Grade: Γ — (Gamma) A good or even fantastic book within the genre, possibly worth reading regardless of which genres you like, but has a setting or style that is likely to be unappealing to individuals who are not fans of a given genre. This is the highest grade that many very good books that are part of a series can receive, since series require an investment in reading that normally only appeals to fans of that genre.
In brief:
Technically, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson is a ‘Cold Case, Locked Door Mystery’ that takes place in remote Sweden, but really it’s about the personal and societal mistreatment of women. As such, a slightly pedestrian mystery becomes a very good book to read… and even better to listen to.
Setting:
Sweden, early 2000′s.
In Depth:
Make no mistake about it, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a book about the denigration of women. Oh, don’t get me wrong, on the surface it’s a Cold Case, Locked Door Mystery that takes place in remote Sweden, but really it’s about the personal and societal disrespect of women. The degree to which this is the case can be found in it’s Swedish title, Män som hatar kvinnor: “Men Who Hate Women.”
In one way or another, there is not a single male character in the book who does not in some way denigrate women, be it in the form of violent rape, condescending over protection, benign neglect, or simple irresponsible obliviousness; men just do not come off very well in this book. That’s ok, because neither do many of the women. Many, though by no means all, also play a part in mistreatment of the female gender either through their own acts or through their ability to ignore or even cover up their mistreatment. As such, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo paints a fairly damning portrait of Swedish society – and if we are honest with ourselves, the rest of Western Society as well.
In this respect, the book could almost qualify as an Alpha rating. In the end it doesn’t because the prose is not the best (even taken into account that it was translated from the original Swedish)[1] and while the plot was solid enough, it was not all that outstanding.
The framework on which the book is built is a cold-case locked room mystery, and as such is perfectly adequate. It does, however, rely quite heavily on ‘burying the clues in too much information.’[2] Now, that by itself is totally acceptable, but I could see the smoke and mirrors that serve to hide who the real antagonist of the tale is. What is more, I saw the final plot twist coming from the moment we discovered what the central mystery of the story was. In its favor, however, is the fact that it didn’t hide any information at all — and that is a bit of a relief in modern mystery writing.
To that end, if you are a mystery fan and want a decent enough story, this is a perfectly serviceable novel, but really, it is an awful lot more. It really is quite an interesting read. It has solid characters and makes insightful points about society in a manner that does not come off as preachy. A good read for anyone interested.
Notes about the Audio Edition:
Simon Vance lived up to his excellent performance levels again while narrating this book. Listening to him is always a pleasure as that he can take a mediocre book and make it truly enjoyable. In this case, he took a good book and made it better, but he did something more; he did something that is a bit noteworthy.
The now famous protagonist of this story, Lisbeth Salander, has become a bit of a cult icon. Portrayed in this and two other novels, she is described in the text as being under five feet tall, 90 lbs, and a natural red head who dyes her hair black. A societal dysfunctional with a cunning analytical mind and an almost inhuman detachment, Larsson notes her as being emotionally removed at best and cold in her interactions.
To that end, it seemed at first quite interesting to me that Vance decided to read her using a classic southern English working/underclass accent. Not the sort of depressed monosyllabic type, mind you, but rather the more agitated, smart and streetwise cadence. Oh it is a 100% accurate to the type of goth-cum-punk you meet in London on any given day, but certainly doesn’t match the character as described.
At first I was surprised by this, then I realized the degree of Mr. Vance’s talent. Despite the discrepancy in his portrayal of her from what is described in the very text he is reading, I was not at all drawn out of the story by it. Indeed, perhaps even the opposite.
The reason is simple, Vance’s portrayal matched the archetype of a kind of person I had met and talked to a hundred times. From the moment I heard him read Lisbeth’s voice I understood a central piece of her socio-economic and educational background. As her story unfolded, that was built upon, but why the tough in your face attitude as opposed to the tough cold fish attitude? After all, that what is outlined in the text and exactly how both actresses who played the part on screen portrayed it…
And that is when the answer came to me: the actresses played the role on screen. Cinema and television are media where subtleties can be shown with minor facial expressions and sympathy can be built just by being attractive. In an audiobook, a performer is not given that luxury. Quite aside from being a man, Mr. Vance cannot show us what Lisbeth is like by raising an eyebrow or narrowing his eyes, he must portray her through what is said in the text and how he reads it.
Now, the text more than adequately describes Lisbeth, but if Vance were to have read her parts in a deadpan style, not only would it have it been a bit boring to listen to, we would have lost sympathy with her – as indeed many of the characters in the book did.
To that end, Simon Vance’s deep understanding of the audio medium is shown. If he had read Lisbeth Salander in the manner she is described in the book, the listener would have been put off the character and most likely the whole story (she does, after all, have a lot of lines). Instead, his choice of working class, street tough, in-your-face Londish accent, keeps the listener engaged with the tale and sympathetic to Lisbeth, but does not pull the listener out of the story despite the discrepancy.
Well done Mr. Vance… yet again you added to my enjoyment of a book.
[1] Indeed, I’ve heard comment the English translation is better than the original Swedish, but I have absolutely no basis upon which to judge that.
[2] That is to say, it is a bit of a “Death By Red Herring.” There are so many red herrings in the book you really could cut down the mightiest tree in the forest with them.
Far future interstellar space with Faster than Light (FTL) travel and numerous alien species. Human civilization has fragmented slightly with at least two interstellar human polities, the Unified Worlds and the Dominion, though there are suggestions that others might well exist. Some of the other interstellar races are also Balkanized. There are suggestions throughout this text that both the alien cultures and the human politics have depths greater than those directly discussed in the book itself – hopefully to be revealed in the later volumes.
In Depth:
Tristan grew up a human among aliens. Now he must use his alienness to survive among humans.
Ganwold’s Child was Diann Read’s first novel and at times it shows,[2] but what also shows is the deep thought that she put into the world she created and the reality that stems from her clear military background. Together, these elements make for a fun and light but engaging read that will appeal to many Science Fiction fans. Indeed, though I categorize this both under YA (because of the youthful age of the central protagonist) and Military Science Fiction (because of clear military elements in the second half of the book), I think it will appeal to any fan of Sci Fi who wants a straight forward, fun “does what it says on the tin” type of a read. To that end, when I give it a Delta, I mean that it will appeal to readers of the whole Science Fiction genre, and not just readers of YA or MilFic subgenres.
