Subtitle: A Theory, A History, A Flood. This is a work of non-fiction, but it has a few clear protagonists.
Robert Cawdrey, who (in English, anyway) seems to have introduced the literate world to the idea of making a book which gave the meaning of words. He had among other tasks to introduce his readers to the idea of "alphabetical order", and explain to them how that worked in order to find the word they were looking for.
Ada Lovelace, the patron saint of computer programmers, who has as much claim as anyone to have written the first computer program (and this before the computer was actually built yet). Sure, Babbage gets more of the credit, but Lovelace did her part, and if Babbage had been able to complete his (getting the hardware working) then she would be more famous for it.
Claude Shannon, the post-WWII Bell Labs/MIT nerd who taught the world to think about "information" as a thing separate from meaning. Which, one could argue, was an omen of what was to come of us as a species.
What Gleick is doing in his book is roughly the opposite of what these (and many other) thinkers did. We can more or less take it as self-evident that words exist, in a sense, independent of the uses they are being put to. We move without thinking of a sequence of limb movements that compose the act of walking or running; we make facial expressions without necessarily thinking of all of the possible muscle movements in the human face and how they are combined. Once upon a time, Gleick is explaining to us, information was invisible like this.
We have grown up with the idea of bytes, letters, words, files, records, and the other units of information and meaning. In a way, it is as difficult for Gleick to explain how these things were discovered (or thought of, however you prefer to think of it), as it was for the discoverers to do it. The reason, is that first he has to explain to the reader, with enough well-chosen anecdotes and analogies to make us really feel it, that it was possible for untold generations of humans to speak language, make music, create images, and yet never need concepts such as 'information', or the distinction between meaning and form. It's almost like trying to explain to an adult what it is like to be a baby who doesn't know any language yet.
Gleick is one of the best in the world at doing this kind of thing, which is to say thinking long and deeply about not only scientific concepts, but the history of how they were arrived at. T.S. Eliot wrote: "We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." Gleick starts in our preliterate, literally prehistoric past, and takes us right through human history again, looking at each age through the lens of how we as a species thought about information itself, and ends in the present, where we are drowning in a flood of information that we can neither comprehend, stop, nor ignore. We have no answers, but we understand the questions better than before. From many facts, Gleick brings to us a bit of meaning.