Solaris, 2023, 339 p.   Reviewed for ParSec 12.

This is a collection of fiction of mostly fantasy stories, perhaps in keeping with Nordic traditions but there is a sprinkling of Science Fiction. They are split almost equally between translations and stories which first appeared in English, though they do contain a surprising number of Scottish terms. None of them would appear out of place in any speculative fiction anthology though, in most, character or place names display their provenance.

The book’s contents are ordered by the authors’ countries of origin.

Sweden:

She by John Ajvide Lindqvist, translated by Marlaine Delargy from the Swedish, Hon, has an epigram from Nathan Wahlqvist to the effect that “a haunting is dependent on a series of highly unlikely coincidences,” and so inherently rare. This tale of the haunting of a house newly built on the site of an older one relies on the facts that the owners, a couple trying to embark on parenthood, sourced its materials on the cheap and the grandfather of one of them had done wrong in the past.

Lost and Found by Maria Haskins, translated from the original, Vindspår, by the author tells of the mental disintegration of the survivor of a crashed escape pod from a ship surveying exoplanets for possible terraforming. Or was there really something out there?

Sing by Karen Tidbeck is set on a planet whose human inhabitants are strangely affected by the rising and setting of the system’s moons. Most can sing when a particular moon is up but our narrator can’t. She is also physically impaired and hence not fully part of the society. A visitor finds the planet’s parasitic ecosystem strange and is shocked by the method through which the singing is acquired.

Denmark:

The False Fisherman by Kaspar Colling Nielsen, translated from the Danish Den falske fisher by Olivia Lasky, concerns a man who did not take up fishing till he was over forty but nevertheless gets himself all the correct gear. He never catches anything (apart from one whopper.) This story could quite easily be read as having no speculative content at all – except for perhaps one sentence.

Heather Country by Jakob Drud is set in a world after what is always referred to as the impact, in a Jutland run by the NeuroClan a pair of whose investigators (both mortgaged to the Clan’s system of debt of body parts) stumble across a threat to the production of fuel from the local genetically modified heather.

The Traveller Girl by Lene Kaaberbøl, translated from the original, Rakkerstøsen, by the author, again has only a tangential relationship to the speculative. A man hoping to inherit land by marrying the landowner’s daughter is startled by the humanity he finds in the gypsy girl he encounters one day. Her group comes there so that their horses’ foals may be born on land that confers on them strength, sturdiness and speed.

The Faroe Islands:

The Abyss by Rakel Helmsdahl, translated from the Faroese, Dýpið, by Marita Thomsen, as a story, seems to be a metaphor for Limbo as our narrator climbs up and down and traverses across a never-ending series of iron bars too rigid and close-set to pass through, before deciding to fall into the abyss of the title and further adventures.

Iceland:

The Dreamgiver by Johann Thorsson. A child’s nightmares are relieved by a dreamcatcher hung up by her bedroom door. One night when our narrator, the child’s mother, carries out the daily task of emptying it she is startled by the Dreamgiver, who is not best pleased that his dreams are being discarded.

Hamraborg Babylon by Alexander Dan Vilhjálmson. Translated from the Icelandic Sódóma Hamraborg by Quentin Bates.

This Hamraborg is a tower dominating its city, Kópavogur. A woman penetrates its nightmarish depths in search of her brother. The story doesn’t quite deliver on the promise of its first two pages.

Norway:

As You Wish by Tor Åge Bringsværd. Translated from the Norwegian Som du Vil by Olivia Lasky. Brageson works in Mine-Blue 4 on the planet Nova Thule where the company provides all its workers with an idunn. Created from local crystalline sources these are not-quite-android simulacra of women with a highly developed sense of imitation. Their signature question is, “How do you want me?” –  a question which haunts Brageson as he struggles to accept his idunn’s presence in his life.

The Cormorant by Tone Almhell has more than a few similarities to Scottish Folk Tales. Not surprising really, given the same harsh northern climate, the salience of fishing as a means of earning a living and the overbearing presence of the sea. The story sets its stall out early when the narrator says she is a cormorant and if she spreads out her wings death will follow. She has been brought up without her father, who had mysterious origins anyway, and lives with her secretive mother on an island across a stretch of sea from the town of Grip. The townspeople view both her and her mother with suspicion. Possibly with good reason.

The Day Jonas Shadowed His Dad by Thore Hansen. Translated by Olivia Lasky. Jonas, whose mother has died, is intrigued by the vagueness with which his father describes his work, so decides one day to follow him. In a cottage in the woods he descends into a tunnel which leads to somewhere brighter and, to Jonas, more intriguing. Overall, though, this is a little underwhelming to regular readers of SF and Fantasy.