In essence, this book is the story of Tristan, the son of two high powered Military officers: his mother an MD, his father the head of a Special Ops/Intelligence division. Yet an accident and attack by slavers at the outset of the book leaves the toddler aged Tristan and his mother stranded on an alien world deep inside of enemy territory. The opening sequence, a sample of which is provided in varying formats here (LINK) and below, immediately drew me into the story.[3]
Fear of capture and exploitation leads Tristan’s mother to raise the boy among the Gan, a feral, tribal and truly matriarchal alien culture.[4] As such, Tristan grows up as much a part of this alien culture as he is human and in some senses more so. Unlike many such stories, what struck me the most was the importance of that cultural upbringing throughout the book. While Tristan intellectually understands that human culture is not matriarchal (and the culture presented by Read in this book suggests that it is even a tad more male dominated that I hope the future will be), he and his Gan ‘brother,’ Pulou, still react to interactions expecting a female dominated culture. This comes into play throughout the story, not just as background, but as central elements to choices they make in the tale. [5] Usually such a cultural difference in novels (science fiction and otherwise) comes across merely as window dressing, so seeing a difference reflected throughout a book is truly refreshing to see.
Indeed, perhaps my greatest complaint of the book is that we don’t see more of the Gan culture, nor do we delve very greatly into Pulou very much. This character could well have been developed with much greater depth, and similarly, I would loved to have seen more scenes of Tristan’s early life among the Gan. Perhaps these elements will come out more as I read more deeply into the Sergey Chronicles. Even so, wanting more of such an element in a book is hardly a bad thing, and I do wonder if it was trimmed to suit an editor’s choice. If so, it is a pity, because at the conclusion of the book there are outcomes of dealings with alien cultures that didn’t quite jibe with my understanding of the interstellar.[6] Regardless, the suggestion of deeper alien cultures and complex politics that are not info-dumped on a hapless reader are generally a good thing.
Other shining parts of the novel come from the author’s military background. There are scenes of flight academy examinations that are presented with such realism that one has no doubt that Ms. Read once served in the Air Force. Similarly, there is an Intelligence Briefing shown towards the second half of the novel that read with 100% accuracy regarding both the tone of the meeting and the kinds of information being used to form the conclusions. No super-secret spy providing high stakes intelligence, but rather ship movements that could be recorded by anyone able to observe bases; very realistic, with one exception – not nearly as dull as real world intelligence briefings.
This leads to the last element of the book that makes it stand out from many MilFic tales – the politics. As noted before, in the realm of Military Science Fiction there are two basic types of plotlines: the Soldier’s Story and the Tale of Tactics. Where it is a MilFic tale, Ganwold’s Child definitely fits more into the former than the latter. As noted by many critics of the MilFic genre, both styles of story tend to be light on the politics behind the war, but this is more so with the Soldier’s Story.[7] The reasons for this are simple: most soldiers (or officers, or ratings, starmen, space marines or what have you) do not have very significant inputs into the politics of a situation. In general, if you are on the front line, you are not making the policy decisions that lead you into the war in the first place.
In this book, and hopefully the rest of the Sergey Chronicles, Diann Thornley Read manages to overcome this weakness by including the personal politics of an Admiral and his family at the center of the tale. In this way, Read manages to keep the story a personal tale (which is, after all, the core nature of most Military Science Fiction) while also introducing the broader Interstellar politics into the mix. How this will play out in the series as a whole has yet to be seen, but it certainly sets up the potential for an unique approach that will play well.
As for the plot, Ganwold’s Child is a straight forward action tale that ‘does what it says on the tin’: a good, fun read that introduces a world and hints a greater depth. It is a bit of MilFic that doesn’t get bogged down with too much techy detail, and a touch of YA that isn’t simply a boy’s wish-fulfillment style novel. To that end, I would recommend it as a good book to pick up for any fan of science fiction who would like a light read. As that it is free this weekend, 18th and 19th of May (2013), it would be a pity to pass it by.
[1] Originally released in the 1990′s by TOR as The Saga of the Unified Worlds, the series has been re-released by the author under the more appropriate name: The Sergey Chronicles.
[2] And who am I to criticize right? First books are first books, mine included.
[3] Though, I will admit that my status as a helicopter dad may well have something to do with that.
[4] Males have a strong role in society, but females – particularly mothers – have a central decision making role and males are clearly deferential to almost subservience to them. Males take no part in childrearing and there are no patrilineal bonds, nor masculine input to group decision making. Females make a decision, the males submit to it – apparently on a biological level – except, perhaps, when the good of the matriarch outweighs that choice. As such, females are the important part of the society.
[6] Mind you, I could just have missed something while read… I have been missing a lot of sleep recently.
[7] Actually, this is a criticism of MilFic that is generally both unfair and inaccurate. While it is true that most MilFic does not go into the politics behind a tale, that is generally because the stories are about individuals in combat (often enlisted men). What is more, there are a large number of stories that do put the politics of a war into the tale. Regardless, this is a topic for another post.
Grade: Δ — (Delta) A good, solid read, but only buy it if you like the genre.
In brief:
Broken Aro is the first installment of the new Fantasy Romance series, The Broken Ones by the talented author Jen Wylie. With the second volume of the series due to come out on June 1st, it seemed an appropriate time to review this book. As you know, I don’t often venture into the Fantasy Romance category, and certainly never dove this far to the Romance side of the subgenre, but this series has a very appealing central character, and at least one scene that was remarkably well delivered. Thus, I suspect this is a really good addition to anyone who enjoys the genre, and could well be worth examining for someone interested in the mechanics of writing.
Setting:
A High Fantasy world with numerous races, most notably, Fae (wild demi-humans with mild magic and berserker tendencies), Elves (very magical beings who… well they’re elves), Were (as in were-wolf: shape shifters, unknown in magical strength) and Dragons (extremely powerful creatures of deep magic capable of taking human form).
In Depth:
Broken Aro: Book One of The Broken Ones by Jen Wylie is a difficult piece for me to review. The biggest reason for this is that, while I do review Fantasy Romance cross-genre novels, this is the first such book that I have reviewed that is really more Romance than Fantasy in its structure and feel. That lends it some very considerable strengths, and one or two weaknesses (for me anyway). What is more, while there are one or two elements of the tale that bother the archaeologists in me,[1] there are also a lot of parts that I liked and some that I loved. To that end, I have decided to break with my normal format and instead set my review out in terms of what I liked, disliked and loved.
Before I do that, however, I will note that the real reason I gave this a Delta rating is that the form of the story, that of a very personal tale driven by character relationships, may well not appeal to those who are not in the mood for a Fantasy Romance novel. There are no epic battles, no explorations of magical mechanics, no trappings of the classic High Fantasy style. It is a tale about people and their inter-relationships, albeit set against a background that hints at moving towards a more epic conclusion. To that end, it is an enjoyable book with at least one totally brilliantly written scene.
Now, on to the details.
