Reviews and Comments

This is the kind of book that really gets into worldbuilding, especially in the earlier parts. The reader is introduced to all sorts of weird concepts in the universe, and even if the earlier introductions feel like a bit of a dump, they are smooth—the setting is inventive with its space magic empire, but shows that it is a space magic empire from the get go. The overall concept of the book's universe is, by itself, also captivating.

There are ways to do vast, dystopian interstellar empires well, and there are ways to do them badly. Fortunately, Ninefox Gambit does them well. The story is pretty dark, and the setting is grim, but it doesn't feel gratuitous. Horrible things do happen to characters, but they happen to characters, instead of merely as an arbitrary background violence that punctuates the point. The story feels like it is, appropriately enough, about how people exist within the machineries of empire.

Elizabeth Bear's second White Space novel is, in some ways, better than the first. Once again, the story is told through the eyes of a compelling and complex character. The setting of the novel—a post-scarcity interstellar polity called the Synarche—is once again central to the novel, but the this time the inner workings of the Synarche, the relationship of its various citizens to it, and its flaws are examined in greater detail and from a more internal perspective, which makes the setting more interesting.

The novel suffers from pacing that could be better at times. We get to hear a lot of what the protagonist's thoughts are, but sometimes this feels redundant, with her explaining her already previously stated feelings on the situation multiple times, which does help to establish the stakes and motivations, but past a certain point feels a bit redundant.

Once again, this is an entertaining novel akin to the Culture series or Star Trek, in its depiction of a utopian-but-perhaps-flawed spacefaring future, though it is less epic space opera and more character-focused.

All the Birds in the Sky is, broadly, a novel about the conflict between science and magic. Less broadly, it's a novel about growing up, love, empathy, hubris, mistakes, and the desire to do good.

The story is told mostly from the perspectives of the novel's two main characters, Patricia and Laurence. The overarching plot of the novel may have some awkward twists, and its resolution may arrive a bit abruptly, but it generally works well anyway, considering the novel's focus on the character's individual experiences, and how their relationship plays into the larger events.

Genre-wise, the novel is a blend of science fiction and fantasy, and tone-wise it is a blend of serious and whimsical. While the plot does go to some dark places, the book's writing tends more towards wistful than grimly dark. The style may seem a bit weird, but it works with a story that is overall a bit weird.

Overall, an enjoyable book.

Ancestral Night is a space opera, of the sort that features a crew of a small starship getting into some adventures in a universe of interesting aliens and colorful characters.

The book is written from the perspective of its protagonist, in a generally lighter tone, which works well for that character. The overall arc of the plot also does not get too dark—Ancestral Night belongs to the subgenre of space opera that features universes which, while perhaps not entirely utopian, are generally not unpleasant places to hypothetically exist in. The plot, nevertheless, involves the old favorites such as ancient mysteries of the universe and space pirates, which Elizabeth Bear utilizes to generally good effect in crafting a space adventure.

The novel is not just pulp, however. An underlying plot concerns the questions of individual autonomy versus collectivism, and the use of transhumanism to better societies as a whole. The protagonist, like many people in her world, uses cybernetic modifications to control her emotions and mental state, a practice which on a larger scale is used to keep the whole of Synarche—the society within which the protagonist lives—functioning. At times she comes to question whether such practices are wise, or at least if the extent to which they are employed is not too great. The one shortcoming of the novel is that while it hints at such ideological conflicts exist, the characters which stand opposed to the Synarche seem to be driven more by being antisocial, rather than any cohesive alternative ideology, serving mostly as foils to make the protagonist think about things.

Besides being an exploration of transhumanist emotional editing at a societal scale, the novel is an exploration of the same at an individual scale. We see the protagonist deal with her trauma, and deal with the fact that she has been dealing with her trauma through brain implants. Bear does not go with the usual cliches in exploring this, but rather allows us to see the protagonists experiences from her own perspective. Character-focused science fiction about personal experiences is another thing that the novel does well.

Overall, the book will probably be an entertaining read if space adventure stories featuring elements such space tugs with witty AIs, space pirates, and space cats living in free fall are something that appeals to you.

There were many directions in which Arkady Martine could have taken the sequel to her popular 2019 novel A Memory Called Empire, and she has chosen an interesting and entertaining one.

The worldbuilding for which A Memory Called Empire was praised is back in A Desolation Called Peace, and while the first book focused on the Teixcalaanli capital, the second one explores more of the life onboard of the Lsel Station, as well as life in campaigning military fleets of the empire. For the most part, the worldbuilding in the sequel does not disappoint.

The bits where it does disappoint is in Martine leaning perhaps too heavily on space opera tropes in the parts of the book that take place aboard starships. While the descriptions of the capital or the palace grounds therein continue to be evocative, the descriptions of what it is like onboard of an imperial warship feel dull in comparison.

The plot continues to explore the politics of empire, and their relationship to individuals. Like with the first book, Martine manages to portray empire as a system built up of individuals—same as those it looms over, poised for conquest. The grand plots of the novel are not driven by villains motivated by their own evil nature, but by people who, entwined as they are with the culture of the empire, are doing what they think is the right thing to do. This is perhaps the most compelling aspect of Martine's Teixcalaan novels—the view of empire from within, but also from the liminal space on its edges.

The one complaint to level here, though, is that the book's pacing leave some to be desired in the first parts of it. The action moves rather slowly as everyone gets from where they were at the end of the first novel to where interesting things will happen in the second one. It is in the second part that things become more interesting and compelling.

Overall, the book is likely to be enjoyable for anyone who enjoyed A Memory Called Empire. The lack of novelty inherent in a sequel means that A Desolation Called Peace does not outshine the first novel, it is nevertheless a worthy successor.

The City We Became is urban fantasy, in that it features a bunch of magical stuff happening in a modern day city. It's also urban fantasy in that it is about cities. People are cities and cities are people, and not in a metaphorical way, but in a more supernatural and literal way.

N. K. Jemisin manages to channel the spirit of New York City (where the novel's action focuses) through the novel's characters, without resorting to tired and popular stereotypes of the city and its people. While in a way the book is an ode to New York, it also doesn't shy away from some of its more dark and shameful aspects. All of this is wrapped up in writing that manages to be evocative and sufficiency casual to flow well. The book paints an engaging picture of both the real New York, and its fictional, supernatural, embodied New York.

The one complaint to level against the book is against the arc of the plot. The novel feels more like a series of superhero fights, leading up t a bigger superhero fight, with some twists along the way, and a somewhat rushed conclusion. This can, however, probably be chalked up to it being only the first entry in a trilogy, and this being what the genre is.