A Lion Roars in Longyearbyen by Margrét Helgadóttir. Global warming and migration have led to Longyearbyen becoming a destination city for its December light festival. One of the (unheard number of two) lions in its zoo – thought to be the last actually born in the wild – has gone from its cage. In the midwinter darkness a human hunter preparess to stalk it.

Finland:

A Bird Does Not Sing Because It Has an Answer by Johanna Sinisalo. A human monitors an extremely slow moving avatar suit overseeing the nesting site of a pair of (by now incredibly rare) flycatchers while not being supposed to intervene in natural processes. In the meantime, Central’s coordinating AI is decoding the meanings of birdsong. The story’s last word is devastatingly apposite.

Elegy for a Young Elk by Hannu Rajaniemi. In a world where most humans have disappeared into some sort of upload heaven, once and would-be poet Kosonen roams the woods with his talking bear Otso. Both like booze. He is visited by an avatar of his former wife who wants him to retrieve an object which fell into a firewalled city dominated by plague gods. Their lost son also happens to be in there.

The Wings that Slice the Sky by Emmi Itäranta. Translated from the Finnish Taivasta silpovat sivet by the author. Judging by the Author’s Note this seems to be a take on the Finnish epic Kalevala. Louhi, a woman with magical powers, marries into the well to do family which lives in Pohjola in the north. One day she rescues a shipwrecked man from the south and nurses him back to health. In return for a horse to take him back south she asks for a Sampo, a device which will ensure Pohjola will never again want for anything. The bargain is also to include one of her daughters. He sends a blacksmith to forge the Sampo but he in turn spreads the fact of Pohjola’s existence and soon many visitors arrive. Men being men – even (especially?) with magical powers – things don’t end well.

The following did not appear in the published review.

Pedant’s corner:- some of the translations are into USian. Otherwise; Fin (Finn.) “None of these alternatives were appealing” (‘None …. was appealing’ and, strictly, there can be only two alternatives, not three,) “hockey cards” (being set in Sweden these would more likely be ‘ice hockey cards’,) Janosz’ (Janosz’s,) laying (x 2, lying,) “a wee bit of sarcasm” (a wee bit? The author must have spent time in Scotland.) “None of them were armed” (None … was armed.) “The only movement along its streets were those of plastic bags and battered tin cans” (The only movement … was …,) “to such a prophesy” (prophecy,) smothes (smooths,) Douglas’ (Douglas’s,) “the less electromagnetic emissions the better” (the fewer … emissions the better.) “She sat down …and swung its legs” (either, ‘It sat down …and swung its legs’ or, She sat down …and swung her legs’,) sprung (sprang.)

Gollancz, 2020, 605 p.

This exploration of a far future Solar System travel through which is powered by solar sails with auxiliary rocket powered launches for shorter journeys continues the adventures of the Ness sisters, Adrana and Fura, after the events of Revenger and Shadow Captain. The readjustment of the economies of the Congregation following the sisters’ agglomeration of a cache of quoins – which resulted in their values changing – is in full swing but they are in flight from a squadron representing the banks and commerce, led by one Incer Stallis. In search of a bone skull (skulls are a kind of mystical communication device only accessible by adepts) to replace Revenger’s defunct one, they take over another ship, the Merry Mare and split the two crews.

Adrana’s promise to an alien, the Clacker, Tazaknakak, to take him to the spindly habitat known as Trevenza Reach gives her an objective. Meanwhile Fura’s ongoing succumbing to the glowy threatens to completely debilitate her while crew member Strambli has been taken over by ghostie stuff.

Adrana’s suspicions about Lagganvor – whom they picked up in Shadow Captain – multiply while her curiosity about the Congregation’s history (the so-called Occupations which have been recurring at increasing intervals and in whose thirteenth instance they all live) grows.

The scenario’s resemblance to (post)Napoleonic era naval encounters adds a swashbuckling feel to proceedings as does some of the terminology. In a sense this is old boy’s adventure stuff with SF trappings – except of course the adventurers are women.

Fura realises quoins are drawn to the Old Sun, and it is revealed they are really little machines, (or vast machines yet mostly hidden,) healing angels designed to descend into the ailing fires of the Old Sun and make it youthful again. Each is a sort of engine in its own right, “‘not quite existing in the same plane of space and time as we do’” robbed from their true purpose, manipulated by aliens who needed humans to retrieve them from baubles.

In a somewhat hurried coda (in terms of what has gone before) they find the source of the recurring Occupations, an artefact called the Whaleship. A reference to Moby Dick?

While I found this conclusion a touch unsatisfactory the ride Reynolds takes us on in this trilogy is an attractive one. The Ness sisters are good company.

