The Carpet Makers

By Andreas Eschbach

Since the time of pre-history, carpetmakers tie intricate knots to form carpets for the court of the Emperor. These carpets are made from the hairs of wives and daughters; they are so detailed and fragile that each carpetmaker finishes only one single carpet in his entire lifetime.

This art descends from father to son, since the beginning of time itself.

But one day the empire of the God Emperor vanishes, and strangers begin to arrive from the stars to follow the trace of the hair carpets. What these strangers discover is beyond all belief, more than anything they could have ever imagined...

Brought to the attention of Tor Books by Orson Scott Card, this edition of The Carpet Makers contains a special introduction by Orson Scott Card.



At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jul 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781466850224

Andreas Eschbach

Andreas Eschbach studied aerospace engineering at the University of Stuttgart and later founded his own IT consulting company before becoming a full-time writer. Several of his novels, including The Jesus Video and One Trillion Dollars, became nationwide bestsellers in Germany. He has been awarded both the Kurd-Laßwitz-Preis, Germany’s most prestigious science fiction award for best science fiction novel, and the Deutscher Science Fiction Preis several times. The Carpetmakers, his only other book translated into English, was listed as one of the best science fiction books of 2005 by www.sfsite.com and recommended by Locus Magazine. In 2002, his novel Jesus Video was adapted for German television. He lives with his wife in Brittany, France.

Book preview

I

The Carpet Makers

KNOT AFTER KNOT, DAY IN, day out, for an entire lifetime, always the same hand movements, always looping the same knots in the fine hair, so fine and so tiny that with time, the fingers trembled and the eyes became weak from strain—and still the progress was hardly noticeable. On a day he made good headway, there was a new piece of his carpet perhaps as big as his fingernail. So he squatted before the creaking carpet frame where his father and his father before him had sat, each with the same stooped posture and with the old, filmy magnifying lens before his eyes, his arms propped against the worn breast-board, moving the knotting needle with only the tips of his fingers. Thus he tied knot upon knot as it had been passed down to him for generations until he slipped into a trance in which he felt whole; his back ceased to hurt and he no longer felt the age in his bones. He listened to the many different sounds of the house, which had been built by the grandfather of his great-grandfather—the wind, which always slipped over the roof in the same way and was caught in the open windows, the rattling of dishes and the talking of his wives and daughters below in the kitchen. Every sound was familiar. He picked out the voice of the Wise Woman who had been staying in the house the past few days in anticipation of the confinement of one of his wives, Garliad. He heard the muted doorbell clang; then the entry door opened and there was excitement in the murmuring of the voices. That was probably the peddler woman who was supposed to bring food supplies, textiles, and other things today.

Then heavy footfalls creaked up the stairs to the carpet-knotting room. That must be one of the women bringing him his midday meal. Below they would be inviting the peddler woman to the table to learn the latest gossip and to let themselves be talked into buying some bauble or other. He sighed, tightened the knot on which he was working, removed the magnifying lens, and turned around.

Garliad stood there with her enormous belly and with a steaming plate in her hand, waiting to come in when he gave permission with an impatient gesture.

What are the other women thinking, letting you work in your condition? he growled. Do you want to deliver my daughter on the stairs?

I feel very well today, Ostvan, Garliad responded.

Where’s my son?

She hesitated. I don’t know.

Then I can imagine where he is, snorted Ostvan. In the city! In that school! Reading books until his eyes ache and having his head filled with nonsense.

He tried to repair the heating and left to get some sort of part.… That’s what he said.

Ostvan hoisted himself up from his stool and took the plate from her hands. I curse the day I allowed him go to that school in the city. Was I not blessed by God until then? Didn’t he first give me five daughters and then one son, so that I didn’t have to kill any of my children? And don’t my daughters and wives have hair of all colors so that I don’t have to dye the hair, and I can tie a carpet that will be worthy of the Emperor one day? Why can’t I succeed in making a good carpet maker of my son, so that someday I can take my place beside God to help him tie the great carpet of life?

You’re quarreling with fate, Ostvan.

Should I not quarrel—with such a son? I know why his mother didn’t bring me my food.

I’m supposed to ask you for money to pay the peddler, said Garliad.

Money, always money! Ostvan put down the plate on the windowsill and shuffled over to a chest with steel fittings. It was decorated with a photograph of the carpet his father had tied and contained the money left over from the sale of that carpet, packed in individual boxes, labeled by year. He took out a coin. Take it. But remember that this must last us for the rest of our lives.