What I liked:
The narrative of this tale is well written, flows cleanly and draws the reader in very very nicely. It is a perfect relaxing read that encourages you to consider what is happening, without forcing to analyze every sentence.[2]
More than that, however, I liked Aro, the central and POV character of the book. The adolescent daughter of a high ranking soldier (general) caught in the invasion of her home city and forced to dress as a boy to escape capture. All does not go according to plan, however, and she is taken on board a slave ship, still mistaken for a boy and… well that is where the story get’s going.
As a character, she was immediately likable and Wylie did a wonderful job of pulling me into her head. Since I’ve never been a teenaged girl, this is quite the trick. What is more, while Aro comes across as a strong, intelligent girl, she remains a girl in her mind set. She makes mistakes, the kinds of mistakes that the teenaged tomboy daughter of a well placed middle class single father might make. Totally believable in her scope and execution, Aro starts as sympathetic and becomes even more so as the story progresses. It is her tale and her sympathetically awkward way of dealing with the relationships she is thrust into that drew me through the novel and makes me look forward to the next installment.[3]
What I didn’t Like:
This, in fact, leads me to the first element of what I didn’t like about the book: how the social structure within the world was portrayed. Now, before I go off on this, this is HARDLY a problem unique to Ms. Wylie’s world. Indeed, it is one reason I don’t tend to review most High Fantasy novels anymore; they tend to use Medievalesque settings for their worlds, and yet most have NO REFLECTION of what life in a Medieval Aristocracy was like. This is particularly true of those High Fantasy worlds written by Americans. Or indeed, historical fiction novels written by Americans.[4]
In a similar way, the world of The Broken Ones fails properly reflection of the nature of the kind of social hierarchy that its characters seem to live in. Even in a made up hierarchical social system, lines such as ‘soldiers don’t tend to get along well with Princes’ breaks my suspension of disbelief to pieces. If the aristocracy does not have the support of the military, how does it maintain any control what so ever? Certainly not out of respect, considering the way Aro’s fellow slaves treated the Prince hidden in their midst. Without a believable social structure, the tale suffers. Even so, this modernized portrayal of social class systems is hardly unique to this series, and I’m sure it won’t bother most fans of the genre.[5]
The second element that pulled me slightly out of the narrative was in the way that Aro’s hidden gender was revealed to some characters in the early-to-middle part of the book. Without going into spoilers, it seemed to me that there were a series of consecutive or near consecutive chapters in which one person, then another, then another discovers Aro’s secret (that she is a girl) and promises to look after her. This could have been handled a bit more deftly, even perhaps in a single reveal.
Finally, there was a slightly odd moment late in the book where the nature of the narrative and most specifically the nature of the setting suddenly changed and seemed to skip forward quite abruptly. I cannot really discuss this in detail without spoiling, but I found the sudden alteration and its impact on the nature of the tale pulled me out of the story. I did return to the tale, and enjoyed the rest of it a great deal, but I never did get as fully back to the world as I had been.
What I loved:
Having said that, what I loved about the tale puts my complaints into the minor category. As I was about two thirds of the way through the book I began to think that there were no consequences for Aro, then suddenly there were, and they were there in spades.
I had come to like Aro a good deal, a great deal actually, and was happily following her story when suddenly the ramifications of being a girl hiding her gender in amongst a group of men came to bare. I won’t go into detail,[6] because that would be a spoiler, but what we see occur is the most graphically realistic and totally unpleasant representation of violence I have read. The act, the ramifications, everything; it made me ill and it should have. It doesn’t spoil the romance element of the book, indeed, it actually adds to it by giving realism and complexity to the situation.
Indeed, I was tempted to give this a Gamma or even Beta rating due to that scene, but I do suspect that many non-fantasy romance readers would not like the tale’s focus on personal character arcs rather than high adventure.
In Closing
If do you like Romance in a High Fantasy setting, I’d highly recommend picking up this novel, and doing so now as that the Kindle version is on sale for $0.99 . That will give you plenty of time to read this before the second volume comes out on June 1st.
[1] (mind you, these are now almost universal to all High Fantasy novels, so hardly fair to harp on Ms. Wylie for them
[2] Of course, those who follow this blog know that I love a book that allows you to contemplate the meaning and revelations in every sentence, and even some that force you to think about the sentences themselves (i.e. Foucoult’s Pendulum and Feersum Endjinn). That, however, is not always what you want, and there is also an art and skill to delivering a story that “Does Exactly What it Says on the Tin.”
[3] And yes, I fully look forward to reading Broken Prince, which is due out in stores on June 1st.
[4] The WORST example of this that comes to mind was in the Kevin Costner movie Robin Hood – Prince Of Theives, where Will Scarlet (played by Christian Slater) refers to the titular Robin of Loxley (Kevin Costner) as a “Rich Boy” when taunting him at one of their early meetings. Now, to boil down the social strata of a class system based around hereditary nobility as in someway being tied solely to monetary wealth is terrible for all sorts of reasons, not least of which is that nobles might well not be as rich as some merchant commoners were and how important other elements of social prestige were…. But I digress.
[6]MILD SPOILER ALERT – DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO AVOID ANY SPOILERS:
In the middle of a scene, in the middle of the night, we are witness to the single most realistic scene of sexual violence I have ever read. I won’t go into what happens, since that is a spoiler (and indeed even discussing it is a bit of one), but what we see is a horrifying sequence that is treated with wonderful skill by the author. The events and their impact alter the story and indeed, almost made me give it a Beta rating, as that I think the way this scene reads is worth even opponents of the Fantasy Romance Genre’s perusal. It captures the horror of such events without in any way being titillating. Well done Ms. Wylie… you may quote this if you want.
Science Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fantasy, Rip-Roaring Adventure, Classic Sci Fi, Military Fantasy, Military Speculative Fiction
Grade: Δˡ — (Delta Prime) A good read, but only if you like the genre (or subgenre).
In brief:
Empire of the East by Fred Saberhagen is the omnibus collection of a science fantasy novel. It is a rip-roaring adventure whose best parts are hard to describe without giving spoilers. Though unlikely to appeal to those who don’t like Fantasy or Science Fiction, this book is a truly fun novel that added a unique twist to the entire speculative fiction genre at the time of its first publication. My best recommendation for those who might be interested is not to read the jacket cover, nor any descriptions of the text since almost everything out there that describes the work reveals the best element of it – discovering the Saberhagen’s world through reading about it.
Setting:
A Cold War analogy world, with magic, demons, monsters and more, where free people live in the western part of a large continent, and a cruel empire commands the Eastern part. The world is populated by wizards, intelligent birds, wyvern-like speaking reptiles, and demons with vast powers. It would be very easy to give more description, and almost anywhere you look you will find it, but I think going into greater detail will destroy the greatest pleasure of reading this book, which was the revelations that come as you read it.
