A Desolation Called Peace (Martine)

[cahn]

I am still here! A little swamped until (at least) Easter with a couple of commitments (including the super totally optional self-imposed one of getting the kiddos to make a music video for church -- I did it last Easter and Christmas and, well, we're still not going to church, so).

But in the meantime my hold on A Desolation Called Peace came in from the library, and I read it, and I have a lot of feelings about it that boil down to... eh, it was fine. Which -- if you remember my breathless (spoilery) this-was-an-amazing-book reaction to A Memory Called Empire -- is, while not a negative review, not what I had hoped for either.

I think the big problem that I had with it was how all the characters sounded fairly similar in voice, which bothered me because the whole point of the first book, and a major theme of the second, is the culture of the Teixcalaanli vs. the culture of the little nation-entities it was trying to engulf, like Lsel Station, and how they were different. So I would have expected, when we were in the head of a Teixcalaan, for it to sound different than being in the head of a Stationer (which we were for the entire first book). The culture is different, the assumptions are different, the way they react to things ought to be different! And there was a little of that, but it seemed almost perfunctory, added-on -- oh, right, we need a mention of poetry, we haven't had one in a while, here you go. Mostly being in the head of a Teixcalaan seemed very much like being in the head of a Stationer, or being in the head of an Earth human Euroamerican, which just bugged me.

(I'm trying to remember places this kind of thing is done well -- I felt this way about Ann Leckie's Ancillary books; the Imperial Radch really is a different kind of culture and mindset, plus which ship-culture is its own thing. And the other one that's coming to mind is John M. Ford's The Final Reflection. His Klingons do have a truly culturally different and often terrifying-to-a-Terran mindset, while still being entities one can sympathize and even empathize with. Please give me other examples, because now I'm in the mood for this.)

And it did kind of make me like Empire not as well in retrospect. All hamsterwoman's (spoilery) critiques of Empire and how the worldbuilding felt shallow, I was willing to handwave at the time because I was able to headcanon deeper worldbuilding for her examples, but now... I'm kind of coming over to that side, because it really felt to me like Martine hadn't done the worldbuilding work to be immersed in a different worldview, and I can't handwave POV.

The plot management was kind of weird -- the big reveal of this book was basically given away in the preface (and in interludes after that so it's not like I could forget it), so when our characters figured it out, I was kind of like "that's nice, but we readers already knew that?" It's not Martine's fault, I guess, that we live in a post-Ender's Game world, but the reveal was also not all that earthshattering, even if it hadn't been telegraphed from literally page one -- I think she was trying to make it less of an earthshattering plot point and more of doing something interesting in weaving the themes of communication and the Other and what it means to see the Other as human, but it just didn't work for me because I was so frustrated by everyone sounding the same. (And, say what you will of Card -- and there are many things you can say of Ender's Game -- he did it better there.)

Also, the part with Twenty Cicada, which I didn't see coming, fell flat too because instead of being immersed in the moment, I was like "...would that actually work?? It seems like there should be, like, fifteen different reasons why that wouldn't work!!" I think I needed just a little more handwaving there as to why Twenty Cicada might reasonably have thought it would work...

Also. The italics. Are even worse, if that is possible, in this book than in its predecessor. I was complaining to D about this, and demonstrated by opening to a completely random, non-pre-selected page and pointing at all the italics on that page. (There were a lot!) The fact that I could confidently do this is, GAH, where was the editor in this? I mean, I definitely empathize. in everything I've ever written, including these DW posts, I actually have to go in afterwards and remove at least half of the italics I've put in (you have no idea how much I'm restraining myself from italics right now), but... at least I actually do remove (some of) them. Also, this played into everyone sounding the same. The eleven-year-old kid uses tons of italics, yeah, that even makes sense! The risk-seeking Stationer-Ambassador, maybe. The middle-aged career military admiral? Mmmmmph. What I'm saying here is that Martine had an easy chance to make the style reflect the character, and she didn't take it -- and that is a microcosm of all the other problems I had with the book.

