I am fully aware of my sacred duty to not spoil anything, so this review is going to be short and vague. I'm thinking of doing a reread of all three bI am fully aware of my sacred duty to not spoil anything, so this review is going to be short and vague. I'm thinking of doing a reread of all three books once Nona is actually out (and not just an ARC being passed between my GF's bookstore coworkers like it's a water bottle in the desert) and may circle back and write proper reviews at that time. I think a looooot of stuff will make more sense on reread.
For now, what I'll say is that Muir is an absolute master at piecing out information just so. For around 90% of the book I had the incredibly frustrating feeling that I was learning SO MUCH and yet knew NOTHING, and then right at the end she dropped the last element into place and things made sense. Clues were practically handed to me and yet the final reveal was unguessable until it became obvious. I'm still realizing things which, in hindsight, make perfect sense based on what I now know.
I am incredibly glad that Muir decided to make this its own book, instead of the first part of Alecto, because I can't imagine how this story could be squashed down. On the other hand, I will be slowly dying with every day that passes that I can't read Alecto, because I have a near-physical need to know how this story ends....more
Yeah, three stars but it's on my 2022 faves shelf. Go figure.
The thing about this book is that the concept absolutely seized my attention. It's a crosYeah, three stars but it's on my 2022 faves shelf. Go figure.
The thing about this book is that the concept absolutely seized my attention. It's a cross between Cinderella and Faust - what if the fairy godmother was actually the Devil? - which specifically asks, what if Cinderella weren't defined by being good and kind?
Eleanor tried to be good, she tried to be kind, but she wanted so many things that she could feel them gnawing at her from the inside.
This is an absolutely blockbuster idea. There are so many interesting directions to go from a start this promising, and by and large I felt the book made good on this early promise, right up to the very end, and then didn't quite meet expectations.
Part of the problem is that its two source components, Cinderella and Faust, have opposite inevitable endings. Both are endings driven by key qualities of their protagonists, but Cinderella's goodness leads her to a happy finale, whereas Faust's fallibility leads him to tragedy. Readers know how each of these parts is supposed to go, but combining them makes competing promises. Ultimately, two stock narratives enter but only one leaves, and that was probably doomed from the start to disappoint many readers.
(There's also an element of an unreliable narrator here which, I fully admit, I didn't pick up on until I read some other reviews of this book who laid the evidence out. That's a whole OTHER thing.)
The strongest element of this story is Eleanor herself, who is from the start a dubious protagonist. She's got a lot of anger, a lot of wanting, and much of it is sympathetic. She has been unjustly treated, and no small part of her anger is on behalf of friends who have been exploited, abused, and raped. And yet, Eleanor's wanting is focused on the life she feels she deserves: that of a noblewoman, elevated above all the grime of below-stairs life, and there is no sympathy or solidarity for servants in her imaginings of what she deserves. She is convinced that she doesn't belong in poverty, but doesn't really extend that empathy to others. Even as, through the course of the story, she seems poised to get what she wants, the most she is willing to extend to her 'friends' is a better variety of servitude.
This selfishness is the first indication that the story is going to be more Faust than Cinderella. Still, I admit I held out hope that she would, in fact, somehow get out of her bargain. (view spoiler)[Partly this is because I was, I think, misreading a lot of the hints that the entire 'devil' element of things might be a hallucination on her part. Mentions that Eleanor was a violent terror as a child may have been meant to clue me in, but I concluded instead that her benefactress, Mrs. Pembroke, might have also made a bargain and Eleanor's healing was one of her wishes. (hide spoiler)] I'm a sucker for a Cinderella/underdog narrative, and for a little over half the book I was really rooting for her relationship with Charles.
