roadrunnertwice | Bookpost: The Next of the Last

The countdown continues! There's one 2018 bookpost left to go, after this.

Ann Leckie — Provenance

Oct 20

This was pretty great. A very different ride than the Imperial Radch trilogy, in a lot of different ways.

For one thing, Ingray’s disposition is about as far opposite Breq as one can get, and I spent the first several chapters periodically shouting “who is this completely unprepared baby?” (She gets better, and actually I quite admired her bravery once the going got tough.)

For another thing, the culture and values of the setting were very much un-Radch, as driven home immediately by Ingray’s pressing worry that she had run so comprehensively out of money that she wasn’t going to be able to eat for the next week. Now, say what you will about the Radchii, and I’ll absolutely grant that they’re murdering imperialist bastards, but they won’t just leave you to starve, good lord, what kind of barbaric solar system have we ended up in.

Anyway, I got quite into this, and I’ll probably re-read it at some point. A solid page-turner with a lot going on under the surface.

Max Gladstone — Full Fathom Five

Oct 12

I wasn’t feeling this one nearly as much as the other two Craft novels I’ve read so far. I’m hoping that’s due to specific issues with this volume and not just fading novelty, because I’m still really interested in the broader setting and situation.

Part of the problem might just be that it’s working with more abstract material; Two Serpents Rise and Three Parts Dead were really about concrete problems of urban infrastructure, but this one is about colonialism and tourism economies and the fickle flow of global one-percenter capital, which 1: makes for a harder thematic frame to hang a functioning adventure story on, and 2: is harder to bring to an authentic resolution. It felt kind of meandering and uncertain — the protagonists of Dead and Serpents may have spent a fair chunk of time lost and bewildered, but their stories didn’t. And this one kind of did.

Greg Van Eekhout — California Bones

Nov 4

Hey, this was great! An excellent heist story with solid character writing, and an awesomely bizarre setting and concept.

I love how Van Eekhout really commits to the ghoulish grossness of that osteomantic magic system. I ALSO love how that grossness makes the full horror of an unsustainable lifestyle built on a fossil fuel economy juuuust foreign enough that it all hits you like a fresh gut wound.

Ages ago, I read an early take on this concept in short story form. (I think it was called "The Osteomancer's Son"?) From what I can faintly remember, the gross magic system and its brutal implications were already about 80% of the way on-line, but there wasn't much space for character in it, which made it feel a little airless. At novel length, though, it really shines. Making Daniel a funny and amiable crook with lots of friends was an excellent call in terms of mood and balance, and the setup phase of the heist gave the story enough breathing room that Los Angeles itself could really show some personality. (The short story might as well have taken place nowhere, but the living and breathing L.A. is one of the pillars of this novel.)

Another thing that I don't think came across much in that early take was just how unbelievably unethical Daniel's father really was, and I think that aspect makes his character a lot more interesting. Like, he's heroic from a certain point of view, and he was genuinely trying to do what was best for the kid, but wow dude, holy shit! Anyway, Daniel's superpowers kind of push against the border of being o.p., and they work a lot better in the story when you can see exactly what it costs to put together that kind of monster.

Akwaeke Emezi — Freshwater

Aug 18

This was gripping and hair-raising and for the most part really well done, and ultimately I'm not wholly sure what to make of it or whether I "liked" it or not.

I can't seem to put together a proper review, so here's what I've got:

In large part this book is about sexual relationships where consent is in a majorly dubious state and where at least one party is definitely being harmed somehow, but it puts most of these into a deeply fuzzy context where categories of "abuse" and "rape" don't seem to map very cleanly. I think maybe a lot of the narrative oddities of the book are a way to explore the dissonances you have to deal with when your internal experience of a rough situation just doesn't seem to match the simpler categories that the society around you wants to apply.
I'm really interested in some of the gender identity stuff in here, and I have zero intention of thinking any of that through in public. If any of my trans or non-binary friends have deep thoughts about this book, *telephone-hand gesture*
I really don't understand the ending, but I’m not super fussed about that.