Yes, Ostvan.

And when Abron returns, send him to me immediately.

Yes, Ostvan. She left.

What kind of life was this, nothing but worry and aggravation! Ostvan pulled a chair up to the window and sat down to eat. His gaze became lost in the rocky, infertile desert. He used to go out occasionally, to look for certain minerals needed to make the secret compounds. He was even in the city several times to buy chemicals or tools. In the meantime, he had accumulated everything he would ever need for his carpet. He probably would not go out again. He was no longer young; his carpet would soon be finished, and then it would be time to think about dying.

Later, in the afternoon, quick steps on the stairs interrupted his work. It was Abron.

You wanted to speak to me, Father?

Were you in the city?

I bought sootbrick for the heating.

We still have sootbrick in the cellar, enough for generations.

I didn’t know.

You could have asked me. But any excuse to go into the city is good enough for you.

Unbidden, Abron came closer. I know it displeases you that I’m in the city so often and read books. But I can’t help it, Father. It’s so interesting … these other worlds.… There’s so much to learn—so many different ways for people to live.

I want to hear nothing of it. For you there is only one way to live. You have learned from me everything a hair-carpet maker must know; that is enough. You can tie all the knots, you have been instructed in soaking and dyeing techniques, and you know the traditional patterns. When you have designed your carpet, you will take a wife and have many daughters with different colored hair. And for your wedding, I will cut my carpet from the frame, bind it, and present it to you, and you will sell it in the city to the Imperial trader. That’s what I did with the carpet of my father, and he did the same before me with the carpet of his father, and he with the carpet of his father, my great-grandfather; that is the way it has been from generation to generation for thousands of years. And just as I pay off my debt to you, you will pay off your debt to your son, and he to his son, and so on. It was always this way, and it will always be so.

Abron gave a tortured sigh. Yes, of course, Father, but I’m not happy with this idea. I would rather not be a hair-carpet maker at all.

I am a carpet maker, and therefore you will also be a carpet maker. With an agitated gesture, Ostvan pointed to the uncompleted carpet in the knotting frame. For my whole life, I’ve worked on tying this carpet—my whole life—and from the profit, you will one day eat for your entire life. You have a debt to me, Abron, and I require that you pay off that debt to your own son. And God grant that he will not cause you as much sorrow as you have caused me!

Abron did not dare look at his father as he replied, There are rumors in the city about a rebellion, and rumors that the Emperor must abdicate.… Who will be able to pay for the hair carpets if the Emperor is gone?

The glory of the Emperor will outlast the light of the stars! Ostvan said threateningly. Didn’t I teach you that phrase when you could barely sit up next to me at the carpet frame? Do you imagine that just anybody can come along and change the order of things, which was set by God?

No, Father, mumbled Abron, of course not.

Ostvan watched him. Now go to work on your carpet design.

Yes, Father.

Late in the evening, Garliad’s birth pangs began. The women accompanied her into the prepared birth room; Ostvan and Abron stayed in the kitchen.

Ostvan got two cups and a bottle of wine, and they drank silently. Sometimes they heard Garliad crying out or moaning in the birth room; then again there was nothing for a while. It was going to be a long night.

When his father fetched a second bottle of wine, Abron asked, And if it’s a boy?

You know as well as I do, Ostvan responded dully.

Then what will you do?

The law has always said that a carpet maker may have only one son, because a carpet can support only one family. Ostvan pointed to an old, rust-flecked sword hanging on the wall. With that, my grandfather killed my two brothers on the day of their birth.

Abron was silent. You said that this is God’s law, he finally erupted. That must be a cruel God, don’t you think?

Abron! Ostvan thundered.

I want to have nothing to do with your God! screamed Abron, and flung himself out of the kitchen.

Abron! Stay here!

But Abron tore up the stairs to the bedchambers and did not return.

So Ostvan waited alone, but he did not drink any more. The hours passed, and his thoughts became more gloomy. Finally the first cries of a child were mixed among the cries of the mother, and Ostvan heard the women lamenting and sobbing. He stood up heavily as though every movement were painful; he took the sword from the wall and laid it on the table. Then he stood there and waited with somber patience until the Wise Woman came from the birth room with the newborn in her arms.

It’s a boy, she said calmly. Will you kill him, sir?