I'm not dissatisfied with the path the story took, except in that I think the ending was a little simpler than I was hoping for. For a concept which is rooted in two competing narratives, I wish the scales had been a little more evenly weighted, and that the conflict between these archetypal stories had been drawn out more. (view spoiler)[IE, that the Cinderella story was more than aesthetic at the finale, that Eleanor did have a little of that goodness in her at the end. I'm not sure how it would have worked, to be fair, but nonetheless. (hide spoiler)] Still, I found the ideas that went into this book fascinating, and - as someone who loves and collects Cinderella retellings - this was an angle that caught my attention and got me thinking. As such, despite not being the most satisfying read, I think it's earned a spot on my favorites shelf for 2022....more
I've read this book twice in the space of three months and I'm STILL struggling with how to review it. I think I've considered maybe a good dozen waysI've read this book twice in the space of three months and I'm STILL struggling with how to review it. I think I've considered maybe a good dozen ways to start out and none of them feel quite right. I'll give it my best shot, though.
It gets me thinking a lot about the delineation between pure genre fiction and romance, because one of the opening lines I keep considering is 'If you took out the sex scenes, this would be a damn good fantasy novel'. And that's... true, but honestly it's a damn good fantasy novel anyway, and if anything the sex scenes are part of that, not a detraction from it. I mean, there are some corny moments (sex diamonds) and plenty of classic romance/PWP simultaneous orgasms, but Noone also does a superb job making the sex character-relevant. It's hot, but it's not just there to be hot - let me back up a bit.
So, this book hits me in a very specific trope that I'm weak for, which is characters whose incredible power (usually magical) means they feel they have to hold themselves aloof from the world, until they meet a person or people who sort of... bring them back down to earth. The archetypal example for me is Numair from Tamora Pierce's Immortals Quartet: the world's most powerful mage, whose magic is so overclocked that he can't light a candle without accidentally blowing it up, who exists in his own scholarly little world but can also change someone into a tree without breaking a sweat. I'd argue that later-book Ender Wiggin is the same - he saves the world and then his own brother pretty much banishes him because he'd be a political pawn, regardless of his own wishes, if he ever returned to Earth.
Lorre is exactly that kind of character, and this book feels to me like it's all about that paradox of power and connection.
I think it was an early episode of Writing Excuses in which someone (Dan Wells?) says that, essentially, in any setting with magic the mages will become either a ruling class or a slave class - either the exploiters or the exploited. Lorre is both and, after centuries of it, pretty royally fucked up. First used for political gain by his abusive father, then circulating unchecked and powerful throughout royal courts, full of hubris and also painfully isolated from other people by his choices and by theirs - there's an ache there, even though it goes unacknowledged. That long-buried loneliness makes it so potent when he encounters Gareth, who offers him uncomplicated acceptance and kindness, who seems to be the first person who sees Lorre as a person rather than a tool, a threat, or both.
They figure out their mutual physical attraction pretty early, which on first read I was a little disappointed by - I love pining, okay? - but on my second readthrough I was better able to appreciate it, because after they've slept together Lorre spends most of the rest of the story wrestling with the idea of being wanted for himself, not just for what he can do, which is such a deep insecurity and hits so hard. Circling back to my earlier point about the sex scenes: this is a thread that Noone weaves beautifully in, using the giving and receiving of pleasure to highlight Lorre's unmet, unacknowledged desire to be cared for, and his feeling that he can never be enough or give enough of himself. It's just lovely.
If I wanted to put my critique hat on, I would probably note that the writing feels very fanfic-y, especially in the use (overuse) of sentence fragments. Character voice could probably also be more distinct... but honestly, the emotional content is so good that I don't really care that much. Noone's writing verges almost on too flowery for my tastes but settles firmly into gorgeous; it also works beautifully with the way she portrays Lorre's magic, which blurs the edges between him and the world around him. (From a fantasy reader perspective, by the way, I love this too - it's such an evocative portrayal of what it might be like to experience magic.)
I'm gonna have to buy the ebook, because I definitely foresee rereading this one....more
That's the question at the heart of this book - the one that Mosscap, the series' titular Robot, has left its wilderness to answer; tWhat do you need?
