Split Infinity by Thalia Kalkipsakis

Split Infinity by Thalia Kalkipsakis is the second book in the Lifespan of Starlight trilogy, following on from book 1, Lifespan of Starlight, which I read and reviewed recently. I really enjoyed this sequel, and it made me realise that the only reason I didn't give Lifespan of Starlight 5 stars (I gave it 4.5) is because reading bad goodreads reviews before reading the book had me anticipating it taking a turn for the crappy, which it didn't. Split Infinity continued on in the same trope-avoiding way as the first book. Oh, also, the blurb and this review contain MAJOR SPOILERS for the first book.

A split-second decision, a single time-skip. The world that you know, gone in a blink.

Now a sharp and adept time-skipper, Scout jumps years ahead to find the world transformed. Technology has accelerated and the people she knows have grown up, or disappeared. Most pressing, the government that she was trying to escape has used the time to prepare for the return of the time skippers. Caught between finding the mother she left behind and time-skipping ahead with Mason, a series of events lead Scout deeper into the tunnel than ever before.

The only way out is by the strength of her love and the power of her mind. The illusion of time has one more surprise, one with the power to change everything.

As you probably gathered from my preamble, I enjoyed this book a lot. One of my favourite things about it is that Scout, the main character, is pretty smart and doesn't make stupid decisions for no better reason than to further the plot (a YA pet peeve of mine). In fact, whenever I thought "she should do blah" to solve whatever problem she was facing, she generally did or did something even more clever. That's not to say that the book was predictable, just that obvious smart courses of action weren't conveniently ignored by the protagonist.

I mentioned in my review of the first book that I didn't think the government quite counted as dystopian because almost everyone (who wasn't in Scout's position) was basically doing OK. In this book, which is mostly set a bit further in the future than we see in the first book, the repressiveness of the government took a turn for the worse and definitely feels more dystopian. Whether or not Scout (and friends) will be directly addressing that beyond just trying to keep themselves safe is unclear. Although it's more dystopian than the first book, it's not following the obvious beats of a YA dystopia (yet — I suppose the third book could change that).

On the topic of not following obvious beats, there were a few time travel beats that I thought this second book might end on and to be honest, until the very end I kind of wanted it to end that way. But once the end game was playing out, it became clear that the book wasn't going to end quite the way I expected. There is another cliff hanger, though (that bit I did expect).

In my review of the first book I didn't talk much about time travel because I didn't want to give that aspect of the story away. This second volume is very much more of a time travel narrative, so I think it should be mentioned. One of the things that I think makes this series so successfully compelling is that it took two unrelated, solid ideas — everyone being chipped and time travel — and combined them to make a story greater than the sum of its parts. It helps that the portrayal of being chipped is done in a relatively fresh way (like when Scout has trouble crossing the road without a chip), and that the method of time travel is novel and both constrained (jumping forward, not moving from where you were and arriving naked) and liberal (anyone can learn to do it).

Finally, Scout has a very close relationship with her mother, which doesn't change when the whole time travel thing starts. Scout's mother isn't conveniently out of the way or kidnapped, does worry about her, and is a motivator for Scout to do various things. Her mother's strong presence is balanced by the fact that Scout has a lot of freedom, especially for a 14 or 15 year old, but I appreciate her not being orphaned or neglected from the outset.

To reiterate, I enjoyed Split Infinity a lot and would whole-heartedly recommend it and the first book to fans of character-driven YA and science fiction. Although there is a romantic element in the books, it was actually stronger in the first book than the second, and isn't very prominent overall (and wow did I appreciate the fact that Scout didn't do anything to stupid for cute boys). I am eagerly awaiting the last book in the series, alas I think I'll be waiting about a year to read it.

5 / 5 stars

First published: May 2016, Hardie Grant Egmont
Series: Lifespan of Starlight book 2 of 3
Format read: Paper!
Source: Purchased (from Big W...)
Challenges: Australian Women Writers Challenge, Aussie Science Fiction Reading Challenge

Star Trek Voyager: The Farther Shore by Christie Golden

Star Trek Voyager: The Farther Shore by Christie Golden is the direct sequel to Homecoming, and together the two books form a duology. They are more like one longer book that was split in two, however, and neither of them stand alone. This review contains spoilers for Homecoming, and probably some for The Farther Shore, too, but I will put those under a spoiler shield thingy unless they are very minor.

When the long-lost Starship Voyager returned home to Earth, did Kathryn Janeway and her crew unwittingly bring with them a deadly Borg infection from the heart of the Delta Quadrant? Many in Starfleet think so, and Seven of Nine finds herself the prime suspect as the carrier of the plague. Now, following the events of Homecoming, Admiral Janeway must reunite her crew in a desperate attempt to discover the source of the contagion -- and save the people of Earth from total assimilation into a voracious Borg collective.

This book made me pretty angry. There were two main elements which led to this. First, the prologue and a bunch of out-take type scenes in Homecoming featured extensive violent and sexual child abuse over many years of the victim's life. I had no idea where those scenes were going in the first book, so I largely filed them away in the "will probably be relevant later" draw. In The Farther Shore their purpose was revealed: the child abuse existed to motive the villain being a villain. There are so many things wrong with this, I don't even know where to start. Let's start with the obvious that most victims of domestic violence don't go on to pursue world domination. Also, while domestic violence is endemic in our society, it really seems like the sort of thing the Star Trek future should have largely dealt with and mostly eliminated. Certainly, I find it implausible that it continued for her entire childhood without the future having given her mother the tools to get herself and the child out of the situation. But more importantly, the whole being repeatedly raped as a child making someone a villain and turning into a literal monster is a very damaging trope. I was very annoyed to find it a pivotal plot element.

The other thing that really annoyed me was a bit of a spoiler, so it is under a spoiler shield.

There was scene where revolting holograms kidnap a bunch of people, choosing mainly based on convenience regarding where they worked. Then, to emphasise how much holograms have been treated as slaves (a point, I might add, that is explored much better in the actual series), the people are beaten and threatened with rape. We see things from the point of view of a male security guard and he surmises that, since the holograms have apparently gone mad and started whipping him, a woman that got carried off by angry holograms might get raped. To be fair, we only see things from this one guard's point of view and by the end it seems likely that she probably wasn't raped (or possibly wasn't real) but it was such an extreme and misplaced way of punishing a few randomly chosen humans for the apparent crime of conforming to society's view on holograms that it pissed me off. Rape as punishment is never OK. Even less so in this context. So that pissed me off.

Overall, there were minimal redeeming plot qualities but the rest of the book wasn't terrible. The hologram revolt sort of fizzled out and the Borg threat was, predictably, stopped by our main characters. The characterisation was all right, but the characters weren't exactly put in optimal situations. Even the well-meaning but mislead character who kept standing in their way had an unsatisfactory about-turn. Libby, a new character who I liked in the first book, still played a pivotal role but did not get enough page time in the resolution. B'Ellana's story line was completely separate from the main elements of the plot. Although it wasn't bad, it really could have been removed without ruining anything. The only relevant part was that she was off elsewhere while Tom was with the other main characters. I assume it's purpose was to set up some future book, but, well, meh.

