The introduction speaks about the fear people have of a post-apocalyptic world, and how for indigenous people, the world has been post-apocalyptic since colonization. I never considered that perspective before, but when I thought about fictional dystopias, it suddenly seemed obvious.
These stories reveal the dystopic world indigenous people have endured. However, the stories also contain hope and optimism. They have an overriding theme that despite centuries of trying to erase indigenous culture and traditions, the people stay strong and come together to support one another. And it shows how their resolve has resulted in positive change.
I think what makes this collection so special is that some of the history was new to me, some of it was not, but learning historical events wasn't the point. It took known historical moments and characters, and changed the lens, moved the perspective, made me see the events I knew in a way I didn't properly consider before. And it changed me. It changed the way I look at this country. It changed the way I read history.
This is a fantastic achievement, put together by incredibly talented writers and artists, and I can't recommend it enough.
The first 2/3rds of the book felt like such a betrayal of the first book's amazingness that I was getting legitimately upset. I thought “how could such a great story by such a captivating writer go this wrong?!” It was confusing and weird and not even that interesting.
But SOMEHOW it was all worth it in the end, and once finished, I considered it a total triumph, except possibly that it leaned pretty hard towards being too much of a mind-f√¢£.
Still, I feel like making me slog through 14 hours (I'm guessing ~350 pages) of subtle torment is a little too unforgivable to allow a 5-star rating.
I was a big fan of the concept and the story kept me going. After all, Martin sure knows how to weave an intriguing murder mystery, and he's a hell of a world builder. But the end fell flat for me, and I wasn't a big fan of the art. The fantastical scenes looked cool but the people all seemed overly cartoonish and the facial expressions all looked the same, so as a graphic novel fan, I was pretty let down.
I was looking for something light hearted and it fulfilled that need, and I'd maybe read more of this since I liked the world, but a bunch of little things bugged me, so I probably wouldn't prioritize it.
I read the prologue of this book and knew I was in for a treat. It was just a council meeting on a far flung space station, but it had all the promise of a giant complex world full of intrigue, action and imagination. And it delivered!
The bulk of the story follows an ambassador from that station navigating her way through the strange culture and politics of a massive empire that controls the space around them. She has two missions: don't let her station get annexed, and find out what happened to the last ambassador we sent. Oh, and protect the secret technology in her brain, obviously. Once I got a handle on the kind of world I was in, the plot moves fast. There's mysteries, lies, a 3-way battle for control of the empire, and in a completely unfamiliar world, no one she feels she can trust.
What really made the story for me though was the uniqueness of the world the author built. The empire is beautiful. Its culture is rich. Some of their traditions seem ancient despite their futuristic technology and dominance over the solar system. Other aspects of the culture simply imagine a world run differently. The main character is constantly torn between idolizing the Empire she's in, and resenting it for the power it wields and its increasing influence on her own world. It's a powerful concept that rings true throughout history and civilization, and because of how well this world is imagined, the reader can intrinsically understand how she feels.
Beyond making powerful statements about history, culture and civilization, the story also comments on technology's role on societies, and on relationships within a world of power imbalances. That sounds like a lot, but somehow the book does all this without feeling too heavy. In fact, when all was said and done, I really wanted more. The world is just so big and amazing, and written so well, I can't wait to see what the sequels will have in store!
4.5
Incredibly powerful and impactful
“Nora said, ‘That's why I picked you... Because you'll understand. It was a ghost town. Some of those boys were dear friends.'”
This is one of those books that is way more than it initially seems while you're reading it. In fact, if I didn't stop once in a while to reflect on the story, I wouldn't have liked it as much. There are parts of the book that made me wonder why it was even included in the story, particularly in the 2015 chapters, but also the details of Yale's art dealings in the 80s. (The book's chapters flip from the 1980s to 2015)
But this is because despite what one might get from the blurb, this isn't simply about the AIDS epidemic in Chicago's gay community, it is also about how we as individuals and societies reckon with unspeakable atrocities. The book is peppered with major world events besides AIDS, and while the characters around it all stop to feel really horrible about it, their own issues quickly take over as being more important. Of course this is natural, and even one of the main characters admits in 2015 that that “Deep down, she didn't care quite on the same visceral level about the ongoing AIDS crisis in Africa”.
Understanding this, the book also contains a side story about a woman's time in post-WWI France, and shows striking similarities between what the war did to a generation of young men in Europe and culture more broadly, and what AIDS did to a generation of young men and culture in America. The book then begs the question of whether the AIDS crisis should be remembered in the same light as the Challenger explosion - of something that happened in the 80s that was really sad - or in the same light as a great war - a key point in our culture's history in which many thousands of innocent young men died far too young - and makes a strong argument for the latter perspective.