That's the question at the heart of this book - the one that Mosscap, the series' titular Robot, has left its wilderness to answer; the one it poses to the humans it meets and to Sibling Dex, its guide and travelling companion. And it's what is asked of the reader, too, in a gentle and contemplative way.
I think the cover copy does the book a disservice in its last line: In a world where people have what they want, does having more even matter? Published in the context of our intensely capitalist, consumption-oriented society, that phrasing feels wrong, like it's talking about greed or over-acquisition, but that couldn't be further from the truth. The setting of these novellas is a post-scarcity utopia, where people don't have to worry about essentials like food, shelter, and healthcare, and the question Chambers is posing seems, to me at least, to be more like - once you get beyond the need to survive, what is the point of being a person? What is the purpose of humans, in aggregate, or what are the purposes of each of us as individuals?
It's not about 'having more', it's about 'having meaning'.
This book doesn't try to spoon-feed its readers answers, more to ask the question and provide a comfortable context in which to consider the answers. It is a wonderful space to step into, especially right now, as we enter the third year of a global pandemic which has upended the world with tragedies large and small. I think I would be glad these books exist at any time, but especially now, they offer a kind of gentle understanding that I deeply appreciate....more
New favorite Temeraire sequel? New favorite Temeraire sequel.
This book had everything: adventures in a new location, a novel culture with its own uniqNew favorite Temeraire sequel? New favorite Temeraire sequel.
This book had everything: adventures in a new location, a novel culture with its own unique relationships between humans and dragons, two levels of international intrigue, and best of all, Laurence finally deciding to put his foot down and stand for his own principles, without the defense of 'duty' or 'the good of the nation', just the courage of his personal convictions.
Pusantinsuyo, the Incan Empire, was a delight to explore. While it's not quite the dragon-ocracy I was kind of hoping for, I loved the idea of this society in which humans and dragons live together and collaborate, and dragons basically 'hoard' people instead of treasure. There are points raised, and fairly made, about whether or not this constitutes slavery, as the dragons are perfectly willing to give goods as recompense if they take someone's people - but then again:
"You might think of it as a dowry," Granby suggested, with a suspicious twitching around his mouth.
He's not wrong, though! Which just makes the entire question more interesting. Personally, as someone who would happily join a dragon-assisted farming community if given the chance, I can't quite see it as a subjugated state, though it's definitely not a perfect social structure.
The climax of the book happens beyond Incan lands, and while I don't want to give spoilers (though I'm sure the statute of limitations has passed, still) it involves a team-up with a former ally to push for an end to slavery and was, all around, deeply satisfying.
The one thing that I didn't like is that the book ends with the promise of an overland journey up to the Bering Strait, but I know full well that Laurence starts Blood of Tyrants without his memory, which means I don't get to see it. That's just rude, because I am so terribly curious about North America's political and cultural system in this world... maybe flashbacks or Temeraire perspective will give me something to go on....more
This book is 1/3 delight, 1/3 anxiety, and 1/3 'god, war is so stupid'.
Delight: As much as I don't want Temeraire to ever be sad, and therefore am oppThis book is 1/3 delight, 1/3 anxiety, and 1/3 'god, war is so stupid'.
Delight: As much as I don't want Temeraire to ever be sad, and therefore am opposed to him being separated from Laurence, I really loved getting his POV in this book and getting to see him interact exclusively with other dragons. Not only does this broaden the portrayal of dragons as a whole, but it's fertile ground for him to develop and advocate for ideas of draconic rights, and with the gloves (talon sheaths?) off, make himself FAR more of a problem for the British social order than they ever expected. By halfway through the novel he's basically created a union of some 60-odd dragons, and there's just something about them which makes their negotiating tactics very effective...
"I beg your pardon," Temeraire said to the poor man, who trembled violently as the dragon's head lowered near, "but if you are part of the ministry, I should like a word, myself. We would like to vote, please, and also to be paid."
This is also the installment in which Temeraire is officially and completely done with the Government as a whole, and has no compunctions about letting them know:
"If I had done as I was told," Temeraire said, "you should have sixty less dragons, and Lefebvre would have a good deal more food, and tomorrow Napoleon would likely beat all of you for good. So that is a very stupid thing to say. Whyever ought I do as I am told?"