I have been a bit harsh, though. The first part of The Farther Shore wasn't too bad. Aside from the specific things I singled out above, only the ending was a bit disappointing. On the other hand, from about half-way through my desire to get through it so I could write an angry review, which I have now done, started to outweigh my desire to find out what happened next. The latter, however, is why I didn't just put it down. (Also because it's not that long.)

I don't particularly recommend this book to anyone. Which is unfortunate, because the previous book wasn't bad, but definitely doesn't stand alone. Part of me wants to know more of what happens to these characters, but I think it will be a while before I pick up another Voyager book, alas. (But my TBR rejoices at not having the competition.)

2.5 / 5 stars

First published: 2003, Pocket Books
Series: Star Trek Voyager licensed fiction, book 2 of 2 in the Homecoming duology
Format read: ePub
Source: Purchased from Google Play

Fall by Sean Williams

Fall by Sean Williams (also called Hollowgirl in the US) is the final book in the YA science fiction Twinmaker trilogy. It follows on from Jump and Crash. Because of certain crucial events at the end of book two, which set up the premise for book three, this review, including the blurb, will contain some spoilers of the earlier books.

Clair’s world has been destroyed – again. The only remaining hope of survival is for her and Q to enter the Yard, a simulation as detailed – and as real – as the home they have lost. But in the Yard there are two Clair Hills. The other Clair is headstrong, impulsive, suspicious – just like Clair herself used to be, and their very existence is causing cracks.

As Clair searches for a solution, a surprising new ally emerges from the ashes. Together they fight their way through the digital and political minefield in the hope of saving Jesse, her friends and the whole of humanity.

In the rather dramatic conclusion to Crash, in which Clair and Q/Kari uploaded themselves to the Yard to escape the destruction of all d-mat processed matter on Earth. The story of Fall opens inside the Yard simulation where Clair and Kari run into Clair's friends, who were uploaded two weeks earlier near the start of book one. An earlier version of Clair is also with them. This allows a very interesting contrast between the Clair we had gotten to know and the Clair from before two books' worth of traumatic events. It's easy to side with Clair Two, whose experiences we had just spent a book reading about, but I also enjoyed the way in which Clair Two can almost always see Clair One's point of view. Clair One, however, has fewer reference points for understanding Clair Two, which becomes a source of friction between them.

I enjoyed Fall more than Crash, overall. Among other things, there were fewer piles of bodies and, if I'm remembering correctly, more exploration of philosophical problems. The only real let-down for me was the obviousness of the ending. Exactly how the characters got to the final resolution was the main story, of course, but for me as a reader, the general nature of the ending was never in question. That's not to say it was a bad ending, just an inevitable one. And I think that Williams did a good job of throwing sufficient obstacles at Clair and friends to make the journey an exciting and entertaining one.

The other thing that struck me as I neared the end of Fall was just how much more accessible this series was compared with, for example, Astropolis, Williams's adult SF series (beginning with Saturn Returns, all read pre-blog). Most of that is probably because Twinmaker is YA and not necessarily aimed at people who already know they like hard SF. Possibly making it a good gateway series. I think it's fair to say that if you enjoyed this series, you will probably enjoy other hard science fiction books (assuming the next hard SF you try reading doesn't offend you in some way, which is unfortunately not unlikely).

Ultimately, this series is a detailed exploration of the uses and dangers of teleportation (and fabrication) technology, in what is initially a post-scarcity society. And I'm pretty sure that's more or less what it set out to be. With characters and plot drama added in, of course. I enjoyed it a lot and I would recommend it to all fans of SF and YA and YA SF.

4 / 5 stars

First published: November 2015, Balzer + Bray (US) / Allen & Unwin (Aus)
Series: Twinmaker book 3 of 3
Format read: eARC
Source: Edelweiss courtesy of the US publisher
Challenges: Australian Science Fiction Reading Challenge

Ancillary Mercy by Ann Leckie

Ancillary Mercy by Ann Leckie is the third and final book in the Imperial Radch trilogy. You can read my reviews of the first two books, Ancillary Justice and Ancillary Sword, at those links.

For a moment, things seem to be under control for the soldier known as Breq. Then a search of Atheok Station's slums turns up someone who shouldn't exist - someone who might be an ancillary from a ship that's been hiding beyond the empire's reach for three thousand years. Meanwhile, a messenger from the alien and mysterious Presger empire arrives, as does Breq's enemy, the divided and quite possibly insane Anaander Mianaai - ruler of an empire at war with itself.

Anaander is heavily armed and extremely unhappy with Breq. She could take her ship and crew and flee, but that would leave everyone at Athoek in terrible danger. Breq has a desperate plan. The odds aren't good, but that's never stopped her before.

When everyone was making a fuss about the pronouns in Ancillary Justice (in the main language there is only one gender and it is translated into English as "she") and decrying it as a feminist text, I was wondering what book they had read. The book I read did not have strong feminist themes and was mainly about colonialism. I have to admit I didn't think very much about themes in Ancillary Sword, but this final volume, Ancillary Mercy, deals very interestingly with ideas of sentience and personhood, particularly when it comes to AIs. Perhaps not a surprising development given the main character and first person narrator is/was a ship. But it is interesting that many of the questions raised took so long to come to the fore. Reading this book, I was thinking "yes, this makes perfect sense given what we know" and then being baffled when other characters didn't agree with me/Breq and friends.

Another strength of Ancillary Mercy comes from the very fact that it is the third book in the series. We know the key characters well, we already care about them and there aren't a huge number of new characters to have to remember. Leckie deals well with the character stuff, not letting the story be completely taken over by action and external events (something I have had issues with in other SF books). My favourite parts were small interactions between often minor characters, like the soldiers' protective feelings towards their lieutenants and Breq. As well as characterisation, the universe is very well developed. Leckie makes us care about tea sets! Plural!

Ancillary Mercy was a great conclusion to the series and I had trouble putting it down. I enjoyed it more than Ancillary Sword, which I gave 5 stars to already. They're not wildly different books (Ancillary Justice, which sets everything up and has a lot of flashbacks is the most different in structure to the other two) and I think Ancillary Mercy was my favourite mainly because the comic relief characters were funnier. Which is kind of an odd thing to say since this is hardly a comedy, but it is what distinguished Ancillary Mercy for me. (Although of the three I find Ancillary Justice the most iconic).

I highly recommend this series to all fans of space opera and hard SF. It's really excellent and showcases Leckie's writing talents and worldbuilding skills. This concluding volume was great and although it didn't tie up everything — the series ended up showing us a self-contained slice of a very large conflict — it was still satisfying. A must read! (But start with the first book.)