Quote from near the end of the book: "I keep thinking of Nora's stories about the guys who just shut down after the war. This is a war, it is. It's like you've been in the trenches for seven years. And no one's gonna understand that. No one's gonna give you a Purple Heart."
Of course, in popular culture, the story of AIDS in America is treated more like simply a sad thing that happened, and there was a quilt and a concert, and now we can talk about something else. And after reading how these gay characters talked about their situation in light of the politics and the stigma of that time, one can't help but think that we treat it as lesser because our culture still sees LGBTQ people and culture as something separate from the rest of our culture, and so AIDS is a sad thing that happened to them and their society, and somehow even though we know better than to treat it as a “gay cancer” now, it still isn't treated like something that happened to all of us. The massive loss of life is all of our loss, like the great wars, and we should treat it that way.
The 2015 parts of the book also have a lot going for them, along the same themes of what matters most to us, and what should matter most, and how we prioritize how and who we love. But I feel I'm rambling, and that part impacted me less viscerally, so I'll avoid going on about other themes I kind of liked, and just encourage you to read the book.
This was a lot of fun to listen to (I audiobooked it). The writing is packed full of humour, and the imagination of different species and technologies is vast. I'm sure that if I continue with this series, there will be no end to the humour and imagination.
But I tend to lean towards books that make me think a little more; where the unique ideas aren't simply creative ideas about possible alien species, but ideas about new ways of thinking. Also, it was altogether too rah-rah military for my liking. The lightheartedness made that bearable, because it felt like a sort of spoof on Starship Troopers, but in the end, the military ideals and action focus that I'm not too big on was prevalent.
I was looking for something to listen to which would fill the void in my life in all the months between James S A Corey's Expanse novels, but this fell a little short for me. The moral complexities, character development, and level of detail in the Expanse are far superior to what this story offers. Though I enjoyed the style of the writing, I just didn't care too much about the story itself.
I absolutely loved the first book in this series, and while I continue to love the protagonist and its development, I felt a bit let down by the book as a whole.
For such a short book, it took a while to get going, and overall, I just didn't care for the storyline much. The world building was also a bit confusing. I found it difficult to know what was and was not possible for characters to do. The ship's artificial intelligence (ART) was a fantastic character, but its abilities bordered on omniscient, and I couldn't really wrap my head around it. Murderbot could also instantly hack and alter pretty much everything she interacted with, and the playful way it's all explained doesn't actually clarify much.
The first book didn't do much explaining either, but the setting was much more controlled, so I didn't mind the lack of detail at all. Now though, Murderbot is traveling into new parts of a bigger world with more diverse tech, but can still somehow instantly hack everything. It just left me feeling a little adrift.
The strength of All Systems Red may get me to read the third book, but I'm less sure I want to continue the series now. I want to keep reading about Murderbot, but I'm just not sure one kick ass character can carry four novellas and a novel.
Just a stunning story. The pacing, the protagonist, the depth of the world, the complexity of the conflict, and the end! Wow.
This series is going to be really something. It's got some pretty shockingly gory moments, so it's not for the squeamish, but if you want something with the depth of Name of the Wind, but with better pacing, a more complex character, it's golden.
As far as sympathetic villains go, this was really clever. Finally, we're starting to understand the motivations of the enemy, and I'm really impressed with the world building. Still suffering from a bit of whiplash at how much the story has changed though.
What if we missed our first contact with aliens? Would it change what it means to be human, or will we just keep going about our little human lives? And what does it mean to be human anyway?
Roadside Picnic imagines a world that has apparently been visited by aliens, but the only evidence of this is the odd spaces and artifacts they left behind.
The story is primarily told through Redrick, a “stalker” who goes into the zones and brings back odd artifacts for money. It's a dangerous job, but he's more concerned about doing right by his family and friends than he is about getting crushed by a gravity anomaly or other strange occupational hazard. He's a gruff, stoical man, with some character traits (casual violence, objectifying women) that have aged poorly, like so many protagonists from the mid 20th century. But he's clearly more compassionate than he lets on, and it's obvious that he's what this society would consider a good man.
Told through him, the narration swaps between his moment-to-moment point of view and more narrative reflections, such that we understand his state of being well enough, but never quite know what's going to happen next. It can feel jarring from time to time, but it works well with the strange and mysterious setting of “the zone.”
For one chapter in the middle of the book, the perspective changes to a morally questionable businessman as he makes his way through his day. I found this portion to be the most enjoyable because it widens our view of the world enough to get a clear grip of what's going on, and briefly, it really leans into the philosophies underlying the whole scenario. There's a classic Socratic discourse between people of varying drunkenness at one point, and those 10ish pages really tied the whole story together for me.