In Depth:
Empire of the East by Fred Saberhagen were a truly innovative series of books when they were written. Best known for his Beserker series,[1] Saberhagen went in a totally different direction when he published The Broken Lands, the first installment of this series, in 1968. The subsequent two novels are collected together in this omnibus novel.[2] Since that time others have written stories set in similar fantasy worlds, and indeed there were probably similar ideas that predate that book, but few did it as well or as comprehensively as Saberhagen. What is more, unlike the sequel series The Books of Swords and The Books of Lost Swords,[3] this series ends quite nicely at the conclusion of Ardneh’s World the last installment in the omnibus.[4]
In brief, with no spoilers (which is really hard when trying to discuss the cool bits of the tale and get you to read it), the tale is the story of Rolf, a peasant farmer in a sword-and-sorcery land conquered by the titular Empire less than a generation before the opening of the tale. He dislikes the Empire, which is cruel by anyone’s standards, but turns to rebellion only when his home is destroyed and his sister is kidnapped at the opening of the tale. Soon, Rolf joins the resistance and fights a guerilla war against the powerful invaders.
To this end, this really is a story about a rebellion and is in many ways falls into the MilFic genre. Only, because it takes place in a society without a military superstructure (albeit fighting one that has a professional military, albeit medieval in form), it does not really fall into my definition of Military Science Fiction, which, after all, is about life in the Military, not just stories about war.[5] Even so, it IS a story about a military struggle against an occupying military overlord, so it does somewhat fall into that genre. Of course, so then does Star Wars which is really not MilFic regardless of how many people have ranks (that seem to be completely ignored throughout the tale).
Working with the rebels, Rolf finds that they are aided by Ardneh, a strange powerful force that no one has actually seen. It sends visions, lend aid and seems godlike in its powers, but is mysterious in its nature with even its gender undisclosed. Yet Ardneh fights the vastly powerful demons that are controlled (or not so controlled) by the forces of the Empire.
Indeed, one of the elements I can speak about that won’t destroy the joy of reading this book are the details that fill the background of this book, and make the world seem so realistic. A perfect example can be found in the demons he describes. Unlike most fantasy novels of the period (or now for that matter), the demons that haunt his world are beings that match those of myth and religion in a way that most demons in most fantasy stories do not.
Normally, demons in modern fantasy are presented in a manner that make them basically big, powerful, magic using monsters – more akin to Tolkien’s Balrogs or, even the Titans of Greek Myth than to the demons of the Bible, or raksasha of Hindu tales. In contrast Saberhagen presents demons in a more traditional, and frightening form: non-corporeal beings of magic, that take form to influence the world, but can change and drop that form as need be; each being difficult, if not impossible to defeat, if one does not know their individual secret. What is more, when he describes the passing of a demon, particularly in its less corporeal form, it is enough to drive men out of their wits. As such, Saberhagen’s demons come across as far more horrifying than the big physical brutes of most High Fantasy. This is true of his other magical beasts as well, and indeed, all of the logic which he puts into the world he created.
Beyond his world building, the story itself is a classic “boy to hero” tale that follows in the well trodden path of most fantasy stories of the period.[6] It makes a rip-roaring adventure tale, but one that by itself would hardly stand out from the crowd. What DOES makes this book worth seeking out are the reveals of the world itself. I highly recommend this as a book for anyone who likes Sword-and-sorcery tales…. But really, don’t read too much about it or else it will be spoiled.
Notes about the Audio Edition:
Raymond Todd did a very good job of narrating the Blackstone Audio version of this book, but there were a few odd editing bits that detract from the production. These could have been either due to the digitizing of the CDs that I heard the story on, but I suspect it was to the recording.
[1] Which I will get around to reviewing once I can find a readable copy of the first book to re-read. My own copy’s spine broke years ago and is missing about half the pages…. Ah… youth.
[2] Which is really the same length as almost any epic fantasy or epic sci fi story even when all collected together. Saberhagen is a master of writing short novels with solid backgrounds and high adventure throughout.
[3] OK, to be fair, The Books of Swords ends at the conclusion of the third of the series, but as that I read it knowing there was a The Books of Lost Swords afterwards, I felt the need to go and, and THAT series ran for eight installments. Don’t get me started with the Beserker series. 14 volumes?
[4] OK… again, I understand that in 2006 Ardneh’s Sword was written, but I haven’t read it and it wasn’t in the collected Audiobook I listened to. At the end of The Empire of the East omnibus I read and am reviewing, the story came to a very neat end.
[5] Uh, oh… another Problems with Military Science Fiction article, huh?
[6] And indeed most myths, legends and literature. Joseph Campbell would be proud.
Grade: Δ — (Delta) A solid read, but only buy it if you like the genre
In brief:
Odalisque is a solid, enjoyable addition to Neal Stephenson‘s Baroque Cycle, but as that it is the third entry in the series (and also marketed as both its own volume (at least in audio format) and part a collected volume called Quicksilver, which is also the title of the first installment in the book/series), it really does require the reader to already be invested in the tale. Not to say that one could not read this without having read the rest of the book, but one’s enjoyment of it will be more limited. What is more, I feel that this series is getting a bit long in the tooth by this stage. Even so, I did enjoy reading it despite the fact that I don’t feel the need to go out at once and pick up the next volume.
Europe, 1648… which was the closest map I could find to 1685…
Setting:
Alternate history, 17th Century England and France, with some side trips to the Lowlands. For the most part, however, the story takes place in the court of the Sun King (Louis XIV) and the English court[1] at the transition between the reigns of Charles II and James II.
In Depth:
Odalisque is a francophonic term derived from the Turkish word Odalik. In English (and French) it originally referred to a Chambermaid or Attendant, but also holds the connotation of a mistress, concubine or courtesan. This is only appropriate as that in Turkish the term referred specifically to the lowest strata of a harem – not a concubine, but an individual who had the possibility of being ‘elevated’ to such a status.
All of which goes to show Stephenson’s continued mastery of linguistic games, for in this volume both of the principal characters play the roles of courtiers, with Eliza, who was saved from a being a Harem concubine in the last volume, now serving in part as an attendant, courtesan of sorts, and indeed a spy in this book. Daniel Waterhouse, the other protagonist in this volume, is almost her opposite – for though he has no sexual exploits in the book, he serves in the Stewarts intellectual harem, as it were: the Royal Society. All of which goes to show the convolutions by which Stephenson’s mind works, and as such demonstrates both the strengths and weaknesses of this work.
In Odalisque, the third installment of Quicksilver, and as such either part three of that book, or book three of the Baroque series as a whole,[2] we finally see the varying protagonists storylines come together (my reviews of installment 1: Quicksilver, and Installment 2: King of the Vagabonds). Daniel Waterhouse, the son of a noted anti-monarchist Puritan, is now Secretary of the Royal Society and as such serves as an advisor to the soon to be late Charles II, a man who actually killed Daniel’s father. Eliza, once a harem slave, is now a spy in the service of Gottfried Leibniz (amongst others) and also serves as an economic advisor to varying European Nobles (including William of Orange, for whom she is also a spy).