5 / 5 stars

First published: October 2015, Tor
Series: Imperial Radch book 3 of 3
Format read: ePub
Source: Google Play

Insurgent by Veronica Roth

Insurgent by Veronica Roth is the second in the Divergent trilogy. I have to admit that somewhere between pre-ordering it and it actually being released (in May), I became somewhat jaded about the worldbuilding in Divergent, the first book. That's why I put off reading Insurgent for so long.

The background from Divergent is that humanity collectively decided it was sick of conflict and split itself up into factions based on which characteristic they thought was most to blame for conflict. Those blaming cowardice formed the Dauntless factions, those blaming selfishness joined Abnegation, those blaming war joined Amity, those blaming lies joined Candour, and those blaming ignorance joined Erudite. At sixteen, in this world, kids have to choose their lifelong faction: either the one they were born into or one for which they have a greater aptitude/affinity for. Those who have an aptitude for multiple factions are called Divergent (hence the title of the first book) and are generally feared and persecuted. The origin of the factions baffled me in book one, especially after the excitement of reading the action had worn off.

The main character, Tris, is Divergent. In Insurgent, she and her fellows are left running for their lives thanks to the events at the end of book 1. As far as dystopian YA goes, the conflict which signals the overthrowing of the society isn't instigated by the main characters or their allies, but by the bad guys, breaking formula slightly. Of course Tris and friends do end up playing a key role or there wouldn't be as much story.

Tris's emotional journey in Insurgent involved a lot of turbulence. Her sense of self-preservation isn't especially high and this becomes even more important in Insurgent. I think Roth does a good job showing that Tris has multiple aptitudes but her characterisation of the other characters, particularly the non-divergent ones, felt a bit simplistic. In showing how they had one and only one faction aptitude, there were some instances where they felt oversimplified: from the Erudite who only did "logical" things to the Dauntless who were literally incapable of thinking things through, even when prompted to.

MINOR SPOILERS IN THE NEXT PARAGRAPH

My biggest peeve — which shouldn't come as a surprise to those of you who know me — was the vilification of intellectualism (by the main characters, not by the narrative overall, which is some salvation). Although there were some consequences for the gun-ho destruction of information and facilities ("no, I can't fix that injury because you burnt down the hospital"), and part of Tris's mission involved retrieving a particular piece of information before it was destroyed. However, I didn't really feel that made up for it since the focus was on specific information not being censored, rather than general knowledge being useful. There's enough general societal distrust of intelligence that books which fuel it even a little bit bother me. (As does the evil scientist trope, but for slightly different reasons.)

Anyway, Insurgent was full of action and kept me interested all the way through. I found Tris a bit annoying at times but that was mostly because I didn't empathise with her lack of self-preservation. I have to admit I was disappointed with the big reveal at the end because, not only did I guess what it was early on, but my guessed back-story for it turned out to be more complicated than Roth's. I had hoped it would strengthen the plausibility of the worldbuilding much more than it did. Roth's writing is strong and much as I might not have agreed with them, I did find Tris's emotions and choices plausible. I will definitely be reading the sequel, however I don't think I'll be pre-ordering this time.

4 / 5 stars

Courting Trouble by Jenny Schwartz

Courting Trouble is the second Aussie steampunk novella in Jenny Schwartz's Bustlepunk chronicles. I reviewed the first book, Wanted: One Scoundrel at the start of the year. A copy of this novella was provided for review from the publisher, which was nice because it meant I got to read it a bit sooner. You should be able to buy it from Carina Press from the day this review goes live, October 1.

Although Courting Trouble is definitely a sequel to Wanted: One Scoundrel, I think it will also stand alone fairly well. None of the plot, beyond the fact that the two main characters met in book 1, depends on earlier plot points.

Esme is a suffragette in Perth the Swan River colony, 1895. Book 1 introduced her love interest, the Californian Jed, who is still courting her now. Or trying to work out how to court a suffragette without making her angry. Their interactions amused me, especially Jed's attempts at courting. He's not very good at doing so at the start without reducing Esme to a damsel in distress and I completely shared Esme's anger at some of his antics.

Part of Schwartz's alternate universe is the introduction of Bombaytown in the Swan River colony. Much like Chinatown, but Indian, it plays a central role in Courting Trouble when Gupta, the teenager Jed saved in book 1, comes to Jed and Esme for help. Of course, this leads to the central dastardly plot and direction of action. In the end, the bad guy seemed to me to be as much a victim of colonialism/the British Raj as of his own crazies, something I didn't think was quite addressed as much as it could've been.

All in all, Courting Trouble was a great fun read and I was a bit disappointed when it was over so soon. I certainly wouldn't object to reading a novel-length story set in the same world. From Wanted: One Scoundrel to Courting Trouble, I feel Schwartz's writing has improved, becoming tighter. The steampunk elements which originally drew me to the series are still crucial to the plot, though perhaps less prominent (or less silly?) than in Wanted.

I definitely recommend Courting Trouble to anyone who's read and liked Wanted: One Scoundrel or to anyone interested steampunk, particularly those looking for a different setting. (Also, if anyone knows of any other Australian-flavoured steampunk books, please let me know; I'd love to read them.)

4.5 / 5 stars

Blackout by Mira Grant

Blackout by Mira Grant is the final novel in the Newsflesh trilogy. I have previously reviewed book 1: Feed, and book 2: Deadline.

This review contains spoilers for the ending of Deadline. If you haven’t read the first two books, I suggest reading the review for Feed and then reading the book yourself. The series is definitely worth reading.

Spoilers below.

Deadline by Mira Grant

Deadline is the second book in Mira Grant’s Newsflesh trilogy. You can read my review of the first book, Feed, here. If you haven’t read Feed, I highly recommend not reading this review because it contains spoilers for the end of book 1.

vN by Madeline Ashby

vN is Madeline Ashby’s début novel, recently released by Angry Robot Books. A copy of this book was provided to me by the publisher via Netgalley for review purposes.

vN is set in a near future world where humanoid robots exist and have become complex enough that in some respects they are difficult to distinguish from humans. They are also able to reproduce autonomously, given sufficient food, hence the designator vN — von Neumann machine.

The back story of vN is quite interesting. They weren’t created as some sort of science or engineering experiment, but by a church that expected the rapture. The idea was, when all the good people transcended, the people left on (hell on) Earth would need someone to look after them. Enter vN. For this reason, vN were built with a fail-safe that causes them pain or malfunction if they witness a human being suffering or in pain, particularly in a violent way.

This ideas explored as a result of this are fascinating. vN have some semblance of free will, except for where interaction with humans is involved. They find themselves drawn to wanting to make humans happy, even if the humans treat them badly, the vN just can’t help themselves. Also, fair warning, some people want to have vN around for less than wholesome reasons. Paedophilia, while not central to the story, comes up a couple of times in passing.