This makes it sound like I didn't like the book, and I liked it a lot! It was certainly an entertaining space romp and I had a great time reading it. As in Empire, all the characters are interesting and even likeable. And (especially after we got through the setup portion of the book) her writing has got tons of narrative drive, which I loved, and I ate the book up rather quickly. And I continued to love that algorithms are a Thing in her books! And it's interesting to read this in conjunction with the Gap series (still reading!) -- Donaldson thought he was being all inclusive -- and he was, for the 90's! -- by having (always "heartbreakingly beautiful") awesome kick-butt female captains (who, interestingly, always, always are answering to some male authority figure). But it's so cool to have female characters who are in various different positions of authority and also aren't always, well, one body type :P

But, yeah, I wish Desolation had been more than it was.

Comments

[cenozoicsynapsid]

You mentioned on Ao3 that I should drop in around April to talk about science fiction, so I am taking the opportunity. Hi!

But I agree with everything you say here. The first third of the book, with Mahit on the Station and Three Seagrass in the City, seemed like the bit that a competent editor would tell you to cut off and burn... just moving pieces around on the board to get them where you think they ought to be for the part you actually want to write. (Then again, when I feel that a speculative author has really done the medias res thing properly and forced you to pick up the worldbuilding bit by bit instead of telling you everything, just as I'm mentally congratulating them, I tend to look back at the cover and find that I've missed the part where it says "Book Two".)

As you say, there isn't much of a sense of Stationer culture. The problem, I think, is that Mahit simply doesn't like or think deeply about Stationer culture, which makes her a bad viewpoint on it. She likes the Station as a political concept; she does not get a warm thank-heavens-I'm-home feeling from graphic novels and seaweed beer. This is something the story really should have explored and made her face up to... Does she just not like it, in the way that a person with few friends and an unhappy upbringing often doesn't? Or another way in which she feels drawn to the Empire despite herself?

The other problem, I think, was that the conflict didn't feel intractable enough. The conflicts within the Empire worked great; I liked how everyone was still trying to figure out who was being sidelined or sacrificed or prepared for high command after the reshuffling from Memory. It felt appropriately hard, with decent people forced onto opposite sides. The interstellar conflict felt cheap by comparison. Diplomacy is cool as a plot device when it feels really difficult. This had a bit of an air of "if we could all just sit down and talk to one another..."

All in all, not a terrible book. But a real let-down after the first one.

[cahn]

Hiiii! I am grinning so hard right now :D (Though you're a little early, as Hugo nominees aren't yet out... but yay let's talk about SF!)

The first third of the book, with Mahit on the Station and Three Seagrass in the City, seemed like the bit that a competent editor would tell you to cut off and burn

Heh, I find this totally hilarious because my awesome beta is always asking me, "Do you really need the first third of this story?" And... the answer is often no :P

The problem, I think, is that Mahit simply doesn't like or think deeply about Stationer culture, which makes her a bad viewpoint on it.

Huh. I need to chew on this a bit. I am not totally sure I agree with this, in the sense that I think you can not like or think deeply about a culture but at the same time if it's the culture you grew up in, I think it still surrounds you and makes you something of what you are... Like in the first book, I did feel like Mahit had more centering in being a Stationer, what with her assumptions about imagos and socioemotional training and living on a station that aren't shared by the Empire. But I felt very little of that in this book; maybe Martine was tired of writing about that?

This is something the story really should have explored and made her face up to... Does she just not like it, in the way that a person with few friends and an unhappy upbringing often doesn't? Or another way in which she feels drawn to the Empire despite herself?

Ohhhh, yes this. This would have been really interesting. (I feel like there are several books in here that would have been quite interesting/intense -- another review I read talked about Twenty Cicada and his take on the Empire and how that would have been really interesting to look at more.)