[image] Anyhow, all this to say that I love him.
Anxiety: Hello Laurence, it's all your fault. I mean my anxiety throughout the book, of course, not any of the things which Laurence thinks are his fault. He spends a good chunk of it trying to be a Model Prisoner, because he feels terribly guilty about heading off Britain's attempted war crimes and thinks he owes it to his country to Suffer About It. I... have an issue with this, because a) I wholeheartedly think the choice he made at the end of Empire of Ivory was the right one, even if (as other characters point out) it could have been accomplished with less melodrama; and b) he, albeit unintentionally, takes this guilt out on Temeraire, who neither deserves nor understands it, and frankly if my cat hadn't been sitting on my lap enforcing stillness I might have had to put the book down for a day or so before I could push through the beginning of Part 3. I don't have a ton of sympathy for Laurence's feelings of guilt, which is partly because I have strong opinions about my own country's history of war crimes. I get that his feelings are complicated by a personal history of military service, and by the feeling that he has in a real way betrayed specific friends who suffer in the battles afterwards... but the fact is that, as a character whose personality is marked by a sense of obligation to others, he would have felt just as guilty if not worse if he had done nothing. Thankfully, Tharkay calls him out on it:
"There are authorities to choose from," Tharkay said, "to suit any action, if you like; I prefer to keep the choice a little closer." It seemed to Laurence the most miserably solitary existence imaginable, isolated by more than distance or even disdain. "How do you bear it? The choice, and all the consequences thereof, alone-" "Perhaps use has reconciled me; or," Tharkay said dryly, "perhaps I simply have less natural inclination to hold myself responsible for the sins of the world, rather than for my own."
I am beginning to understand why people ship them.
On the topic of 'war is stupid' I don't have much to say, because I feel like that's self-explanatory. Especially wars started for the sake of territorial expansion just seem like a pointless waste of time and resources, which could be better spent on improving people's lives than ending them.
I feel like this review has ended up being more 'reaction' than true review, but that happens sometimes. I did enjoy the book, obviously, but I'm most excited to have finished it because now I get to move on into the half of the series that I neglected to read as it was coming out, and I have NO idea what to expect....more
"What can a man not accomplish with such a friend, such a councilor, free from any trace of envy or self-interest? It has made you who you are. Think
"What can a man not accomplish with such a friend, such a councilor, free from any trace of envy or self-interest? It has made you who you are. Think where you would now be, without the stroke of fortune that put his heart into your keeping?"
Oh, yes. This is where things get good. The stakes are higher than ever, there's new and fascinating worldbuilding, Iskierka is there (at least a bit), and it all culminates in Laurence and Temeraire doing something which just completely upends the status quo and clearly redefines their priorities. Nothing can be the same after this book.
On my reread, I've found myself wondering if there are any civilizations in this world where dragons are in fact the primary leaders, rather than subservient or equal, at best, to humans. It seems logical - they're big, they can fly, and some of them can breathe fire or spit acid; surely someone somewhere has to have worshipped them? The Tswana society portrayed in this installment gets closer than any other cultures we've seen so far, though it's not a true dragon-archy but a fascinating blurring of boundaries between humans and dragons. (Still crossing my fingers for later books; I think a dragon-ruled society would fit well into the overarching themes of the series.) I am curious as to how this portrayal of an African 'empire' would be evaluated by a historian with expertise in the area; from my perspective Novik does a nice job avoiding a lot of stereotypes of 'primitive cultures' and presents a culture with a lot of advancements and unique innovations suited to its environment, but I'm not really qualified to evaluate whether this is actually accurate, or if it is respectfully done.
Still, from a reading perspective it's pretty awesome, and I have to admit I fucking love the fact that (view spoiler)[the Tswana razed every slave port on the western coast to the ground. It has me hoping that as a result some of the atrocities of our world are avoided thereafter in this timeline - for instance, if Leopold of Belgium never gets his hands on the Congo. (hide spoiler)] If Novik ever writes stories in this world set further in the future, I would love to see how the ripple effects have played out.