While Daniel (who is plotting to overthrow the Stewarts) becomes a confidant of the Duke of York (soon to be James II), Eliza is sent to the Court of Louis the XIV where she becomes first a governess, then a lady in attendance and economic advisor and eventually a paramour (i.e. a courtesan of sorts). Both Daniel and Eliza eventually make the acquaintance of Bob Shaftoe, the more reputable brother of Jack Shaftoe (sic. King of the Vagabonds),[3] who saved Eliza from slavery in the second installment of this series. With this, the varying plotlines finally merge and the overarching plot line for the Baroque Cycle is set in motion.
Yet, while I enjoyed the varying intrigues and the historic and linguistic games that Stephenson plays throughout the book, I did find that it was beginning to suffer a bit from the “GET ON WITH IT” syndrome. Unlike some books that suffer from this (e.g. The Song of Ice and Fire), I enjoyed the read (or rather listen) throughout this book, but at the conclusion felt it had dragged a bit. In part this was due to the very infodumpy nature of the book, which I also greatly enjoyed, and in part due the cliff-hanger ending of Quicksilver: the Baroque Cycle #1 was not resolved at the end of this installment.
To that end, while I did thoroughly enjoy listening to this book, I cannot say that I feel all that inspired to continue on with the next installment. I probably will eventually, but while I like the style (even the enormous info dumps that take up the majority of this book) and the heavy emphasis on history throughout, I did not leave this volume as inspired to carry on the tale as I had with the previous installments.
Thus I feel I can safely say that this book is likely to prove enjoyable to those who like Alternate Histories, but will not be engaging to those who are not so inclined. I will also note, however, that unlike many Alternate Histories, this book is very well researched and despite the fact it pulls every major event of the period together, it does not seem as contrived as many such tales. So, a good read, but really only for those who like the genre and are already invested in the series as a whole.
Notes about the Audio Edition:
Brilliance Audio produced another fine work here, brilliantly combining the talents of Simon Prebble (always a good start), Katherine Kellgren, and Kevin Pariseau, while also providing a forward by Neal Stephenson. It is read in alternating chapter style, with the different narrators reading the parts associated with different characters. This works particularly well for many of the Eliza chapters, as that they take the form of letters and as such are first person point-of-view. Katherine Kellgren does a good job of this, though at times I wondered if the high-born accent and tones she used throughout the tale were wholly appropriate for her character. It is not the use of proper Oxbridge English, per se, but rather the very plumby way in which she read throughout. Of course, Eliza is supposed to be highly educated and combed from youth to be elegant, so perhaps it was appropriate all the same.
Regardless, it was a delightful listen and I would suggest this is a very good way for individuals to read the book.
Reviews of the rest of the Quicksilver Collection (first part of the Baroque Cycle):
My reviews of Parts I and II of the Baroque Cycle are shortlinked below.
Grade: Δ — (Delta) A solid read, but only buy it if you like the genre.
In brief:
Catching Fire bySuzanne Collins is the exciting sequel to her blockbuster novel, The Hunger Games. While it is a solid, enjoyable read that builds upon the first book in the series, it suffers from ‘Middle-Book-In-A-Trilogy’ syndrome, and as such will only really appeal to those who have already read and enjoyed the first book. Having said that, it does point toward a potentially superb final installment in the Hunger Games trilogy.
Ok, the book notes Panem is across North America, but this image seems to be missing Mexico… which most Americans seem to forget is indeed part of North America. Ah well, it least it shows a bit of Canada, even if it is just a nuclear wasteland…
Setting:
Panem (e.g. Bread): A post-apocalyptic dystopian future North America that has been divided into thirteen districts (one of which has apparently been destroyed) dominated by a totalitarian centralized government run from a city located somewhere high in the Rockies. Food is extremely scarce, though this may well be only a tool used by the government to control the populace. Each district has a monolithic economy (coal production, food production, etc.) again presumably enforced in order to control the populace. Yearly gladiatorial games are held using two teenage ‘tributes’ from each district who fight in a wilderness arena to the death.
In Depth:
NOTE – Read The Hunger Games before reading this review – I provide no spoilers for Catching Fire and avoid them as I can for the first book, but there’s only so much I can do when reviewing a sequel that won’t spoil the first book in a series!
Catching Fire picks up a few months after the conclusion of The Hunger Games, with Katniss Everdeen trying to piece her life together after her traumatic experiences in the arena. In some senses her new life is greatly improved. For the first time she has a wonderful house and more than enough food for herself and her family. Yet, she is suffering from post-traumatic stress (though it’s never called this), her relationships with both Peeta and Gale are strained and confused, and she is struggling to find her place in society.
All of this fades to insignificance, however, when the tyrannical dictator of Panem, President Snow, pays Katniss a personal visit to her new home. There he informs her that if she doesn’t present herself as a dithering love sodden little girl in short order she, her family, her love interests and her District will suffer the consequences. It seems that her choices at the end of the last book[1] have led her to become the poster girl for a potential uprising, and if she doesn’t play ball, the authoritarian government will crush her and all those around her even if they play no part in a rebellion. Let the games begin…
Catching Fire really is the middle book of a series and as such, has neither a beginning nor an end. Indeed, the conclusion of this book is a serial cliffhanger and so one does not really feel any sense of completion at the last page. Yet in some senses, that is not the purpose of this book: its purpose is to build upon the first book, both in background and in stakes, and it does that very well.
In Catching Fire, Collins builds the complexity of the politics and cultures behind her world. As Katniss progresses through the book, it becomes clear that there are wheels within wheels working in the background, even when she is unaware of their presence. Her first conversation with President Snow hints that even he may have things to worry about that go beyond the dark conspiracies of his post-American empire. That is only the start. The web of conspiracies that Katniss finds herself caught in the middle of is built very nicely around her as the plot thickens. What is more, her own character arc grows as do her complex relationships with Peeta and Gale,[2] not to mention her mentor Haymitch. All of which sets us up for a potentially fantastic final installment in the series.
Having said that, there are some elements of this book somewhat disappointed me, either because they seemed in conflict with the characters presented in the first book, or because they strained my suspension of disbelief.
The first element of this book that disappointed me was the overall similarity of some parts of the book to the first volume. Indeed, the second half of the book, while expected, was not all that engaging simply because it retread ground that we had already visited in the first book after opening up so many potentials beyond it. Oh, mind you, there are new dimensions to the second half it that kept me turning the pages, but in one sense, a good part of this book is slightly too similar to its predecessor for my tastes. Having said that, it does seem to be leading up to a very different third volume that I am quite anxious to read.