Ostvan looked at the rosy, wrinkled face of the child. No, he said. He will live. I want him to be named Ostvan after me. I will teach him the craft of a hair-carpet maker, and should I not live long enough, someone else will complete his training. Take him back to his mother, and tell her what I’ve said.

Yes, sir, said the Wise Woman, and bore the child out.

Ostvan, however, took the sword from the table, went with it up to the bedchambers, and killed his son Abron.

II

The Hair-Carpet Trader

YAHANNOCHIA WAS GEARING UP for the annual arrival of the hair-carpet trader. It was like an awakening for the city that would lie motionless under the searing sun for the rest of the year. It began with garlands that appeared here and there under the low roofs, and with meager sprays of flowers that tried to cover up the stained walls of the houses. Day after day, there were more colorful pennants fluttering in the wind that swept, as it always did, over the ridges of the rooftops. And the smells from the cooking pots in the dark kitchens settled heavily into the narrow streets. Everyone knew it was important to be ready for the Great Festival. The women brushed their hair, and that of their mature daughters, for hours. The men finally patched their shoes. To the constant chatter of excited voices everywhere came the dissonant blaring of trumpets rehearsing their fanfares. The children, who usually played quietly and somberly in the alleyways, ran about yelling and wearing their best clothes. It was a colorful whirl, a feast for the senses, a feverish anticipation of the Great Day.

And then the day arrived. The riders who had been sent out returned and dashed through the streets trumpeting the news: The trader is coming!

Who is it? a thousand voices shouted.

The carts bear the colors of the trader Moarkan, the scouts reported, then spurred their mounts and galloped on. And the thousand voices passed the name of the trader along through every house and hut, and everybody had something to say. Moarkan! They remembered when Moarkan had last been in Yahannochia and what goods he had had to offer from distant cities. Moarkan! They speculated where he might be coming from and from which cities he was bringing news and maybe even letters. Moarkan is coming!…

But it still took two whole days before the trader’s enormous caravan entered the city.

First came the foot soldiers, marching ahead of the train of wagons. From a distance, they had seemed like a single, gigantic caterpillar with glittering spines on its back, creeping along the trade route toward Yahannochia. As they got closer, it was possible to distinguish the men in leather armor carrying their spears pointed skyward, so that the polished spear points caught the gleam of the sunlight. Tired, they trudged along, their faces crusted with dust and sweat, their eyes dull and clouded with exhaustion. All of them wore the colored insignia of the trader on their backs, like a brand.

Behind them rode the trader’s mounted soldiers. Barely keeping their snorting mounts in check, they rode up the trail, armed with swords, maces, heavy whips, and knives. Some proudly bore old, scratched ray-guns on their belts, and all of them looked down with disdain on the city folk lining the road. There was trouble for anyone who came too close to the procession! Whips responded immediately, and with the loud crack of leather, the riders opened a wide ford for the carts that followed them through the stream of curious onlookers.

These wagons were pulled by large, shaggy baraq buffalo with matted pelts; they stank as only baraq buffalo can stink. The carts came creaking, rattling, and jolting along, their uneven, iron-rimmed wheels grinding dry furrows into the road. Everyone knew that these wagons were laden with costly items from distant places—that they were packed full of bags of exotic spices, bolts of fine material, barrels of expensive delicacies, loads of luxurious woods, and strongboxes filled to the brim with priceless gems. The buffalo plodded along good-naturedly, but the carters, sitting on their coach-boxes with grim expressions, drove them forward to keep them from stopping when confronted with the unusual excitement all around.

Magnificently decorated and pulled by sixteen baraqs, the great cart, in which the trader and his family lived, came next. Every neck craned in the hope of catching a glimpse of Moarkan, but the merchant didn’t show himself. The windows were curtained, and only two gruff carters were sitting on the coach-box.

Then finally, the hair-carpet wagon arrived. A murmur passed through the crowd at the roadside. There were no fewer than eighty-two buffalo pulling the steel colossus. The armored cart appeared to have no windows or openings, except for a single door to which the trader alone had a key. The eight broad wheels of the multiton monster dug into the road with loud crunching noises, and the driver had to constantly sting the backs of the buffalo with his whip to keep them moving ahead. The cart was accompanied by mounted soldiers, who scanned about suspiciously, as though they feared attack and plunder by superior forces at any moment. Everyone knew that the hair carpets the trader had already bought on his route were transported in this cart, along with the money—vast amounts of money—for the carpets he would still buy.

