps I'm not so astute after all. 'Cause, me, I like style. And I always end up buying the dress, voting for the politician, and reading about the scandal anyway.

Don't you?

   -- Rachel Hyland