So incredibly disappointing.
Vogt started this book, but couldn’t finish due to Alzheimer’s. Anderson finished it, and it is difficult to imagine how he could have done a worse job. Not only is the book not even remotely consistent with the first book, it isn’t internally consistent. Anderson took the real people that populated Vogt’s book, characters with complicated motivations for their actions, and turned them into silly caricatures. The plot consisted mainly of people frantically running from place to place so that when they got there, they could sit around and explain things to each other. The tone was sentimental and insipid. The ending was horrifyingly atrocious. On the plus side, I recognize the genius of Slan even more after reading this horrible sequel. That’s the most positive thing I can think to say.