#70 – The Bone Witch, by Rin Chupeco
- Read: 5/13/20 – 5/16/20
- Mount TBR: 66/150
- The Reading Frenzy: Read a book that features a ghost, ghost hunter, vampire, vampire hunter, or zombie
- Rating: 2/5 stars
I think I would very much like the story this wanted so badly to be, but I don’t care much for the story that it actually is.
At the conceptual level, it’s got a lot going for it. Let’s have dark geisha mages! Let’s have our protagonist be a rogue necromancer plotting to take down the incredibly flawed system of her world!
But in the end, I don’t buy it. There’s too much focus on the world-building, especially in the constant descriptions of everyone’s
kimono sorry hua, but also in smaller but just as irritating ways, like how the eventual reveal of the enemy hidden in their midst is a total ass-pull that relies on cultural cues and missteps that the reader couldn’t possibly know ahead of time because most of the world is just names on a map at the beginning without any real thought behind them. Sure, it looks like elaborate world-building to have all these places and all this royalty, but really, this novel is a very long game of dolls playing dress-up.
I see what the dual timeline/POVs were trying to do–showing Tea at the height of both her power and her darkness in the short chapter breaks, while telling us the story of how she got that way in the past through her own perspective–except that by the end of the book, it’s all just elaborate setup with no payoff. I don’t know why Tea is “evil” now–though I’m not sure evil is the right word, because wanting to destroy a presumably corrupt and ineffective world system isn’t strictly evil, it’s just revolutionary, literally speaking. And I’d be on board for a rogue necromancer revolutionary, except that this novel did. not. tell me how she got that way. There’s a huge gap between where Tea’s “past” story breaks off and where she is in the “present.”
And it involves the weakest love triangle I’ve ever seen. She literally asks one guy out on a date at the end of the book (the one we know she’s had a crush on the whole time) only to resurrect someone else entirely and call him “my love.” She hints very early on to the nameless narrator of the chapter breaks that she loved two men, so it’s not like I didn’t know there would be a love triangle, it just waited until the final pages to actually show up. And it’s dumb.
This disappoints me that much more because where the story left off, I mostly do want to find out what happens next. Does she raze the world to the ground with her seven magical beasts? Does she become a horrible dictator in the process, or a goddess of destruction, or a vengeful raging maniac? These are interesting questions I don’t usually find myself asking about the female protagonist of a YA fantasy novel. But if finding out is going to mean wading through 400 more pages of fashion shows, I’m not going to bother.
#71 – Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie
- Read: 5/17/20 – 5/20/20
- Around the Year in 52 Books: A book related to Maximilian Hell, the noted astronomer and Jesuit Priest who was born in 1720 [set in space]
- Mount TBR: 67/150
- Rating: 5/5 stars
I’ve been disappointed by a lot of modern sci-fi over the past few years, but this is solid gold and I loved it.
It took a little bit of getting into–I can’t be sure if the beginning is actually too slow-paced or if my focus was lacking, which has been an issue for me lately. The first hundred pages weren’t dull, but they weren’t as gripping as I expected, either.
Something clicked, though, soon after that, and I read the rest of the book in just over a day. As I read more books in general and more varied types of books, it’s becoming rarer that I can say “I couldn’t put this book down” but here it’s true. I resented having to go to sleep with sixty pages to go, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.
I haven’t read any sci-fi that examines gender like this, nothing since The Left Hand of Darkness, and while I felt echoes of that foundational work here, it wasn’t simply retreading the same ground. I think it gains something from coming the issue from an AI perspective; I know enough about modern-day machine learning that I can imagine teaching an AI to identify the gender of an unknown individual reliably, with acceptable accuracy, would not be an easy task. At first I found it a slightly uncomfortable experience not to know the “true” gender of a character (except for those few who were, at some point, referred to in a language that had gendered pronouns, showing Breq to be correct or incorrect about her assumptions) but before long I had adapted, just going with it that everyone was female and that was fine. (I skimmed other reviews briefly, and some people are definitely fixated on properly assigning gender to the characters, especially the two involved in a romantic relationship–“which one is the man and which is the woman?” But I had no problem with the idea that they were both female, and wouldn’t have any issue if they were both male either. This book is very queer-compatible.]
Beyond the gender issue, though, there’s even more to say about identity and artificial intelligence. At what point did the experiences and personalities of Justice of Toren and One Esk diverge enough to be considered separate? How can a single individual fracture and become an enemy to herself? How does identity intersect with personal freedom or societal conformity, and how much personal freedom is even possible as an AI under a brutally strict regime with a dictator who has the power to modify the ship’s memories?
I was fascinated by everything and look forward to the next book a great deal.
#72 – The Murmur of Bees, by Sofia Segovia
- Read: 5/20/20 – 5/21/20
- Mount TBR: 68/150
- The Reading Frenzy: A book set in Mexico
- Rating: 1/5 stars
DNF @ 20%.
Too many POVs, not enough story. There’s no way this was going to hold my attention for hundreds of pages more, when one-fifth of the way through there’s absolutely no trajectory to the plot. I’m struggling to even predict what the plot could be, there’s so little groundwork laid aside from some vague-but-ham-fisted foreshadowing. So far the many changes in narrator have introduced me to most of the members of the family this story is (apparently) about, but in spreading itself so thin across so many characters, there’s no momentum, nothing for me to be interested in enough to keep going.
And then I set it down after reading an almost entirely unrelated, tangential sequence of chapters about how the 1918 influenza epidemic affected the town…but not through the eyes of any of the characters I’d already met. It’s about somebody else who goes to the graveyard when he’s sure he’s dying, only then he recovers, and when he returns home he accidentally frightens his mother to death, but then the rest of his family and, later, the church, hail him as a modern Lazarus.
First, what does any of that have to do with what little story we actually have been given prior; and second, I personally found the chapters about the epidemic had an almost disrespectful, tongue-in-cheek tone to them, minimizing the suffering and death, treating it as dull and humdrum, in order to set up the story of the “resurrected” man. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so bothered by it if I had read this last year when I got it, but now, with how the world is currently, it turned my stomach.
Regardless of that, I doubt I would have finished the book, because it felt scattered and tedious.