Other carts followed: the wagons in which the more important of the trader’s servants lived, provision wagons for the soldiers, and wagons for the transport of tents and all sorts of equipment needed by such a mighty caravan. And behind the procession ran the children of the city, hollering, whistling, and shouting with enthusiasm for the exciting spectacle.

The caravan rolled into the large market square to the sound of fanfare. Flags and standards fluttered on tall masts, and the city craftsmen were giving the final touches to the stands they had erected in one corner of the big market to display their wares in the hope of doing good business with the trader’s buyers. When the wagons of the caravan train came to a stop, the trader’s servants immediately began setting up their own stands and sales tents. The square echoed with a babble of voices, with shouts and laughter, and with the clatter of tools and poles. At the fringes of the square, the residents of Yahannochia pressed in timidly, because the merchant’s mounted soldiers were urging their proud steeds through the busy tumult, reaching threateningly for the whips at their belts whenever one of the city folk became too bold.

The city elders appeared, clothed in their most magnificent robes, escorted by city soldiers. The people from the trader’s company made room for them and opened up a path through which they strode toward Moarkan’s cart. They waited there patiently, until one small window was opened from the inside and the merchant peered out. He exchanged a few words with the dignitaries and then signaled to one of his servants.

This man, the trader’s crier, scurried as nimbly as a lizard up to the roof of the trader’s wagon, where he stood with his legs apart and his arms extended wide. He shouted, Yahannochia! The market is open!

*   *   *

We’ve been hearing strange rumors here about the Emperor for some time, one of the city elders said to Moarkan, while the tumult of the market’s opening swirled around them. Do you know anything more?

Moarkan’s crafty little eyes narrowed. What rumors do you mean, sir?

The rumor is going around that the Emperor has abdicated.

The Emperor? Is it possible for the Emperor to abdicate? Can the sun shine without him? Would the stars in the night sky not be extinguished without him? The merchant shook his fat head. And why do the Imperial Shipsmen buy the hair carpets from me just as they’ve always done for as long as anyone can remember? I’ve heard these rumors, too, but I know nothing about such things.

*   *   *

In the meantime, on a large, decorated platform, the final preparations were being completed for the ritual, which was the real reason for the arrival of the trader: the presentation of the hair carpets.

Citizens of Yahannochia, come and behold! the master of ceremonies called out; he was a white-bearded giant of a man, robed in brown, black, red, and gold, the colors of the Guild of the Hair-Carpet Makers. The people paused, looked toward the stage, and slowly approached.

There were thirteen carpet makers who had finished their hair carpets this year and were now ready to present them to their sons. The carpets were attached to large frames and draped with gray cloth. Twelve of the carpet makers were present in person—old, bowed men who were able to stand only with difficulty and who glanced around with half-blind eyes. Only one of the carpet makers had already died and was represented by a younger member of the guild. On the other side of the platform stood thirteen young men, the sons of the old carpet

Reviews for The Carpet Makers

[Stacey Richardson · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Engrossing, strange deeply sad little book. Of note-til the end of the universe, yet somehow everyone is still blond.

[M. · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Truly unique kind of story. Very dense like Gene Wolfe’s style.

[tchelyzt-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I’m not a huge authority on science fiction, confining my consumption to a narrow range of authors who catch my attention. Some favourites over the years have included Julian May, Iain M. Banks and Stephen R. Donaldson, which I guess puts my taste somewhere on the border between space age saga and fantasy. However, in my limited experience, no tale has had the range in either time (across hundreds of thousands of years) or distance (across entire galaxies) that this novel spans.Eschbach is not well known to English-speaking readers but is beginning to be read following his discovery by no less than Orson Scott Card. I’ve found several of his works in French and enjoyed them all, most particularly The Last Of His Kind and The Jesus Video. I preferred the French title of this book which translates to “billions of hair carpets” as it better evokes the central idea of the book – a feudal society spread across thousands of planets where a major enterprise is the annual production of literally billions of carpets spun from human hair harvested from the heads of the weavers’ wives and concubines. Ostensibly these carpets are intended to decorate the palace of the emperor but the stunning scale of the enterprise is too grand and the book becomes an exploration of what purpose they really serve.EschbachEschbach weaves a tangled web, jumping back and forth over the millenia, deceiving the reader up to the very end. Told as a series of short stories with no truly central characters, this is a puzzling book. Each story seems only loosely connected to the whole at first, but eventually we begin to pull the various threads together, not because they interconnect strongly but because they share a very strong context and what emerges is a staggeringly awful and very human explanation for the carpet weaving. It reminded me strongly of Iain M. Banks’ Inversions where an oddly feudal world emerges as belonging in a major galactical opera.The book just begs to be read as an allegory for various human societies, steeped in religion and tradition.German writers have always been among my favourites because of their highly cultivated and literary qualities and their very grand and sober themes. Eschbach is different; he has a lightness of touch that makes him easy to read and he is a truly good story teller with the ability to surprise the reader.