Roadside Picnic is both uniquely of its time, and timeless. Being written in Soviet Russia, but taking place in North America, the story draws an interesting sketch of what Russians thought life was like on the other side of the Iron Curtain, and the Afterword describes the trials of the soviet publishing industry in fascinatingly mundane detail. But the story isn't special because of its cultural connection. It's special because it took a standard sci-fi trope and made it into a poignant statement about the human condition.
What an ending! What a series! The moment I finished it, I wanted to read it again. So much happened in this last book, that looking back at the way I felt about the first book, the story was just so much bigger, I think this would be just as fun of a re-read as it was a read.
And some of the quotes and ideas in this final one are just incredibly powerful. I thought that the first book would be the strongest for these social racial analogies and that the others would focus more on the created world and the plot, which was mostly the case with the second one. This one though was just as hard hitting as the first, with analogies about cyclical racial dominance and racial superiority being dependant on creating the idea of a dangerous and inferior race.
I loved the way Hoa's own story finally comes in to play in this book as well. The last two were very intriguing partly because there were so many questions and loose ends, and the Syl Analgist chapters bring it all together in such a fascinating way.
If I had any criticism, it is that I never had a comfortable grasp on how the magic/silver could be used, but because the main characters felt it more than understood it, I think it was written so that the readers could also feel what was possible without necessarily knowing, so I don't think my confusion was a fault of the writing or my reading but kind of intentional. It was a little odd, but I was ok with that ambiguity in the end.
I cannot recommend this series enough. Stop reading reviews and read it now!
I really enjoyed the way this started with a totally new perspective: a child who's spent most of her life on a planet in another solar system(Laconia), completely cut off from the Earth-Mars-Outer Planet societies. Using that perspective gave a whole other angle to the oft-used innocent child perspective.
The story then starts to give the vibe of Pet Semetary with Aliens, and I was beginning to worry that the seemingly never-ending originality of James S.A. Corey had peaked. Of course, I was wrong. One should realise after reading the last six books and novellas that if there's one thing Corey never lacks, it's originality.
I can't wait to see how Laconia ties in to the series!
This one choked me up a bit. What a cliffhanger ending! I can't believe people had to wait 4 years for the next issue!
This is spectacular writing; a true Canadian talent, telling a story about small town Canada and native/metis life that is very powerful and incredibly relevant. It covers some very dark and disturbing issues, but if you're looking for an intimate portrayal of how tough life can be for vulnerable women, few books can compare to the stories of the women in this book.
What struck me first was the sheer quality of writing. The story is written from the perspectives of a number of women (and one man), and swaps perspectives every chapter. Without using excessive description or pontification, the writing instantly makes you see the world through the eyes of the character of focus, understand how they feel, see how they see the people around them. Because this is done so effectively, I got to the point where a number of characters would be together in a room, and I'd instantly understand the dynamics between all of the characters. That really made the book come to life for me.
One thing I found overwhelming was the sheer amount of horrible things that happened to these women. It made me (a sheltered white guy) think “Can things really be that bad?!” My assumption is that the author is writing from experience and that things actually are that bad. A part of me wants to hope she's exaggerating, but deep down I know she probably is not. So the book was definitely an eye opener, but it was hard to take it all in, and I'm still reeling from it.
Broke my heart a little to say goodbye to this series, but it was such a fantastic finish. It could easily have been two books, but it moved at a breakneck pace keeping my ears glued to the story (because audiobook) while still going deep in concept and character.
This series is a true masterwork of science fiction.
This is the best one yet, hands down! At this point, the story could ride on the laurels of the character depth and storyline that has been laid down by previous books, but the intensity and creativity just keep getting better, and the story is more epic than ever.
I have no idea how they are going to wrap this story up in the next novel, facing off against the most unimaginable enemy yet, but I'm sure I'll love every second of it. Then there will be a black hole in my yearly reading where the Expanse novels once were...
This book is very powerful in its ability to put human faces and realities to all of the overwhelming statistics we read about incarceration. It also is unique in its clarity in stating how the United States came to be the world's largest jailor, and how it ended up so obviously discriminatory in who it locks up.
I won't belittle this book's arguments by summarizing them or picking out particular quotes, because although it's packed full of powerful statements, it's the research and stories around those powerful statements that really make the book so important. If race and justice are important to you, read this book. It is clear, concise, and it has permanently changed the way I look at the justice system.
The writing and art was pretty cool, and the premise seemed really promising: a post-apocalyptic hellscape, where supervillains have taken control and Logan is just trying to live a normal life. That proves impossible of course, but then the story takes a sudden and unexpected turn. Logan finds himself back in the present day, but in an alternate history to his own, packed with slightly altered versions of classic Avengers.
