As far as novels goes, it would be easy to dismiss this book. It is virtually plot free, lacks character development of any note, and verges on tedious repetition in many areas. To treat it as a novel, however, would be an error. Ishmael is designed as a Socratic dialogue and as such is never intended to convey much of a story or present particularly robust characters. Rather, Quinn's clear objective is to use the tale's two speakers (Socratic dialogues are generally limited to two speakers who converse in a question-and-answer format) to convey a philosophical idea, and given the nature of this particular idea, it would be difficult for Quinn to have chosen a better vehicle. This idea that Quinn seeks to impart is a difficult one to summarize but it is suffice to say that he challenges the nature and origins of human civilization, beginning with the human discovery and adoption of agriculture. Quinn ultimately uses his "teacher" character to condemn the practice of agriculture by exposing it as a seminal factor in the separation of humanity from the rest of the community of life on Earth. This idea is reached after subjecting the reader to a long series of philosophical digressions (via the "pupil" character, who is also the narrator) that are intended to prepare him for what would have to be popularly considered as an unusual, if not groundbreaking, perspective on human civilization.
Quinn's ultimate message, however, seems not to be to roundly reject the practice of agriculture but rather to use this idea as a way to challenge the human "myths" of superiority, divine right as a species, and what might be called the "Star Trek destiny" of universal colonization and control. The story's greatest fault lies in the author himself, who is much more a philosopher than a scientist, yet who attempts to use pseudo-scientific ideas, in many places, to justify his claims. Despite this, "Ishmael" is a tale of unprecedented value to the modern world thanks largely to the opportunity it presents readers to open their minds to the impossibly dense question of human "purpose" and place in the cosmos. Likewise does the story act as the very best sort of teacher, working tirelessly to grind down long inherited ideas of human social function so that the reader might have a chance to reconsider his species from his own point of view and with his own, rational mind, rather than feeding him yet another new idea that is simply a fresh layer of paint atop the many layers of old.
To be certain, Quinn will leave his reader with more questions than he started the story with, but if a good teacher is to be judged by the ability he confers upon the student to think critically for himself, then Ishmael must be considered among the very best breed of literary educators.