[klj101_569305091 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Save yourself the time you would have spent reading this and slit your wrists now. Spoiler alert:all the good guys get killed. Just as you develop an interest in a character, they get killed, die, or just disappear from the storyline.

[Wes Bergen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

amazing

[whitewavedarling · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Eschbach has a way of creating worlds that makes them both magical and wonderfully mundane, to where you're exploring a world built by beautiful language while, at the same time, feeling that the people involved are utterly familiar, different as their cares and their world may be. You can say that this story is about passion or art or the meaning of life, or about exploration or revenge or religion or world views, or even about telling stories. It's all of this. It's also about the meaning found in the day-to-day survival of life and of belief, and about determination and hope.In the beginning, it's something of an old-world fairy tale, and then it is a mastery of space and perspective, and finally, it is something beautiful, somewhere in between.If you haven't figured it out already from this wandering review, Eschbach's stories rather defy description, but they are wonderful. They are utterly wonderful. And if you read science fiction or fantasy, you should read The Carpet Makers.Absolutely recommended.

[Louise Pass · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A rug joke. But a good read

[Cristina Alves · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

awsome _ severel stories about the same planet that constitute a beautiful great story as interwined as the carpets

[altheaann · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Eschbach is apparently very well-regarded in his native Germany, and has won awards in multiple European countries - but this is his first book to be translated into English and published here. If 'The Carpet Makers' is any indication of the quality of his other works, I hope that English editions of his other books are on the way!
The novel is formed in a series of vignettes or separate short stories - which can sometimes, I feel, be an awkward, clunky way of doing things - I've read 'novels' like that before and felt that they were very 'cobbled together.' I didn't feel that way about this one at all. The 'flow' between scenes was very smooth, and each new vignette gave the reader one more piece of the big picture, forming an extreme tension as the revelation of just how terribly dire the scene being revealed truly is...
The book starts small... with just one family, a family of traditional hair carpet makers, the patriarch spending his entire life to make just one carpet from the hair of his wives and daughters, allowed to have only one son to train to take on his craft...
The scene seems harsh, the society repressive... (and that first 'story' packs a punch and a half!) but as the book goes on, the focus widens, until a galactic scenario is shown, and the book talks not only about one restrictive society, but the horrific pettiness of tyranny...
Knowing the author is German, it is hard not to draw parallels with the sci-fi criticism in this book with condemnations of the third reich, but I'm not sure I would have made that connection if I had not already been thinking about Germany...
Either way, really a wonderful book - emotional, well-written, structurally near-perfectly crafted, thoughtful. Highly recommended.

[alanpoulter_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A man is creating a carpet made out of his wife's hair. This is his life's work. The carpets are the driver of an intertwined series of scenes which make up the plot. The scenery comes from 50s' SF and the 'villain' is a 50-50 mix of the the Emperor and Sauron. There is s Big Speech about evil by an Eternal 'bad guy' who dies. Yet it does all hang together, just. The main issue for me was that there was just too much here, too many stories, too many planets... Less can be more. Also the 50s SF got grating.

[bayardus-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I'd rate this book 3 and 1/2 stars, if that were an option. The Carpet Makers is admirable for several reasons, avoiding some common pitfalls to Science Fiction books but also stumbling a few times near the finish.

In a clear parallel to the stitching of a carpet, the book weaves together a plethora of individual stories focusing on separate characters to form a tableaux of a massive interstellar empire. The book starts with the actual carpet makers, before switching to the merchants who transport the carpets, then a freethinking teacher in a carpet making city, then the off-world observers of this planet, and so forth. So gradually that you barely notice it Eschbach expands the scope of the story , slowly revealing a more expansive vision of the carpet-centric universe through the stories of individual characters. When the book ends you feel you know this universe and its inhabitants, a feat science fiction writers often fail to pull off in books twice this size.