This is what drives me crazy about Marvel. Why the constant need to integrate the staple Marvel characters into every series? Why the need to recycle stories and characters in “alternate universes”? And why does it take a smart guy like Logan sooo long to figure out that he is obviously in a different universe? Instead of staying in a unique world with unique characters, the story falls back on a revenge plot packed with psuedo-Avengers. The epilogue though goes back to the post-apocalyptic story, and like the intro, it is visceral, dark and gripping. I also really like the epilogue's artist.
So basically, half the story was great, but the other half was a little too generic, and sadly it seems like the generic half is the main story, so I'm not going to stick with the series. For those who like the classic Marvel characters and storylines, this might be a fun mix of classic avengers and dark originality, but the classic Marvel stuff just made me groan, personally.
There were so many talented writers in this selection of short stories, and I really enjoyed all the different takes on what a post-climate change world would look like. Some were more rooted in reality than others, but almost every one of these stories was enjoyable in its own right.
What I valued most though was just the opportunity to get snippets of so many well-known and up-and-coming SFF writers. It really helped me to get an idea of whose writing appealed to me more. Kim Stanley Robinson and Charlie Jane Anders topped the list for me, but I also loved the stories by Paul McAuley, Ken Liu, Lavie Tidhar and Catherynne Valente, and am now eager to read more of their work.
I think it really says a lot when you ask an author to write about a specific theme, and see what they come up with. And to see how diverse all the stories ended up being was a total pleasure, despite the bleak subject matter. Also, a surprising amount of the stories were light-hearted (or at least had light-hearted moments). The future is not all doom and gloom, even if in retrospect, maybe not causing global warming would've been nice.
I think Valente put it best at the end of her story, which was also the end of the book: “We can't go back, not ever, not even for a minute. We are so lucky. Life is so good. We're going on and being alive and being shitty sometimes and lovely sometimes just the same as we always have, and only a Fuckwit couldn't see that.” - Well said!
At first I thought that the way a lot of these characters were acting was unrealistically irrational and I didn't like that there were no recognizable characters from the Expanse series, but as some familiar names started to emerge, I began connecting the dots and after rereading the Epilogue of Nemesis Games (which is something i HIGHLY recommend) everything came together in a fantastic way.
This novella definitely adds a lot of depth to the series and I am sure that it will add to the pleasure of reading Babylon's ashes, so if you're committed to this series, this is a very rewarding short read.
A Perfect Far Future SF Tale
After feeling that Becky Chambers' Space Adventure books felt a little too soft and shallow, this story filled the void I didn't know existed.
The philosophical concepts both personal and political were fantastically fleshed out: free will, identity, what a perfect society would be, how much government control is too much. All these concepts were pushed to the edge, but in a way that never felt preachy.
At the same time, the story was excellent and gripping. I never felt like I knew what would happen next, and the stakes kept growing in unpredictable ways. It really blew me away.
I'm a big SF fan and this is possibly my new favourite book. I've already bought the sequel, and may just have to become an Elizabeth Bear completest.
Such a great and engaging series of lectures! I feel like my head is bursting with cool facts and new perspectives. The lecturer's enthusiasm for the subject is obvious and he actually manages to work humour and stories into the lessons quite a lot, so it doesn't feel like you are just being bombarded with facts along a timeline.
He'll occasionally share famous poems, plays or tales from the time to give the listener a peek into the culture of the time, and with controversial historical figures such as Brutus in Rome or Theodora of Constantinople, he makes sure to offer competing perspectives in an unbiased manner.
The lectures are all half hour chunks making them perfect for listening to on a stroll or while working through a pile of dishes, and although it might feel like to much info to casually digest, there is a very thorough PDF accompaniment to refer back to at any time.
Highly recommended to anyone looking to round out their knowledge of history and ancient cultures.
The Must Read of our Generation
Every couple of years, a book comes along that perfectly encapsulates the cultural issues of a generation. This is that book. It was one of the most powerful books I have ever read. It is a small book, but every sentence seems to pack its own punch.
Coates tackles the idea of race and racism in the wake of the recent public displays of police officers murdering black people. This book is brutally honest . It does not glorify black history, it does not speak of faith or the belief in equality. It tells you what it is like to be “them” in the Us vs. Them world of the United States. It tells you why a kid in an impoverished neighbourhood run by gangs doesn't see the value of learning French in school. It tells you why the author is not at all surprised to find that the officer who killed Trayvon Martin would not be charged and would receive a pension.
Perhaps the reason I found this so powerful was that because he was raised without religion, he does not look to God for answers or believe in an ultimate justice. Instead, he questions the “Dreamers” and wonders why Black people are taught to idolize nonviolence in a country founded on violent revolutions. His perspective is just so raw, so open and so clear, it is as if his consciousness is tangible.
I recommend this to literally everyone. I can only hope this becomes a book that everyone reads in school some day, because it is vital for every person. Whether you are a privileged white man like me or someone who for whatever reason feels like they're less than their peers, this book is crucial to understand the world we live in.