The story is told from Amy’s point of view, a vN, and in my opinion Ashby had no trouble conveying Amy’s humanity even while she was dealing with vN aspects of her nature. Amy’s mother, the vN she looks identical to, decided to marry (albeit not legally) a human man. The opening prologue is told from Amy’s dad’s point of view while Amy is still about five years old and the size of a human five-year-old (vN grow according to how much they’re fed until they reach adulthood, then the extra food goes towards iterating a child). Amy’s kindergarten graduation ceremony is interrupted by her psychotic grandmother attacking her mother. In defence of her mother, Amy eats her grandmother and ends up with her as a partition in her memory banks (talking to her and telling her to kill people).

In the course of events, Amy finds herself on the run from the authorities and teams up with another vN, Javier. Amy, who was coddled by her loving parents, finds herself suddenly a grown up (eating her grandmother gave her a growth spurt) and forced to deal with the harsh realities of the world. The story follows her and Javier’s misadventures as they attempt to stay alive and free.

I found vN to be an interesting and fresh take on robots. Although on the surface the fail-safe might sound similar to Asimov’s Laws of Robotics, the way it’s explored and the consequences we’re shown are quite different and significantly grittier than anything Asimov ever wrote. I definitely recommend this read for science fiction fans. I would also recommend it to most fantasy fans as it’s fairly low on technobabble and it’s character-driven as well as idea-driven. And anyway, the robots are advanced enough that they’re practically magic.

4 / 5 stars

Hal Junior: The Missing Case by Simon Haynes

Hal Junior: The Missing Case by Simon Haynes is the second of his Hal Junior books, although they stand alone and reading order isn’t important. The Hal Junior series is itself a spin-off of Haynes Hal Spacejock novels for adults.

Hal Junior is a kid growing up on a space station who is particularly adept at getting himself into trouble and causing havoc. In The Missing Case, he is given the important task of entertaining and looking after a VIP visitor’s son Alex. Except that it turns out Alex isn’t the VIP’s son, but his daughter, much to Hal’s dismay. Alex is also entrusted with looking after her father’s very important (and titular) briefcase. Shenanigans ensue.

Since I started reading the Hal Junior books, I’ve been very curious as to how they fit into the larger Hal Spacejock universe. Initially I thought Hal Junior was going to be about Spacejock’s childhood, but this is obviously not the case once you start reading. There was a hint at the end of The Missing Case which suggests that maybe we’ll find out more soon, hopefully in Hal Junior 3 (which I think isn’t that far off).

The Missing Case is a quick fun read and good for a few laughs. I would also recommend it to kids (I believe the US category is called “middle-grade”, but in Australia I’ve only seen it called “for younger readers”) who enjoy space adventures or reading about general mischief-making.

4 / 5 stars

The Long Earth by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter

The Long Earth is a collaboration between Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. My favourite Pratchett books are hands down some of the Discworld novels. My experience with an armful of Baxter books is that he tends to over write this science and tends to reuse similar characters. So I wasn’t sure what to expect. Mainly I was hoping for Pratchetty characters and an interesting story.

That’s pretty much what I got, but better. The whole novel flowed well so there was never any obvious breaks between writers (as one would hope) and front cover notwithstanding, the overall feel seemed more Pratchetty to me. I read in an interview somewhere that the idea of the Long Earth — a series of parallel worlds which followed different biological and cosmic evolutionary tracks to the world we know — was Pratchett’s idea from way back, but he didn’t feel he could do justice to it by himself. Perhaps this is why it feels like a Pratchetty world, although some of the ideas (of odd things encountered) seemed Baxtery.

The story follows a few characters with varying degrees of depth. There is Joshua, a natural stepper (between worlds) who was there, so to speak, on the day when the children of the world downloaded instructions to build their own stepping devices and suddenly disappeared. He is the most central character and, later on, we follow him and a Tibetan reincarnated as a computer across millions of Earths.

We also see many cameos of other characters, some only once, some reappearing several times. All of them play crucial parts in the unfolding of the Long Earth. I mention this because one of the characters on the blurb isn’t a very prominent character, so I thought it odd that he was included. I suspect it would have been a difficult book to write a blurb for.

Overall, The Long Earth is more philosophical than plot-driven, although there are some save-the-day type moments. That said, there was never a dull moment and a lot of the ideas explored were fascinating and, in my opinion, dwelt upon for just the right amount of time. The end, when it came was a little bit sudden but upon reflection I’ve decided I like it. They leave it open so that there could be more books (I don’t expect any, but the back cover of my copy says it’s the first book in an exciting new collaboration… so I don’t know. I’d read it, but I’m more keen for as many Discworld books as possible) but nothing is left hanging, except for, y’know, the fate of all the worlds exactly what happens next.

I would recommend The Long Earth to anyone who enjoys science fiction or fantasy that is thoughtful, character-driven (especially if you count the Long Earth as a character) and immensely interesting.

4.5 / 5 stars

The Radiant Seas by Catherine Asaro

The Radiant Seas by Catherine Asaro is the second book I’ve read in the Skolian Empire saga (which actually has three empires in it with the two main ones having different names so it gets confusing but that’s the term I’m going to stick with). The other book that I’ve read was Primary Inversion which, chronologically, immediately precedes The Radiant Seas. For this review to make sense, I’m going to have to include a spoiler for the end of Primary Inversion, but I’ll put in a warning when I get to that.

Asaro’s universe contains three interstellar empires:

• The Skolians whose ruling family are powerful telepaths and who can communicate instantaneously through a telepathic web that three of the imperial family hold in place with their minds (and to do so they have to be the most powerful type of telepaths, a condition that involves recessive genes and can’t be genetically engineered.


• The Eubians who are ruled by the irredeemably evil (and genetically specific) class of Aristos. Evil because they literally gain transcendent pleasure from being in proximity to the suffering of telepaths. Their mission in life is generally to acquire as many telepathic slaves as they can, the more powerful the better (and, incidentally, they don’t see anyone else as fully human, especially the telepaths but including ordinary humans).


• And then there’s the Earth and Allied Worlds who try to stay out of the never ending conflicts between the other two empires and don’t entirely believe how horrible the Eubians are with their slavery and torture.

The main characters are mostly Skolian and the antagonists are all Eubian although they’re not all as automatically evil as it might seem (but most are) and do have proper motivations for what they do, always an important trait in bad guys. The story in The Radiant Seas picks up exactly where Primary Inversion left off and spans many (17ish) years.

Before I get to the spoilers, a few words on the science because I can’t review an SF book without commenting on that. Asaro’s science, real and made up, is pretty good and (most importantly ;-p ) didn’t annoy me. It was a good mix between made up stuff (the telepathy) told from a scientific point of view and fairly hard semi-plausible science like the propulsion systems. Asaro actually has a PhD in physical chemistry theoretical atomic and molecular physics so much of the quantum and relativity stuff is plausible. She even published a paper about the theory behind her faster than light travel system. In short, nothing to complain about here.