The second thing that irked me about Catching Fire was the apparent change in Katniss. In The Hunger Games we met a strong, intelligent young woman who saw plots and conspiracies among her colleagues at every turn. In this book, well, she seems so oblivious to the more obvious conspiracies taking place around her that I times I wondered if she were just a bit on the dim side.
Now, admittedly, I write and review espionage thrillers for a living, so I might be a tad better at picking out the subterfuge than a sixteen or so year old girl might be. Then again, this is a girl who survived by dealing in the black market in a totalitarian state. While I could believe that background could make her blind to someone having an obvious crush on her as in the first novel, I just can’t believe she’d be so unaware of the varying subterfuge occurring around her. The people I’ve met who have dealings with the criminal side of life tend to be hyperaware of plots and subterfuge, nearly to the point of paranoia
Then there is the world itself. While this book primarily does a wonderful job of building upon Collins’ dystopian future, it also raised a couple of questions in my mind that broke my suspension of disbelief. The first is tied to population.
Katniss is a resident of District 12, whose primary contribution to the economy is coal. Why the clearly high tech Capitol district needs coal is not discussed, but clearly it is part of the economy.[3] Also clearly, the Capitol restricts the economy of each district to a single product, thus forcing an economic dependence upon the center. While difficult to enforce, such an approach would allow for a relatively strong central control of a society and really work quite well. So far, so good.
Only, you see, in this book, it becomes pretty clear that the town that Katniss lives in, a town where almost everyone knows each other, is the only settlement in District 12. Now, I have no problem with a single large population center being enforced by the government, but how does one mine enough coal to add to an economy in anyway if the population is as small as the one described in this book. Between say, nine and fifteen thousand people? That is a tiny population for an area the size of the entire US Northeast, and considering the descriptions of how Katniss’ interactions and variety of individuals she knows, it is clear that is the population.[4] I mean, we’re talking both New England and the Mid-Atlantic states here. The coal production would be so small as to be insignificant, and the population so small and centralized that it would give no strategic or policing value to the region. So, why have a city there at all? Why not relocate and/or kill off the whole lot of them after their original failed revolution seventy-six years prior?
This then leads to my second strained world concept: are there no other countries in the world? I mean, really. This place is so primed for a revolution, I can’t imagine a foreign state wouldn’t be feeding it. Yet, as far as we know, the only place outside Panem that ever had a population is District 13, now a total wasteland… or is it?
And here we see Collins’ saving grace, for she plants seeds of doubt about what she has already told us about the world. Indeed, the very things that stretched my disbelief[5] are the very things that could play out so brilliantly in book three. After all, what we know about the world is seen through Katniss’ eyes, and she really is just a teenage girl in a society where the general population is kept in the dark. So to that end, the book was very good. It raised the stakes not only in the action of the tale, but also in the telling of that tale. Will Collins pull it off? Will her potential world holes prove to be filled with depth and excitement, or will it fail? I really hope so.
Notes about the Audio Edition:
Scholastic Audio produced an extremely good, highly enjoyable audio book. It has a great flow with no irritating production errors or elements. Well done.
Carolyn McCormick does a very good job of narrating this book, but as noted for The Hunger Games, her voice is a tad mature for a first person present tense narrative of a teenage girl. Carolyn McCormick is obviously fully grown self-confident woman. Even so, McCormick is extremely talented, and does a wonderful job.
_____
[1] Yes, yes, yes… I am avoiding spoilers here. It’s hard man, I had to let out the fact she and Peeta both lived just to even vaguely review this book… but I won’t spoil how that was managed for anyone who hasn’t read the first yet. Even so, read the first book before reading this review.
[2] Indeed, some reviewers have critiqued the romantic dithering that occurs in the book, failing to recognize the personal importance of this to Katniss’ character, and that, hey, that is one of the key archetypes (what some people call tropes, but the ancient Greek scholar in me hates the misuse of that term) of the YA Sci-Fi subgenre, and one reason why this gets a Delta not a Gamma.
[3] I am going to say its for plastics, just because that floats my boat.
[4] OK. I’d stretch to 20K, but no more. Really, even in a city the size of Eugene Oregon or BinghamtonNY you would get a smaller range of the population known to a single citizen.
[5] Well, except for Katniss not suspecting more is going on behind the scenes.
Star Trek, Star Wars and Star Lost all had early influence on my imagination,[1] but past the initial love of the spectacular, the two most influential works for my speculative fiction writing were Tolkien‘s Middle Earth series and Frank Herbert’s Dune series.[2] These works in particular, both given to me by my sister,[3] formed a corner stone in my imagination. They taught me that imagined worlds had to have depth and a canon upon which the story was built. Really good Sci Fi and Fantasy had to be internally logical and consistent, but not all of those details need be put into the text of the novel.
Oooh look, a gratuitous use of one of the best opening sequences ever made.
To that end, there are lots and lots of little background details in Strings on a Shadow Puppet that are hinted at, or passed over, but never gone into. Most of them never really will be. Let the readers imagine it for themselves eh? Even so, there is one topic I get asked about more than any thing else: the Billanobians.
Who are they? What are they all about? And what’s with that freakin’ dance? Well, since I have about seventy five pages written on it, I thought I’d write a brief little summary on them, just for some fun for my readers. Mind you boiling it down to a blog post takes away some of the complexity, so keep that in mind if things you read in the book don’t seem to quite marry up. After all, what culture is completely consistent to itself?
The Billanobian Hegemony – An excerpt from the Encyclopedia Sophynensis
The Billanobian Hegemony is an independent state closely allied with the Sophyan Empire and is the second largest interstellar nation in ‘rediscovered space’ by volume (the Atrucan Cooperative is the second largest by population). First founded after a cataclysmic misjump by a Colony ship during the early days of the second phase of the Great Human Diaspora, Billanobian society is a highly caste oriented society that is governed primarily by tradition and ritual.
There are between 1200 and 3000 castes within the society, depending on ones’ exact definition of caste, each with given hereditary roles that members may fulfill. Each caste holds a certain degree of independence within its own social boundaries, with laws varying based upon caste membership, and with numerous dialects used within and between each caste, depending on whom one is engaging in conversation.[4] Each caste has given roles and professions that are open to them, with those at the higher social end having a more restrictive selection of occupational roles, all of which address levels of higher management, while those at the lower end have a wider range of occupations they may undertake, but with little authority or decision making capacity provided in each. Many of the caste roles overlap in part with roles fulfilled by other castes, and inter-caste relationships are strictly governed by tradition and ritual. The origins of this system are bound to the circumstances following the misjump of the original colony ship (q.v.).