This technique of stitching together the narrative via small scale stories has both strengths and weaknesses: it allows us to see almost every stage of the carpet making process in a way that isn't just info dumping, to witness the different beliefs of vastly different characters (some devout, some rebellious, some just wanting to do their jobs), and to tell an epic that nevertheless feels personal. On the other hand, this technique means that some characters disappear from the narrative and you never discover their fate, like dangling threads. Also, the switching between characters means you get relatively little character development, and a few characters are decidedly one-note. This weakness is tempered by Eschbach's ability to establish characterization quickly and rather brilliantly at times, such as in the first chapter which ends with a great segment showing us how violently a carpet maker will hew to tradition and do away with anything that threatens the carpet making lifestyle. In general the writing of The Carpet Makers is nothing too special, but the way Eschbach establishes the characters is sometimes impressive.

As I mentioned before, The Carpet Makers dodges some common problems in science fiction- it focuses on the mental and emotional aspect of living in this universe and not just the physical aspect, it is set in the period just after a galactic war instead of in the middle of one so that it can explore the complexities of running a universe instead of just fighting over one, and finally the book restrains itself from having a chapter from the perspective of the emperor. The emperor only appears as a stunningly impressive figure in the memories of the featured characters- a wise choice, as any direct depiction would have been unable to match the heights the narrative had built him up to.

In contrast, the eventual reveal of the purpose of the hair carpets fails to live up to its narrative buildup. When I learned the solution to the mystery, I found it to be thematically interesting but not as impressive as I had imagined (and as the book had led me to believe it would be). Also, the reveal was delivered in a way I found rather unsatisfying, as it is the sole reveal through an info dump in a book that is otherwise impressively free of them. That the info dump was foreshadowed does little to help.

I would recommend The Carpet Makers for the world it builds and the themes and ideas it explores, even if the solution to the central mystery was underwhelming. Still, in the long run it is the ideas that stick with me the most, and with that in mind The Carpet Makers was well worth reading.

[davecapp-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Grand in scope this story is told at the individual family level. It's one of those stories that takes hold of your imagination in the first few pages and never let's go - even long after you've finished. Excellent read

[knowledgelost · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book was a little weird; somewhat disjointed; it read almost like historical fiction but there was a heavy Science Fiction theme weaved into the story. Reminds me of the original Star Gate movie, mixing ancient (Middle Eastern) culture with a very strong Sci-Fi style. The novel starts off with what seems like a very basic story, but as you continue on it gets more complex and the world seems more sinister than expected.

The pre-historic carpet maker’s life seems a little weird, a tradition that didn’t seem to sit well with me; this could have been simply because I was expecting more out of their lives. These carpet makers make one carpet in their life time and their debts are passed on from generation to generation. But as you read further through this book you begin to understand their lifestyle a little better and while don’t wish to take up the tradition, I’ve come to accept it.

Overall the writing style was a little strange and took a while to get use to. I often found myself completely lost and not sure what is happening. It is quite possible some of the story got lost in translation but I felt like there was far too much in the story that never seemed to get resolved; I don’t want everything wrapped up in a neat bow but I would like some sense of closure, but I never got this here.

Well worth reading this book, it is quiet unusual and the journey was enjoyable. I think even readers that aren’t fans of Science Fiction may even enjoy this book.

[shanaqui_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book has to get five stars from me because it's the first book in quite a while that I would've stayed up late into the night to finish, even if I was exhausted. From the first chapter, it weaves a compelling mystery and builds a whole new world. The writing itself is beautiful; the translation is excellent, with no sense of a gap between me and the text, which I often do get with translations. I think I'm going to have to parcel it up and send it on a round of my friends to read.

I'm not actually saying it's flawless. The structure, however, keeps it strong: each chapter is a self-contained story, which adds a link in the chain to eventually get to the heart of the mystery. But once I got there, after all that build-up, it felt unsatisfying -- but that didn't take away from the power and mystery of the rest of the book. And the epilogue was another strong link in the chain, a perfect way to finish the story.

Usually, I'm interested in characters, in any given book. That's not the case here, and I didn't even feel a lack because of it. It's a totally bewildering, bewitching book..

[jenneb_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Okay, so there's this planet, see, whose entire economy is based on these carpet makers who each spend their entire life making one carpet out of the hair of their wives and daughters. And they send the carpets to this sort of god-emperor in space...but then it turns out that there isn't an emperor any more, and maybe there are other planets making these carpets, and I won't tell you how it all turns out, but it will BLOW YOUR MIND, MAN.