And to be able to talk about the plot, I have to mention a spoiler for the end of Primary Inversion…

~

SPOILER WARNING FOR PRIMARY INVERSION

***

WARNING OF SPOILERS

***

YOU HAVE BEEN SPOILER-WARNED FOR PRIMARY INVERSION (NOT RADIANT SEAS)

~

At the end of Primary Inversion, Soz, next in line to be the Imperator (Skolian), and Jabriol II, heir to the Imperial throne (Eubian), fall in love when Soz discovers Jabriol isn’t in fact an Aristo but part of a secret genetic experiment to breed telepathy into the imperial line. Rather than feeding on telepaths, he is the most powerful type of telepath himself (as is Soz). Since peace between their empires is inherently impossible while there are still Aristos running around, they ran off to a deserted planet together. The Radiant Seas picks up when they’re busy making copious babies while their families mourn them, then get on with waging war against each other.

Because the story spans so many years, it really felt like the first half was setting up the events of the second half. There were some action scenes in the first half and the story definitely progressed, but there were moments when it felt like it was dragging. In the second half, Soz and Jabriol (and their kids) rejoin civilisation and their respective empires, the story really picks up. Soz trying to rescue Jabriol was much more exciting than them making babies while their families fought.

Aside from the few boring bits (which weren’t enough to ruin anything, in my opinion), I quite enjoyed this novel. I mostly liked Soz because she kicks arse but I did find the whole running away from imperial duties thing a bit selfish. However, it was also nice to see an alternative narrative where duty isn’t held up as the most important thing and the character chooses family. (I still think they should’ve hung around to fix things up more first…)

Overall, I would recommend this book to people who enjoy science fiction with epic world-spanning empires, lots of political intrigue and long range plots. I definitely suggest reading Primary Inversion before The Radiant Seas, however, since a lot of world building and, more importantly, plot set up, takes place in the earlier book.

4 / 5 stars

A Confusion of Princes by Garth Nix

A Confusion of Princes is the first book by Garth Nix that I’ve read, despite his being an Australian author of some note. After reading it, his other books have moved up on my mental TBR list.

The story takes place in a space opera galactic empire, complete with fancy technology, body augmentations and psychic priests holding the empire together. The empire is run by the Emperor and the Imperial Mind, a sort of psychic presence that monitors almost everything and directs the actions of the empire’s priests, assassins and princes. Princes are chosen from a young age based mostly on genetic predisposition to the augmentations that make them super human. They’re taken away from their ordinary human families and raised in temples (which have very little to do with religion) and trained to be arrogant and self-centred pricks.

The thing that prevented the main character from being insufferable was that the story was told retrospectively by his grown-up self (mind you, he’s 18-19 for most of the story), who fully acknowledged what an idiot he was. I think if it was told in a more present manner, he would have been much more insufferable. There were many humorous moments where I laughed out loud at him as he learnt how the real world worked. I was also amused by some of the scenarios Nix set up which seemed to be poking fun at certain SF/space opera tropes.

A Confusion of Princes is also a very action-packed and fast paced novel. Although it covers about two years, it jumped from highlight to highlight quite quickly with several “and nothing exciting happened for a few months” moments. In a way this was good because it kept the plot moving, but I also couldn’t help but want to know more about the world Nix has built. Although this is a stand-alone novel, I wouldn’t mind reading more stories set in the same world. There was a short story appended in the edition I bought (which I think is the standard Aussie Allen & Unwin edition — can I just say how nice it is to see vapourise spelt with both a u and an s?), about the main character’s mysterious right hand man (aka Master of Assassins) but I didn’t feel it added much to the story. I mean, it wasn’t bad, I was just hoping a deeper look into the guy’s psyche.

What I found particularly interesting was the way all the imperial roles were gender neutral. Princes could be male or female, as could assassins and priests. There was a special gender-neutral pronoun for the Emperor heirself and while the main character was male and the world revolved around him, background characters were just as likely to be female as male (and Nix didn’t shy away from the whole fighting a girl thing that trips up some). The only thing that annoyed was the whitewashing/homogenising of the main character on the front cover. He’s meant to be black and spends most of the story with a mohawk.

Overall, a fun read. I would call it YA but more for its brevity than, even, the coming of age aspect of the plot. Oh, and none of the science made me angry, yay! I recommend it to anyone who enjoys YA science fiction or wants a light, non-strenuous, read.

4 / 5 stars

Liar's Game by Kait Gamble

Liar’s Game by Kait Gamble is a new novella out from Carina Press on July 2nd. A copy was provided to be from the publisher via Netgalley. The official blurb summarises quite well, so I thought I’d start by including that.

Rumors of Aurelia Popkiss’s death have been greatly exaggerated. In fact, she and her crew have been drifting through the big black, scavenging to survive since the day she “died.” Yet after years of being on the wrong side of less than favorable odds, they never thought that finding a young girl stowed away on their ship would prove to be among the worst things to happen to them.

From the moment Aurelia finds Kateryn concealed in her cabin, Auri knows she’s hiding something. But even Aurelia can’t imagine the true reason for the stowaway’s sudden appearance in her life.

Kateryn’s past is as convoluted and murky as Aurelia’s own. The girl is out for revenge and nothing is going to stop her from destroying Aurelia and her crew-including Keys, Aurelia’s fellow shipmate and the man she’s secretly in love with-to get it.

Aurelia captains a ship full of ex-criminal men. They are all fiercely loyal to her and a bit over-protective. The further along I read the more it made sense but there was still something a bit dissonant between Aurelia being described as headstrong and then letting the guys restrain her so she doesn’t get hurt/in too much trouble. The opening chapter, in particular, hit a lot of clichés and had me concerned about the rest of the story. Fortunately it improved, particularly once Kateryn, the stowaway, showed up.

Although it’s listed as science fiction romance, I’d be more inclined to call it space adventure romance or something like that. There’s minimal realistic science (see below) but the background setting reminded me a bit of Firefly. But with space pirates instead of space cowboys.

The ending strongly suggested that there will be more novellas/stories in the series, which is a trend I’m liking with the Carina Press stories I’ve read. Hopefully the sequel will flesh out more of the background of the world. I’d like to see where exactly the nobility come into it, future-historically.

On the science-front, Liar’s Game was less science fictiony than I was hoping. The actual science was non-existent, replaced with a few cool gadgets, and setting-wise there were some elements that just didn’t make sense. I never quite got a feel for the layout of the ship (in the sense that there were a few times I was confused when people moved from one room to another a bit too instantly) and there was a bit where the way a shuttle left the main ship was baffling and probably should’ve caused an explosion. Also a strangely uneventful landing on Io — this was at least partly explained, but I would’ve liked to read more and it would have been a perfect opportunity to talk about the technological development of humanity.

