Last year was C# and Erlang, this year was Clojure thanks in part to the excellent London Clojure Code Dojo.
(Bear with me for the next paragraph, and the subjective nature of later bits)
Clojure has been an interesting experience because I have neither a Lisp nor JVM background. I’ve found myself having to deal with prefix notation and a parenthesis overdose, as well as the unfamiliarity of the Java ecosystem. The official documentation is patchy, the language is still new and evolving, dedicated development tools are relatively immature, and there are moments when the JVM leaks through. It’s the first time I’ve felt a little out-of-my-depth when learning a new programming language, which is not necessarily a bad thing.
Yet I keep going to the dojos, I still flick through the book when I get the odd spare moment, I keep improving my development environment and I’m still umming and ahhing between Clojure and Erlang for a possible home project I want to work on next year, once my FluidDB and game ideas have been unleashed upon the world properly.
So why am I still learning Clojure?
I asked myself that question recently. I still disagree with Neal Stephenson’s comment that Lisp “is the only computer language that is beautiful”, but Clojure has helped me to understand why people like Lisp as well as clean up some of the ugliness of the language. I’m sorry guys, but Lisp has always looked pretty ugly to my eyes, despite the lack of boilerplate found in languages like, say, Java or C#. When Clojurians say that it’s Lisp reloaded, they mean it – which has upset some Lisp programmers but pleased others.
There’s a greater sense that people are using Clojure to solve real problems, evolving the language to deal with real issues rather than thought exercises from the ivory towers of academia. The community itself is generally a friendly and positive one with a good mix of people from different backgrounds, not just the Lisp and Java worlds. Being there as the language and community evolves has been fascinating and quite exciting.
Getting back to Clojure’s Lisp origins, I still believe it should be the starting point, not the direction. Clojure needs to find its own way, its own metaphors and patterns – retaining Lisp’s strengths while confidently discarding the legacy baggage.
Take macros, for example: much as I can see the power of them, I think they’re a distraction rather than a tool in this day and age. A controversial view for sure, but I guess I’ve never seen a conclusive argument for their use – indeed, the wisdom seems to be that you shouldn’t really need to use them. It feels like there should be a more contemporary or Clojure-like way of providing the power of macros, without the complexity or obfuscation. I don’t know what that way is yet – but I’m not sure others do either.
Clojure encourages immutable data structures, but acknowledges that the real world doesn’t work that way so a pragmatic language needs to handle mutable state. Clojure implements this in more controlled ways to other languages. My favourite option is software transactional memory. STM is a natural fit to someone who has used relational databases for the last ten years. It feels right for many applications in a concurrent environment, and it’s right there in the language from the start – not hacked in later or provided as a third-party module.
It might not quite fit in my brain like Python, I don’t quite grok the intricacies of the language yet, and the sooner more of Clojure is implemented in Clojure the better. Yet it still has me interested – I want to learn more about the language and write more Clojure code because deep down there’s something kinda cool about it.