[shirezu · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

At first this seems like a simple, but unusual, story of a planet whose whole purpose is the creation of carpets made of hair to sell for their Emperor-God. The carpets are made from the hair of the carpet makers wives and daughters and will take their entire life to create just one. As the story unfolds you gradually learn all is not as it seems and something quite sinister is happening.

This was a mesmerising tale which kept me glued to the pages so much I read the whole book in a couple hours. I just had to know what the truth was and I have to say I didn't see it coming. The twist was pulled off superbly.

There were some negatives though. The way the book was told was very disjointed and often jarring and disorientating from one chapter to the next. You'd never know how much time, if any, had passed until later on. I also felt there were a few plot lines that were never resolved. They just disappeared.

Overall though this was a great book. I highly recommend it.

[bunwat_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The first chapter of this book, which was originally published as a short story, is terrific. Five stars. The book then goes on as a short story cycle, with each story focusing on a particular character or vignette that cumulatively build a picture of the society these characters inhabit. Its an interesting conceit, carried out with discipline and intelligence.

The individual stories are a mixed bag. None of them are terrible, many of them are good. None quite comes up to the standard of the first one, but that's an awfully high bar. The whole to which each story contributes... well that's where readers are probably going to differ.

The whole is a thing of high drama and deep pathos, which many readers, particularly lovers of opera (italian, german, space) may well fall in love with. Or, if they are, like me, afflicted with an overdeveloped sense of the absurd, they may find it a bit over the top and be tempted to fall into a giggle loop at precisely the most solemn moments. Lets face it, I just can't be trusted to take things seriously enough. Ah well. I soldier on.

[suzemo · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book has a weird premise, which is why I bought it to begin with. On a planet, there is an entire system set up around one produced good: Carpets. Carpet-Makers are the most honored members of society. They spend their entire lives making a carpet out of human hair. They use the hair of their wives and daughters. They’re the only people in society allowed to have multiple wives - so they can have multiple colors from those wives as well as producing more colors/hair through their daughters. They are allowed one son, to continue the carpet making tradition. They toil away at this task day and night, every day; the work is so intricate that it takes their entire lives to produce one carpet. When the carpet is completed, it is sold, and the price of that hair carpet sets up the next generation (no really, it’s enough money for the family to live off on their entire lives), with the son of the carpet maker marrying and starting his carpet, to toil at until his son is ready to marry and begin the cycle all over again. That is their entire lives. And the economy and society of the entire planet revolves around these precious hair carpets. This is how it has been for untold generations.

They make these carpets to honor their God-Emperor, or at least that’s what they believe/know to be true. These carpets are supposedly shipped off world to adorn the palace of this immortal emperor who has all power and has ruled for however-many millenia.

And then it all changes. And the mystery of the hair carpets is discovered.

This book was interesting - not just in the actual story, but the way it is told. It has amazing writing - each chapter is a short story (so the book is basically a series of short stories) with a one or two (or whatever) character/thread link carrying you from one to the next. It’s usually a pretty tenuous link, but the book is about the story, about human nature - not the characters themselves.

But even without the book being about the characters, most of the chapters encompass something about the main character from the story that is so strong and shocking that at the end of the chapter, I’m left with a “WTF/Whoa/OMG” moment. Some of these chapters just break my heart.

Actually, this whole book pretty much kills me. Eschbach gets more said, more done, more story told, and more emotions out of my gut in 10-15 pages than most authors can get in whole trilogies. It’s a very short book, and it covers a story that takes place over 80,000 years and it’s absolutely amazing.

[thecrow2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The story unfolds through the series of loosely connecting short stories about the hair carpet makers and the universe ruling an immortal emberor they living in. The world a liitle bit Warhammer 40k-ish and Asimov-ish but after all the story which makes up at the end of the book is original and weird enough....

[nkmunn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

the themes of this book will replay in your mind even years after you have read it. The impossiblity of truly understanding foreign cultures is here the topic of a series of interlinked lives and tales . The premise is seemingly dead-end simple. The carpet makers are tradesmen by birth who spend their lives weaving carpets woven from the hair of their wives and daughters if they are lucky enough to have them. Weaving one carpet is a life's task. The trade is passed from father to son, whatever sum the father's carpet brings becomes his son's life long budget.The outcomes are anything but.