The main characters’ ship was secretly floating around the solar system but mostly seemed to be relatively close to colonised moons or planets. If you’re trying to hide from society, why are you that close (a few hours flight) to civilisation? Even though they’re being pirates, surely they’d want to hide on the other side of the sun from the big hubs when they’re not in need of supplies? Also, NASA etc already track many asteroids, some of which would be comparable in size to ships, so I don’t quite buy their ability to hide for so long (I don’t think cloaking devices were mentioned). On the other hand, being set in the solar system does eliminate the problem of space being too big for viable piracy, so that’s something.

I wouldn’t recommend this book to science fiction fans, but lovers of romance or adventure romance will probably enjoy it. Overall it was readable by pushed some of my pet peeve buttons which I expect wouldn’t bother many other readers.

3 / 5 stars

172 Hours on the Moon by Johan Harstad

172 Hours on the Moon by Johan Harstad is a recently released YA book that was originally published in Norwegian in 2008. I enjoyed it quite a bit and I think it would make an excellent movie. Hopefully, someone in Hollywood notices it and makes it happen.

To summarise the book in one sentence: monsters and teenagers on the moon. I would probably call it SF horror, but I didn’t actually find it scary per se. It should have been, but I was more entertained by the question of “who will survive?”. I think it would make a scarier (and quite good) movie than it did book. But then, it’s a translation, so maybe there was more suspense in the original Norwegian? Who knows.

EDIT: I forgot to say one thing about the translation which really jarred me out of the story. The translator translated into US English not only the words but also the units of measurement so that the non-USian teenagers were thinking in miles and feet and yards and wtf no. It really threw me out of the story. Especially since a Norwegian mile, a Mil, is actually defined as 10 kilometres. Even if the American astronauts had told them speeds and distances in miles, there’s no way the scared Norwegian girl having to cross a dark room would think in yards. Not to mention the astronauts are scientists and engineers and as such have to be able to cope with standard units anyway. I’m confident that if the metric system had been left in, no US teenagers’ brains would have fallen out. End rant.

The back story is that in the 70s, during the 5ish year window between Skylab (the US space station that in real life didn’t entirely work out as planned) falling into disuse and it reentering the atmosphere (to crash in Western Australia), it was used as a staging ground for NASA and the US Air Force to build a secret base on the moon. In terms of plausibility, I was happy to ignore the unlikelihood of NASA managing to actually keep this secret, never mind that the USSR would’ve noticed all the extra launches, if nothing else.

Now, in the run up to 2019, NASA has realised that it should go back to the moon before someone else beats them to it and discovers the secret moon base. Fair enough. Also they need funding so instead of just sending ordinary astronauts to do boring astronauty things, someone comes up with the brilliant media stunt of sending three teenagers with the astronauts. Instead of running some sort of reality TV show to choose them, NASA holds a world-wide lottery. World-wide. None of the three teenagers are American, which I found a bit baffling from a plausibility point of view. From a readability point of view, of course, it was brilliant to have a cultural change. Harstad also skipped over some of the checks and tests that the contestants would have had to go through — and later the training was fast forwarded past — which I found a bit annoying, but then that wasn’t the main point of the story, so it’s understandable.

The aspect I really enjoyed was that all the characters had proper back stories and different motivations for going. Mia, the Norwegian girl, was in a band and had no interest in the moon but her parents signed her up anyway. Antoine, the French boy, was mostly concerned with getting away from his ex-girlfriend and Midori, the Japanese girl, didn’t want to spend her life stuck in Japan. Several of the adults and secondary characters also had proper back stories. It was nice to see more complex motivations than are necessarily common in these sorts of stories.

In terms of the science — because I can’t review a SF novel without some mention of its science — it was mostly accurate or close enough. Harstad skimmed past many things (like zero-gee nausea which none of them miraculously suffered from, something statistically quite unlikely when you’re randomly picking people out with a lottery) which worked generally because if he was slightly wrong about something, he was never specific enough to be completely and utterly wrong. There were a few odd bits involving low or zero atmosphere, but nothing specific worth complaining about. What was really strange was that somehow, in the 70s, NASA managed to not only build a base on the moon, but to somehow imbue it with artificial gravity which they also kept secret from the world. Then they just casually announced it on live TV and there was no outcry of bafflement from the world’s scientists. Or from NASA’s own scientists who had also been kept in the dark (the whole moon base thing was classified of course) until the lead up to the launch. What. The. Frack? Of course this is nothing compared with the scientific train-wreck that was Beth Revis’s Across the Universe, but artificial gravity on the surface of the moon is enough of a big deal that not addressing it was jarring and that including it at all was completely unnecessary. In the story it’s included to supposedly mitigate the effects of prolonged stays in low gravity, but really? No. The saving grace was that it wasn’t dwelt on or in anyway important to the plot, so I could easily ignore those few lines.

So. Despite the rather lengthy critical discussions above, I quite enjoyed 172 Hours on the Moon. I read it in two sittings and would recommend it to SF fans, especially those who don’t mind a bit of non-scientific horror in the fiction (talking about the mysterious evil now, not the actual science). The production values of the physical book were also nice. There were illustrative images interspersed throughout the novel including things like maps of the base, NASA photos of the moon, and the promotional lottery poster (see right).

4 / 5 stars

Polymer by Sally Rogers-Davidson

Polymer by Sally Rogers-Davidson is a science fiction story which I would categorise as adventure. Apart from being in first person, it reminded me of pulpy SF adventure stories from way back when. Except with a female protagonist and more female issues than would ever have come up in those books.

The main story takes place within the pages of a long-lost journal written by Polly Meridian (aka Polymer). On the night of her graduation ceremony, her space station home is invaded by aliens. (Aliens, in this book, pretty much means “people not from the same place as me who might be human or could be blue aliens”.) She almost dies in the invasion but is “lucky” enough to be taken prisoner and enslaved instead.

Without spoiling any plot, a lot of things happen to her. Some of them are externally driven (like being taken prisoner) and some are on her own initiative. Either way, the book is full of action (although I thought there was a bit of a slump shortly after the invasion, it definitely picked up later on).

Unlike Spare Parts, the other Sally Rogers-Davidson book I’ve read, I wouldn’t call this one YA. Sometimes the writing felt like it could be and the main character is horribly naïve as isn’t uncommon in YA, but ultimately the book dealt with more grown-us issues. I wouldn’t stop a teenager reading it — it’s not very M rated (there’s sex and a bit of rape but it’s mostly off screen or not described in detail) — but I wouldn’t call it YA. Also, I think the main character is right on the cusp of the YA protagonist age range.

There were some problematic elements in the book. I don’t want to spoil anything, but I felt a bit uncomfortable by Polly’s shifting attitudes towards one of her captors. Given earlier events, it just didn’t sit well with me, even though I could understand it from her point of view.

I would recommend Polymer to anyone who enjoys a SF adventure story. I think Rogers-Davidson’s writing style improved in Spare Parts, but that’s understandable since Polymer was published four years earlier and I think it was her debut novel. If you enjoyed Spare Parts, give Polymer a go. It’s a very different setting, but there are some similarities in outlook (relatively cheery).