As implied by its name, the Billanobia is ruled by an oligarchic council selected from members of a hereditary caste based elite. Membership in this council is restricted to representatives from each of the ruling castes, as well as plebiscite representation from the lower castes. Executive power is shared between a Triumvirate, each member of which having two votes, and a Plebian Advisor, who has three votes. Thus, if all three Ruling Caste executives agree, their decision holds sway, but if one sides with the Plebian Advisor, the two of them hold sway. In practice it is rare for any member of the Triumvirate to side with the Plebian Advisor.
In its original form, there was no Triumvirate or Advisor, but rather the council was overseen by a supreme executive chosen from an Imperial Elector caste by other members of that caste. This individual would vote in the full council in cases of a tie, and would generally oversee the Legal system, but not the military. This form of Imperial hierarchy was eliminated after the Terran Confederation one the War of Reconstitution, and established the Billanobian Protectorate. During that period the Ruling Council was disbanded and all members of the Elector Castes were forcibly relocated throughout the new Terran Federation. Instead, all power placed in the hands of the Earth appointed Governor.
During the War of Extinction, the Ruling Council was reintroduced in an advisory role and returned to permanent place during the Second Empire, with the Mandellan President Protector replacing the role of Emperor. When contact was lost during the subsequent Strife of the Made, executive power reverted to the Ruling Council, and since no decedents of the Imperial Elector families were left in Billanobian Space, the present Triumvirate/Plebian Advisor system was introduced. Tradition and ritual remain strong in Billanobia, and there is a general desire to return to an Imperial system. This can only be accomplished, however, if a member of the Billanobian Elector castes is made Grand Master of the Stars (Emperor).
Origins of Billanobian Culture
As previously noted, Billanobian culture has its origins in the Great Human Diaspora. It grew out of the descendents of a colony ship that was launched in a joint private-governmental initiative between a variety of disparate nations from the Terran continent of Asia. Some have, in fact, suggested that the true the origins to the Billanobian caste system can be found here at the start of the project, for roles in this new colony were strictly divided between Administrative, Security, Scientific Research, and Production.[5] Added to this was, of course, the Operational Crew of the ship, whose role was never intended to become part of the eventual Colony, but which was integrated into the social structure after the accident. These work oriented divisions, combined with the large number of cultural and ethnic identities within the colonial makeup, have led many modern academics to suggest that some form of caste system was always likely to occur.
Regardless, when the colony ship had a catastrophic collapse of the Essar-Rosenthal field, a misjump occurred that left the ship hundreds of parsecs rather than the 0.14 parsecs that was the technological height of the period.[6] The result was that the ship ended up less than one light year from a star system.[7]
Here is the intro to Starlost, which had some influence on ideas for cultural drift and generation ships.
Though the jump drive was irreparable in deep space, the surviving crew and passengers converted the ship into a generation vessel and began a sixty-seven year transit to the nearest star.[8] Though no habitable planets were present, there were enough raw materials and fuel to repair the ship and make transit to another, more hospitable planet. This repair stage took twenty-seven years in total, and was followed by a second crossing of eighty-eight years in duration. The need for extreme rationing and strict discipline during this period of transit solidified the cultural hierarchical systems already in place. It is generally agreed that the Billanobian cultural emphasis on science and discovery is tied in part to the need to discover new ways of repairing the ship, attempts to discover habitable locations and the need to help the population to survive both the physical and mental hardships of the transit.
There is also evidence suggesting that the Great Dance had its origin in the long transit. According to these theories, the predecessor to the Great Dance was initiated as a form of cross-cultural exchange designed to lessen cultural tensions and promote trans-professional cooperation. It is clear from surviving ship records that large social ‘get-togethers’ were held periodically throughout the transit. These began with each culture performing traditional dances and ceremonies, followed by less formal dancing and social interactions. Additionally, it seems the Billanobian emphasis on the arts had its origins in the transit, for records show that both the governmental authorities and the ship’s command crew ensured that resources were made available to create and perform art throughout this time. It is believed this was done to maintain a healthy moral.
The depth of Tolkien’s World building may be a bit too much for some, but I love the way he only ever uses internal references.
The second star system to be encountered, Billanobia, was found to have two planets in the Goldilocks zone capable of sustaining life. One already had indigenous, non-intelligent life, while the other required more substantial terraforming. The ship landed its population on the first, and set up atmosphere plants on the second. For over 100 years life continued under much hardship, with food scarcities and harsh conditions.
It is clear that early in the Colonization Period the Great Dance was formalized. Held as large Potlatch gatherings, the annual Dance emphasized the unity of Billanobian culture despite the disparate origins. It is clear that each cultural ethnic group had begun to alter their own traditional dances, and it is known that the first holistic dance was held at this time – with each individual dancer coming together and touching of dancer with every other dancer as a sign of unity combined with individuality.
Dune also has a huge background, but what I love the best about it was that Herbert never showed more than he had to… until his son decided to do the prequel thing…
Whether the Dance helped to create the caste system, or if the caste system began to be represented in the Dance is a matter of much debate. Most Billanobian Historians believe it was dialectic, but either way, by the point the second planet in the system Hope, was ready for the first inhabitants, the hereditary caste system was already in place, and the progenitor of the system of Electors had developed.
Even before the second planet in the system, Hope, was colonized, the Billanobians had begun building new starships and exploring the surrounding space. This was done both out of the hope of re-establishing contact with Terran space, and from the need to discover if any alien threats lay nearby. Instead of threats, however, the Billanobians found that nearby sentient aliens were considerably less advanced on a technological level, with few even having entered into an equivalent of a Neolithic age, and none having entered an early industrial level of technology.
As a result, when contact was made, the Billanobians ‘took the aliens under their wing’ and created protector states which regulated flow of technology in a manner to help ensure the new races maintained their own cultural identities.
Wing as I do about George R. R. Martin from time to time, his internal world logic is superb.
The continued emphasis on scientific discovery, the desire to once more contact Earth, and the openness with which Billanobians accepted alien concepts and ideas are all thought to have added to Billanobian technology. Indeed, it is thought these are all reasons why they were able to develop a 0.28 parsec capable Essar-Rosenthal field far in advance of their Terran counterparts.
Recontact
Eventually, Billanobian explorers did encounter the far edge of Terran space. An initial period of jubilation occurred with a large number of delegations sent back and forth between the two human states. By this point, Billanobian territory was well over three times that of the Terran Confederation, and a great deal of cultural drift had occurred between the two states.
Quickly, the now highly democratic Terran Confederation came to have concerns about the extremely hereditary and hierarchical nature of the Billanobian Empire, while the tradition bound Billanobians were somewhat taken aback by the ‘chaotic’ and individualistic nature of the various more ‘Terran’ cultures they came across. They were also somewhat disgusted by the attempts of Terran based cultures to culturally assimilate the sentient aliens they had encountered. To that end, it is now sometimes seen as ironic that the Billanobians who were so open to alien cultures were intolerant of different human cultures, while the Terran Confederation was open to any number of human cultural differences (except hereditary hierarchies), but forced alien civilizations to adapt to human cultural standards.
