I actually read this book when it first hit the stores some months ago, and I’ve been delaying reviewing it because I want to be fair.

The book, one of Pratchett’s juveniles, concerns a small island in what would be the South Pacific if it took place on Earth, which it almost does. This is not a Discworld novel; the setting is a sort of alternate 19th-century British Empire. The island is the home of a tribe that calls itself the Nation.

A young lad of the tribe is on a nearby island going through the ordeal that will allow him to be seen as a man when a tsunami strikes. The lad survives, barely–and discovers that his tribe has been completely wiped out.

This is not to say that his home island is deserted. Although it is not the largest island or the most important, it is in some sense legendary and central. The home of the Nation is a concept to all of the islanders, and it’s the place where the survivors begin to collect. Our hero is determined not only to survive, but to cope, and (though not officially a man) to lead the survivors in re-building.

Our hero isn’t interested in recreating the Nation as it once was, however, for his experiences have shown him that much of what he once believed was an utter crock. And this is where I need to be fair.

The book is an enjoyable read–not Pratchett’s best, but far better than the disappointing Making Money. The plot is more straightforward than usual for Pratchett, even for his juveniles, but it works, and as usual it’s brilliant at the paragraph level. My suspicion is that he’s coming to terms with Alzheimers, and that this new simplicity is the result, not of his condition, but of his determination to write good books in spite of it.

The early Discworld books were romps, plain and simple; but over the years Pratchett’s work has begun to exhibit a strong moral compass, evident in books like Night Watch and the Tiffany Aching books. Here are some of its hallmarks:

• Think for yourself.
• See what’s really there.
• Take care of others, even when it’s unpleasant.
• It’s your responsibility.

This message is closer to the surface in Pratchett’s juveniles than in his other books; and it’s the shining thread that runs through Nation. In fact, I think that was his goal for Nation–to express his personal beliefs clearly and distinctly.

There is much to like about them. If Pratchett lives up to his views, he’s a good man. But it’s clear that he doesn’t have much use for religion. It’s not that religion is devoid of truth; it’s that what truth there is, is obscured, hidden, lost (at best) in a morass of half-truths and details the importance of which has been forgotten. The teachings of religion can possibly lead us to truth, but only when tested.

And how are we to test them? The Scientific Method! This is the way to find the truth, and Nation ends in a touching paean to the benefits of scientific knowledge.

And here’s the rub. The methods of experimental science have amply proven themselves. They work. But there are domains where the scientific method doesn’t work, where other modes of finding the truth (“science” in the classic sense) are appropriate. Even if one confines oneself to the natural order, to the truths that are accessible to the natural light of reason, the scientific method isn’t all inclusive. (I can expand on this, if anyone’s interested.)

Bottom-line: this is a fine, well-written book, but the message is much closer to the surface than usual. It’s a good message, for the most part, but it is painfully limited; and I certainly couldn’t let my kids read it without discussing Pratchett’s treatment of religion with them.

(In a way, this is a compliment to Pratchett. Some authors denigrate religious faith in a manner that’s easily dismissed. “Yeah, kids, he’s a nut. Ignore those parts.” Pratchett’s underlying message is more serious by far, and needs to be engaged.)