If you’re wondering about the different covers, the top is the recently released ebook cover (which is the version I have), the middle is the original paperback cover, now out of print, and the bottom is the re-released paperback. I think the bottom is my favourite.

You can currently purchase Polymer from Lulu in paper or ebook formats. Hopefully the ebook will be coming to Smashwords and other retailers soon.

3.5 / 5 stars

When We Have Wings by Claire Corbette

When We Have Wings by Claire Corbett is set in a vaguely near future Sydney where the rich can fly thanks to having wings implanted on their backs.

Before I get into talking about the story, I want to point out that, from a physics point of view, Corbett has described a very plausible situation. The wings people get are quite large (the impression I got was comparable to the height of the person) and they also get treatments to change the physiology to make their bones lighter (carbon fibre was involved) and their muscles stronger. And, of course, to grow the new muscles needed to control their wings. (For the record, the fictional wings were larger and more interestingly-coloured than on the cover, although it’s a nice cover despite that.)

I have little idea of how plausible the biology was, but assuming those biological modifications were possible, the physics seemed to check out (y’know, without actually writing out equations or anything). The descriptions of flight and weather patterns were also quite rigorous and I commend Corbett on her dedicated research. Those details made the book all the more realistic and helped with the suspension of disbelief so we could focus on the social issues surrounding flight.

The story follows two characters: Zeke, a PI investigating a nanny kidnapping the child of a flyer couple, and Peri, the nanny on the run. The mystery of why and where the nanny took the baby is not the real mystery, however — especially since about half the story is told from her point of view. The real mysteries become apparent when Zeke digs a little deeper and when events get away from everyone.

The setting isn’t a dystopia. Similar to what I said about Spare Parts, just because there is a widening gap between haves and have nots, doesn’t make it a dystopia. Especially when, other than the size of the gap, there aren’t many social or political differences to our world. It’s a commentary on where our world could go, given enough scientific progress. And it doesn’t make the assumption that the medical developments are inherently a bad thing, either. Partly, this is explored through Zeke having to make a choice as to whether to give his toddler son wings from an early age (it’s easier when they’re children) or whether to deprive him of flight and bar entrance into the elite flyer society.

In many ways, flight is a metaphor in When We Have Wings. However, it’s not just a metaphor, as evidenced by the rigorous world building and the real exploration of social issues surrounding flight. What makes us human? How much of a disadvantage is not being able to afford wings? Is being an ordinary human (in their world), without modification, edging towards being a disability since they can’t fly? There was a lot of background political discussion about equality and quotas (of non-modified humans) and equal access. In a world where everyone is expected to choose the most favourable characteristics for their unborn children and concerns like baldness are trivial to “fix” where do you draw the line? If you want an unadulterated genome, where does that leave you (other than as a member of the conservative anti-modification cult)?

Progress marches on.

When We Have Wings was an excellent read. I highly recommend it to fans of science fiction, fantasy and anything in between. I suspect it’s being at least partially marketed as main stream, so hey, all readers of fiction, go out and buy it!

4.5 / 5 stars

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A Heinlein

I listened to the audiobook (from Audible) version The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A Heinlein. It wasn’t an especially pleasant experience and not just because it was so drawn out now that my commutes are only 25 minutes long.

The narrator had a really terrible accent for the main character (the book is in first person). At first I thought the character was supposed to be Italian, but that didn’t make sense in context and in the end I decided he was probably supposed to be Russian. I was able to tune out the confusing accent eventually (and he wasn’t too bad at the other voices, particularly the American and British men). ETA: Also, assuming he was supposed to be Russian, the grammatical mistakes were the wrong sort. The common mistake Russians make when speaking English is leaving out articles or the verb to be because these don’t exist in Russian. Manuel, however, was written as making different errors, which was just another grating thing I tuned out eventually.

What I had more difficulty tuning out were the casual (unintended) sexism, the politics and part of the underlying premise.

Let’s start with the premise. The moon is a penal colony; this part I don’t object to. While it would take up a lot of resources to send prisoners there, it’s not terribly different to sending them to Australia. That part’s OK. And once there, of course mining ice (for their own consumption) makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is using the moon to grow crops: mostly, but not exclusively, wheat. It’s a problem addressed in the actual story when they have issues with nutrients etc (although where the soil they’re growing in doesn’t come up, I don’t think). But the question of why start growing crops on the moon for any reason other than self-sufficiency is not addressed. Really, there’s no way it’s cheaper for Earth to do it this way.

The other part of the setup — the lunar penal colony being rule with an iron fist by a dictator-warden — I have no problem with. In those circumstances, a revolution seems inevitable sooner or later (and if they’d waited ‘til later, they would’ve run out of water to grow their crops with, among other possible issues).

As for the sexism I mentioned, it’s mostly nothing special, just a lot of “she was pretty good at [whatever] for/despite being a girl/woman”. Which got old. The societal structure of the penal colony was such that there were about twice as many men as women and this made the men more protective than usual of the women. There was no rape because if a man tried (or succeeded) to rape a woman, the other men would gang up on him, beat him, and throw him out an airlock. In a way, women had more power than real 1960s women but this was due to their scarcity rather than any inherent sense of equality of aptitudes. Unfortunate, since I think Heinlein was trying to progressive with this writing. For example, Manuel, the main character, is part of a line marriage. This is a system where more wives and husbands are added into a large family. I don’t remember exactly how big it was, but there were maybe 10 wives and “co-husbands”. (I like how the husbands had to have the co- prefix. You know, just in case they were accused of homesexuality or something, an orientation which was conspicuously absent.) The wives had more say over accepting new members into the family (they voted and in some families husbands didn’t get a say) but were still expected to do things like cook and all the housework, while the husbands had “manly work”, like farming or mining or whatnot.

The beginning of the story centres about the central control computer which has gained sentience, as Manuel discovers during his tech support duties. There are flaws in how the computer works, from a technical point of view, but given the book was published in 1966, I’m happy to ignore that. (And the fact that the physics is pretty good helps. And although some of the physiological effects of acceleration were a bit iffy, that’s another area which hadn’t been fully explored in 1966.)

After an activist peacefully-complain-about-the-warden meeting is interrupted by the warden’s men trying to kill everyone. Manuel, who was there only because the sentient computer was interested in the goings on (being a curious sentient, also interested in dissecting humour), is caught up in the crossfire and, with Wyoh, an activist from the other lunar city, escapes and goes underground. They make contact with the Professor, one of the only teachers in Luna City, and the three of them, with the computer, Mike, begin to mastermind a revolution. It ends up being managed on the line between terrorist and freedom-fighter, in my opinion. In terms of how it’s written, it’s very cerebral, with a lot of revolutionary theory and logistics thrown around.