The Wars of Reconstitution
Within twenty years a state of war existed between the two human states. Initially the Billanobians won almost every engagement, and those planets conquered had Billanobian culture enforced upon them. Almost half of Terran space was taken before the Terrans adapted, at which point a three generation long conflict began. Eventually, the Terrans won. Some say this was due to the rigid caste system and strict adherence to tradition of the Billanobians, others note that the cultural diversity and lack of centralized economic structure of the Terrans was the cause. Regardless, the Terrans eventually overran Billanobian space, forced the Imperial Electors to disperse and resettle on the other side of the Corridor, and placed a Military Governor in charge of the core Billanobian regions.[9]
This strict external rule was relaxed during the War of Extinction,[10] when military forces could no longer be spared to occupy a human population, particularly once all humans realized that they faced total annihilation of the Graast were not overcome. It was only through a combined concerted effort by all humans (and indeed the numerous subjugated alien sophants) that the Graast were able to be defeated. Even this required the creation of the ‘Made,’ the genetically enhanced populations that many believe include, but are not limited to, the Mandellans.
After the War, Lu-Yi Mbuna Ryppavitch Melnosse Mandella was declared President of the Terran Federation, permanently re-established the Billanobian Ruling Council who immediately declared him Regent Grand-Protector of the Stars.[11] Soon, the Federation was reconstituted as the Confederated Human Empire, and more popularly called the Second Empire. Though arts, the economy and science flourished during this period, it lasted only one generation before the Mandellans and others began infighting and the Strife of the Made began.
The wars and conflicts that so defined the Strife left Billanobia greatly untouched, though the economic collapse did have its effects. Billanobia, like many other cultures, withdrew from external conflict, focused on itself and a return to its cultural traditions and while it did not expand in technology, territory or economy, it did survive the long dark that followed. When the growing Sophyan Confederation Republic reestablished contact, they found a society much like that of the Original Billanobian Empire still intact.
The SCR had its roots both in Terran and Billanobian cultures, and as such, the two societies quickly found common ground. Both economic and military cooperation grew and cultural exchanges soon occurred. Many hierarchs from one nation soon established hierarch status in the other, for Sophyans this was done by establishing decent from Billanobian hierarch castes, and for Billanobians this was done through meritocratic accomplishments.
When the Hon. Drusilla Rheathena Aureleus of the House of Aureleus, Matriarch-Magestrate of Sophyos, and eventual President of the SCR, married the war hero Alexandro Pleiades, a sophyan citizen who was a direct descendent of one of the Billanobian Elector castes, a growing movement toward formal re-unification was initiated in both states. This was aided when Lord Pleiades took part in the performance of one of the minor tributary dances of the Great Dance that was performed at their wedding, and brought his new wife into the mix in what was deemed by all to be a traditionally acceptable manner.
and here we have one of the intro to Star Trek, which still forms one of the most important elements of my Speculative Fiction world view.
When their son, the Right Hon. Lord Octavius Pleiades was made Emperor, the movement for unification grew all the more, and was further strengthened by his participation in the Great Dance itself, performed on Billanobia.
[1] They were, after all, some of the earliest speculative fiction stories I came across, particularly Star Trek and Star Lost.
[2] Oh, yes there were dozens of other tales put in there, but as far as reading speculative fiction, these books were some of the first one’s I read. In part this was because my elementary school library had almost no science fiction at all (actually, it also had no Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew or almost anything else a kid would want to read.
[3] Well, Fellowship of the Ring and Dune. I had picked up The Hobbit on my own when I was in fifth or sixth grade, and all the sequel books to each series on my own as well.
[4] To that end, there is variation enough with the Billanobian caste language that some linguists argue that Billanobian is not a single language but a variety of languages tied together by a series of petite pois and pidgin languages. Others argue the linking dialects form a solid enough bridge that the variations should indeed be considered dialects.
[5] With Production including such disparate categories as Agriculture, Manufacturing, Native Resource Development and some levels of administration.
[6] Indeed, this was fortunate since most such misjumps result in large scale explosion or dispersal on a quantum level.
[7] This again was quite lucky, as that the misjump occurred on the second jump in the ships’ transit and as such, it still had the bulk of its fuel. Those few other ships that have survived such collapses of the Essar-Rosenthal field been found from similar failures are either far too far from any star system to make a journey or if in anyway close to a star, without enough fuel to make the transit.
[9] The ‘Terrans’ also underwent significant change after this period, reconstituting themselves as the Terran Federation, with a more centralized government.
[10] The war with the Graast, the first and to date only Alien race that not only had equal technological development, but superior technology. Indeed, many areas of Graast technology still confound us. Though apparently extremely caring to their own kind, the Graast were inherently incapable of empathizing with species other than there own, and saw all intelligent species as a threat that must be destroyed.
[11] Only direct descendents of the Elector castes could actually be declared Grand Protector (Emperor).
Grade: Γ — (Gamma) A good or even fantastic book within the genre, possibly worth reading regardless of which genres you like, but has a setting or style that is likely to be unappealing to individuals who are not fans of a given genre. This is the highest grade that many very good books that are part of a series can receive, since series require an investment in reading that normally only appeals to fans of that genre. 
Setting:
In one way or another, there is not a single male character in the book who does not in some way denigrate women, be it in the form of violent rape, condescending over protection, benign neglect, or simple irresponsible obliviousness; men just do not come off very well in this book. That’s ok, because neither do many of the women. Many, though by no means all, also play a part in mistreatment of the female gender either through their own acts or through their ability to ignore or even cover up their mistreatment. As such, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo paints a fairly damning portrait of Swedish society – and if we are honest with ourselves, the rest of Western Society as well.
The framework on which the book is built is a cold-case locked room mystery, and as such is perfectly adequate. It does, however, rely quite heavily on ‘burying the clues in too much information.’[2] Now, that by itself is totally acceptable, but I could see the smoke and mirrors that serve to hide who the real antagonist of the tale is. What is more, I saw the final plot twist coming from the moment we discovered what the central mystery of the story was. In its favor, however, is the fact that it didn’t hide any information at all — and that is a bit of a relief in modern mystery writing.
Notes about the Audio Edition:
To that end, it seemed at first quite interesting to me that Vance decided to read her using a classic southern English working/underclass accent. Not the sort of depressed monosyllabic type, mind you, but rather the more agitated, smart and streetwise cadence. Oh it is a 100% accurate to the type of goth-cum-punk you meet in London on any given day, but certainly doesn’t match the character as described.