And that's not even the most consequential event of the book. (Well, from a historical perspective, maybe, but not within the frame of this specific story.) The end is simply shattering - the British Government does something which could be described as a war crime or as attempted genocide, and Laurence and Temeraire almost immediately commit high treason to reverse it. This decision is the culmination of Laurence's development so far - he's gone from being dismayed at the very idea of harnessing a dragon to throwing away his career and his life for the sake of dragons he doesn't and will never know. It's not out of character, per se, because from the beginning Laurence has displayed respect for honorable enemies no matter who they might be, but it is an evolution to a more - and I don't mean this as a negative - radical set of values. He's still not leading the charge (that's Temeraire), but he is getting less and less conflicted about the balance between duty and his own sense of right and wrong, and less and less content to go along with injustice because protest is inconvenient.
I realized as I finished this book that I have read Victory of Eagles - I clearly remember a scene with a dragon bragging about a plate, which didn't appear in here, so it must be from the next book. That's all I recall, though, so this should be a fun rediscovery....more
Originally read back in 2009-ish, but it's long past the point when a reread (and a real review) was due.
I just... love this book. I love the concept,Originally read back in 2009-ish, but it's long past the point when a reread (and a real review) was due.
I just... love this book. I love the concept, I love the writing style, and most of all: I love Temeraire. He brings me so much joy - his curiosity, his sense of right and wrong which is simultaneously innocent and revolutionary, his utter love for Laurence. Talking with my GF, who bounced off this book because she didn't like Laurence, I realized that I don't care much about him in particular here; he grows over the course of the story, but I feel like my attachment to him is more about his relationship to Temeraire than Laurence himself. They just! love each other! so much! And there's something lovely about reading a book where the whole core of the story is this deep, selfless bond, sprinkled with delightful interactions like this:
"Does he read to you?" Lady Allendale asked Temeraire, amused. "Yes, you see, I cannot hold them myself, for they are too small, and also I cannot turn the pages very well," Temeraire said.
Also, the mental image of a proper British gentleman calling an enormous dragon 'my dear'. It makes me smile every time.
The worldbuilding is a curious negotiation between exploring the ways in which dragons change history and leaving the timeline intact enough for the Napoleonic Wars to happen. I'd really love to read a worldbuilding bible a la The Dragonlover's Guide to Pern for this setting, or Novik's notes/explanations on what she changed and what she didn't (and I'll go looking for the latter after I've finished the entire series). Obviously, European nations are mostly as they were in our history, but even in this book we get some inkling that the colonization of North America didn't go as planned - the Incan Empire is still around and considered second only to the Chinese in dragon breeding. Coming back to this series 11 years after my first read, with a bit more understanding of world history, I'll be interested to see how British involvement in India is portrayed, since the through-line seems to be of draconic firepower as a great leveler between nations which reduces or eliminates the impact of European imperialism...
I think one of the best-extrapolated bits of worldbuilding is the culture among the aviators, and I have a special love for the fact that Longwings will take only female captains. This is such a great counterexample to all those arguments about how historical fantasy can't have women or people of color as main characters because society at large was sexist/racist - Novik basically says, 'yeah, but I have dragons, so screw that' and uses the fantastical element of her worldbuilding to create space for women in the plot. It's just as plausible to add dragons to a historical setting as it is to decide that some of those dragons will only accept female riders, after all, so why not do both?
There was a time years ago when Peter Jackson optioned the film rights for this series and man, reading the aerial combat scenes, I would really love to see this brought to the screen. What I picture is less akin to LOTR and more in the vein of Pacific Rim - if these books are ever made into film or TV, the director needs to take the same care that Del Toro did in that movie to convey scale. It would be spectacular, in the truest sense of the word.
I am very much looking forward to re/reading the rest of this series....more
Loading...