Politically, I was a bit confused about what they wanted, other than to overthrow the warden. I mean, there was no question about overthrowing the warden, but what they wanted for a replacement government didn’t become apparent until after the revolution (which happens at roughly the half-way point). Afterwards — minor spoilers ahead, but really, not important ones — it transpired that the professor, one of the masterminds, was vehemently opposed to taxation which… yeah. I mean, sure, he was a “rational anarchist” but the whole thing, post-revolution, (not just the tax aspect) was a bit too anti-establishment for my taste. And they were a bit too blasé about bombing the Earth which didn’t seem to me to be the best way to gain recognition as a sovereign nation, but maybe that’s just my modern sensibilities talking.

The ending was kind of poignant, I’ll give it that.

Overall I wouldn’t recommend The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. I found it of interest only as a historic text and it has made me hesitant to read more Heinlein in the future. Perhaps I’ll have more luck with my next foray into new (to me) classic SF than I did with this one.

2 / 5 stars

Thumped by Megan McCafferty

Thumped by Megan McCafferty is the sequel and conclusion to Bumped. To give you an idea of the world, I include an adapted version of my LibraryThing review of Bumped from when I read it last year:

Bumped is set in a near future where a fertility virus means that people become infertile at around the age of 18. To keep the human race from being wiped out, American culture has become obsessed with teenage pregnancy (and trying to get the highest birth rates in the world).

I’ve tagged the book as dystopian YA SF, which it is, but I think it would appeal to non-SF readers too. The SF-y elements are significantly less prominent than, for example in The Hunger Games or Divergent.

Mostly, this is a book about teenagers coping with a strange world in which they are the only ones that can ensure the existence of the next generation. In different ways, the youth are encouraged/brain-washed into reproducing as much as they can, ether by being professional surrogate (or “pro surrogettes”) or by making amateur babies with their boy/girlfriends.

The story follows twin sisters, Melody raised in the mainstream (American) society, and Harmony raised by conservative, Amish-like Christians. Through their two perspectives (alternating first person) we learn about the world bit by bit. I liked the short chapters which kept the story moving rapidly and gave a feeling of simultaneity for the two plot lines. I also thought the language and slang, particularly of the mainstream sister, was spot on and added authenticity to world building.

Overall, I highly recommend it, although some aspects of the sex-culture could irk some readers.

Thumped picked up around eight and a half months after Bumped left off and is a very quick read; I got through it in an evening.

The overtly religious aspects of Harmony got under my skin less in Thumped than in book 1, largely because she spent a lot of this book questioning things. However, I did feel that the book was too short. When I was half or two thirds of the way through, I was wondering how it could possible wrap up all the issues it raised in the pages remaining (in my Random House UK copy, the story ends on page 290). The answer turned out to be: rapidly. It was resolved quickly but I didn’t feel like much was left hanging. I wouldn’t mind seeing a sequel, perhaps with different characters and less fast-paced because I’m curious as to how the world turns out. Unlike more conventional YA dystopias (like The Hunger Games, Divergent, etc) this duology does not follow the formula of

1. identify massive problems with society


2. enact/take part in a revolution.

If anything it ends at 1 and merely hints at a non-violent version of 2 to come. Which is a nice change.

Another thing I’d like to mention is that the issues with the world are kind of obvious from the start. It’s even obvious why brainwashing advertising kids into making babies seems like a good idea. But I got sucked into the world enough that, while I agreed with Melody’s reservations, it wasn’t until she articulated the situation at the end that all the ramifications really sunk in.

So Thumped was a nice conclusion to Bumped. I didn’t enjoy it quite as much, but I think that’s mainly because the novelty of the world-concept had worn off. (For the record, I still enjoyed the slang but I felt there was either less of it or I had become immune. Except for “for seriously” because d’uh it should be “for serious”.) On reflection, I think the two books could have been released in one volume (it needn’t even have been a very long volume). Despite the time gap, there were a lot of loose ends in Bumped and they very much feel like one story split into two volumes.

Overall, I would definitely recommend this series to people who like YA, high-concept dystopias, or interesting slang. And if you’ve read and not hated Bumped, you really can’t not read the second half of the story in Thumped.

4 / 5 stars

Black Glass by Meg Mundell

Black Glass, debut novel by Meg Mundell, caught my eye because it was shortlisted for Aurealis Awards in both the SF and YA categories. (And being written by a woman, hence counting towards my SF Aussie Women Writers Challenge also helped.)

The narrative style and presentation of the story and characters is exactly the sort I usually dislike. The scenes, as well as presenting the two most central characters in a reasonably conventional narrative, alternate scenic mood scenes (sometimes with a temporary character as a focus), often (always?) in present tense, and dialogue without any framing.

I’ve stopped reading books written like this in the past because they annoyed me. But you know what? Mundell pulls it off really well. I was captivated from the start, never bored and the ending packed an unexpected punch.

The setting is Melbourne, a depressing near future. A dystopia but a plausible one, scarily close to our world now. Just a little bit more technology, regulation and surveillance than today. Unlike certain other YA dystopias I could mention like The Hunger Games, Uglies or Divergent, there is no bizarre disconnect between our world and the world of Black Glass. (Infinitely so when you compare with Divergent — good book, but I found the back story mind-bogglingly implausible. You’re unsatisfied with the world so you sort yourselves into factions resembling Hogwarts houses? REALLY?) Also, it’s set in Australia, so it gets bonus setting points for not being doomed-US.

The most science fictiony element, and my second favourite part of the world building (my favourite being that it was set in Melbourne and I enjoy visiting home vicariously), was the side story of Milk the mood engineer. He uses scents and subtle changes in lighting to evoke moods and emotions in whoever is in range of his devices. His mission is to artistically make the spaces he works with more harmonious and the people in them happier. I thought it was a fascinating concept and explored with surprising depth in the relatively short novel.

The central-most characters, Tally 13 and Grace 16, are sisters who, up until the first chapter or so, have spent their lives following their deadbeat father around small Australian towns, often leaving town at a moment’s notice. The story starts when an accident kills their father and separates the sisters. They had been planning to run away to the city (Melbourne) “soon” but now they are forced to make their way there separately.

We follow the girls, the city and a few miscellaneous characters, sometimes obliquely, as they make ends meet, get by and wonder where their lives are going. By the time I was reading the climax, I was sceptical of a satisfactory ending but by golly, I was not disappointed. On the other hand, without spoilers, I can understand other people not feeling the same way.

I’m not sure I’d call Black Glass YA. The other characters are mostly adults and a lot of the concepts explored are things you don’t necessarily want kids to have to worry about. Of course, the reality is that many kids today do worry about similar things to Tally and Grace. I wouldn’t stop a twelve year old from reading it, but I would also encourage them to wait a few years. I could see it as the sort of book that might be studied in year 11 or 12, though.

In any case, it’s an excellent piece of writing. I highly recommend Back Glass to not only science fiction fans but everyone. Even if you think you don’t like science fiction, science fictional element in Black Glass is so minor you’ll barely notice.

4.5 / 5 stars