[nrclibn · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Engrossing yet depressing: evokes the image of "rural Afghanistan meets North Korea." Reviewers here and on Amazon decry the lack of character development, but it illustrates how most of the individuals introduced are miserable little cogs in a horrible planetwide carpet-making machine.

[theepicrat · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first chapter drew me in immediately. On this planet, carpet makers are revered. They make carpets out of the hairs of their wives and daughters, and traditionally they can only complete one hair carpet in their lifetime to sell to the God-Emperor (who rules the universe) for palace decoration. The profit for one hair carpet is given to their male heir to pay for his family's needs, hence each hair carpet is made to pay back the debt to their fathers. Furthermore, a carpet maker can only have one son - all future sons must be killed - a hair carpet can only pay for one family.So far, so good. The twist? Well, some people - carpet makers, carpet makers' sons, non-carpet makers - realize that there are an awful lot of carpet makers and hair carpets being made. How much room does the God-Emperor have in his palace? Why does he need all these hair carpets? Does the Emperor truly exist? Is all that we do for the glory of the Emperor? These questions are viewed as blasphemous, and even the doubters hesitate to voice them from fear of being stoned as well as experiencing bad luck when they do doubt.Even more twisted? People from other parts of the universe arrive and announce that the Emperor has been overthrown by rebels. This rebellion has taken place several decades beforehand. But wait...they have been sending hair carpets during that time. Even stranger, the rebels have not seen the smallest trace of hair carpets at the Emperor's palace. Where have these carpets been going? Why are we making hair carpets? What do we do if there is no need for hair carpets?These questions go around and around as the pages keep on turning. The answers never seem to be any closer, but the questions continue to build up as the observations get stranger and stranger. And finally the answers come - and we are left in awe and horror at the truth behind the hair carpets.

[skytree_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Intense and twisted, but so, so good. It actually creeps me out having it on my shelf, but I refuse to get rid of it. I bought it because I'm a weaver, and I love Science Fiction. It takes an incredible book for me to be so creeped out by it and still keep it.

[melissarogerson_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

An interesting and highly original idea, but I felt the execution didn't quite work. The individual chapters are so disjoint that it takes a while to get into, much like George R R Martin's books - but unlike with Martin, there is no payoff for any investment in the characters. If memory serves, this was a first novel.Well worth reading, but don't look to connect with any characters.

[alexdallymacfarlane · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Like the hair carpets that form the central theme to Eschbach's novel, the plot is a delicate and superb weave of many different and all well-written strands. There is no main character, though most characters feature in more than one chapter; rather, a new character forms the focus of each new chapter. Most could be short stories in their own right. Taken together, they form a story-tapestry.This technique worked very well for me, once I realised what Eschbach was doing. For readers who want to connect to a single character throughout a novel, this might not work as well. That said, Eschbach manages to make each character compelling and interesting, moving each chapter forward with its character's dilemma -- an impressive feat, considering how brief a time each one appears in the novel. The plot is fascinating. I was sold on the idea of hair carpets in a scifi setting; it seems to combine elements of fantasy and science fiction, and there is certainly the feel of both. Well, who needs to completely separate them anyway? All in all, I absolutely loved this book, and I highly recommend it to either scifi or fantasy fans who'd like to read something a little different.

[jim53_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This was the first book I read after seeing it described on LT. I found the multi-viewpoint approach interesting; I suspected it was supposed to mirror the construction of the carpets, but that might have been over-thinking. I tend to like having to work a little as I read, so figuring out the connections between the sections was kind of fun, although I didn't determine how the section about the championship linked up. Overall the book had some of the flavor of [[Asimov]]'s [Foundation] books, with the long sweep and changing cast of characters. For me, though, the ending turned the book into a practical joke. I couldn't tell whether Eschbach was suggesting that life is like this, with the vanities of rulers prompting arbitrary, world-altering decisions, or whether he might be suggesting that many of us are like the carpet maker who could not stop even after learning the truth. I needed more or better hints of what he was up to than I found. I ended up being disappointed.

[seitherin · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The point of this story is why everything happened.

[staramber · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The ideas presented in it are gorgeous and the structure is ingenious (and tempting) but - and I do hate to say this because I have no idea if it's down to the translation or not - the language is chunky and clumsy. Try 'He felt virtually torn in two by opposing powers pulling at him like two forces of nature.'It falls into the trap of having women characters only when they are in relationships with men, which is essentially the important thing about their characters. At least it doesn't pull an Equilibrium and have women around so they can die.