Diplomacy is cool as a plot device when it feels really difficult. This had a bit of an air of "if we could all just sit down and talk to one another..."

Yessss I agree with all of this. I really enjoyed the conflicts within the Empire as well (although Eight Antidote seemed a little too idealistic?) but the alien diplomacy was too easy, as you say. Though some of that easiness was sort of baked into the premise, I think -- what can you do with aliens where you don't understand what they say and they don't understand you? The story has to become about figuring out how to talk to them, in a way.

[cenozoicsynapsid]

I agree with Hamsterwoman that Becky Chambers has leveled up consistently over time. I handed "Long Way to a Small Angry Planet" to a friend of mine with the comment that they'd love the characters (they did) but that it suffered from what my Soviet literature professor called "plotlessness"--- the disease of idealizing society and your characters to the extent that stories aren't allowed to contain real conflict. The second two were much, much better than that.

But I felt very little of that in this book; maybe Martine was tired of writing about that?
Yeah. I felt like Mahit spent all this time on Lsel and basically didn't talk to anyone except politicians, didn't go anywhere except meetings, didn't go to see anything. She doesn't seem to have old teachers or ex-girlfriends or anyone to visit. I don't know if it's a deliberate choice that her life on the station is so empty, or just an oversight.

what can you do with aliens where you don't understand what they say and they don't understand you? The story has to become about figuring out how to talk to them, in a way
Well, talking is hard, it's true... but after you talk, the disagreements and conflicting goals remain. Martine obviously knows this, as a historian. The Empire doesn't subjugate people because of misunderstandings! It has a whole class of official whose job it is to understand barbarians. As in real life, this makes them more efficient subjugators, not less. With the aliens, these very complex, obviously very militaristic cultures are slamming into one another partly because they both seem to have social institutions that want and benefit from war. That's the part that seems much harder to solve.

[cahn]

Ah, okay -- I did get that very idealized sense from Long Way and it made it so boring I gave up, but I will check out the other Chambers when I get a chance. (hamsterwoman says there's a fourth one coming out soon -- maybe that will get Hugo-nominated, then I'll certainly read it :) )

Well, talking is hard, it's true... but after you talk, the disagreements and conflicting goals remain.

Oh, sure, and misunderstandings too. I can hardly get two people in my own family of origin to agree sometimes (to be fair, there's a cultural divide there too), much less two alien species. I more meant that on the Doylist side, not the Watsonian side -- that the gulf of communication is so wide that it becomes hard to make the story about anything else, even if it would be rather more realistic that once they talked that there would still be a ton of problems (which there would be, as you say!) ...On the other hand, if she'd cut the first third then there might have been some room to deal with it :P

With the aliens, these very complex, obviously very militaristic cultures are slamming into one another partly because they both seem to have social institutions that want and benefit from war. That's the part that seems much harder to solve.

Oh, yeah, that's a very good point, and plays into what you said earlier about the resolution being too pat -- do we really think that enough of the Teixcalaanli are going to be okay with this peaceful-ish outcome? (Which did bother me.) Though I hadn't myself thought of it so much from the side of the dual militaristic cultures, I was more thinking about the vast potential for talking past each other and culture clash.

[hamsterwoman]

t it suffered from what my Soviet literature professor called "plotlessness"--- the disease of idealizing society and your characters to the extent that stories aren't allowed to contain real conflict

OMG, yes! I never thought to connect it to the Soviet lit/socialist realism approach, but this was exactly the thing that most bothered me about Small Angry Planet -- that the "good guys" were idealized to the point that they could not have character growth or interpersonal conflict, and so the book was both plotless (something I can handle, though I do consider it a flaw) and also arc-less (which was the deal-breaker for me). Well except for outsourcing all the flaws to the rotten West Corbin.

It was such a relief that by book 2 Chambers had apparently realized that it was OK for characters to be flawed and learn things and grow as the book went along.