Pedant’s corner:-  “into the open top of the one of the central tanks” (into the open top of one of the central tanks,) “the epicentre of the console” (the centre of the console,) maw (many times. A maw is a stomach; not a mouth,) “being stirred around in bucket of cement” (in a bucket of,) Werrenwell (elsewhere always Werranwell,) “can’t fix in jiffy” (in a jiffy,) “presented with lavishly-wrapped gift” (with a lavishly-wrapped gift,) sprung (many times; sprang,) “‘a number of enter[rising successes to his success’” (clumsy double use of success,) “positioning it within cradle at the focal point” (within the cradle,) fit (fitted,) “had called in to the warn her” (had called in to warn her,) an extraneous opening quote mark within a piece of dialogue, “the intervals between volleys was much reduced” (the intervals … were much reduced,) “at that great long tableaux” (tableaux is plural: tableau,) “faded but not entire disreputable café” (but not entirely disreputable,) “back out from under overhang” (under the overhang.) “‘Why not eh.’” (is a question so ‘Why not, eh?’,) “Stallis’ face” (Stallis’s,) “urging them to not to delay” (urging them not to delay,) “even if none of the sizes were an  ideal fit” (even if none of the sizes was an ideal fit,) “as yet the wounds were little too raw” (were a little too raw.)

Gollancz, 2024, 312 p, plus 2p Author’s Note.    Reviewed for ParSec 12.

In the future universe this novel describes people live in kinds of utopias where they don’t bother to learn many languages or even to read and write, delegating translation to AIs and work to machines, an existence which in effect renders the typical specimen of humanity, to a degree, infantile. Nevertheless, two different modes of faster than light travel dubbed α and β have been developed. The first utilises simultaneous time and space dilation and is (fractionally) slower than the second, which deploys extremely rapid spacetime bubbling. (Not that this is important. Any putative FTL technology is only ever a handy device for getting characters from A to B.) The α and β spacecraft types in which their passengers travel are called startships (note that second ‘t’,) which are essentially hospitals; space travel, of any sort, is dangerous, a spaceship’s passengers require protection. And the ships themselves, contrary to some earlier imaginings, are not transplanted marine vessels since a spaceship doesn’t need a rigid framework nor corridors. Here, instead, they consist of woven clusters of moveable Meissner tetrahedra linked together by smartcable. Utopias, though, need to be escapable or conflict will arise. And escape from a spaceship is difficult.

As to the story, we begin with two startships, Sα-Niro and Sβ-Oubliette, sent to monitor the black hole HD 167128, aka QV Tel. Niro’s Captain Alpha Raine comes to believe there is an intelligence communicating with him from inside the black hole. The other members of both ships’ crews of course dismiss this out of hand. After all nothing can escape a black hole. Raine then sets about murdering them all.

The focus then switches to a historian named Saccade on the Masqueworld. She specialises in twentieth century serial killers in fact and fiction and so seems perfect to interview the since captured Raine. Rather than in person she meets Raine in a sim where his appearance shows all sorts of disfigurements even though he ought to have no control over it.

Raine calls the black hole dweller the Gentleman; a personage who alludes to himself with references to Sympathy for the Devil. Prior to this our narrator has addressed the reader of our century directly and the text is littered with (apparently misremembered from our time) mangled lyrics to popular songs (“we all live in a yellow sunny scene”) and film titles such as Two Thousand and One Odysseys or Surfing Private Ryan, along with references to the empire of Ancient Room and a description of nightmares as angsttraum. Roberts is clearly enjoying himself throughout here by dropping these nuggets. SF buffs will also recognise allusions such as, “‘My God,’ said Li, ‘It’s full of tears!’”

Raine says the Gentleman was imprisoned in QV Tel, presumably by the universe’s creator. We are, then, delving into the realms of religion and philosophy.

After this encounter Saccade, too, develops murderous tendencies but is nevertheless allowed, under observation, to travel to the planet Boa Memória where a flamboyant adventurer called Berd is planning to be the first human to walk on the metal core of a planet. This requires not only a heat-insulating suit but also a device to bend the angle of gravity and so obviate the crushing pressures to be encountered.

This device is really the core of the novel. Its construction may have been necessary to the universe in order to preserve information that would otherwise be lost when black holes evaporate. It is conjectured that the reason for the evolution of intelligent life was so that Berd’s device could be invented. But if deployed at the event horizon of a black hole…. What might occur? What might escape?

The rest of the novel is taken up with a race to QV Tel to prevent Saccade reaching there with the device and the various arguments among the characters as to whether the Gentleman exists and how or if to deal with him and Saccade both.

This is a fairly dense though intermittently playful novel brimming with ideas, enough to fill many a novel, but none of its scenes really evoke SF’s famed sense of wonder. And, though Matr Guunarsonsdottir, a self-centred physicist with a Trumpian attitude to reality – whatever she says she instantly believes even if it contradicts something she said before – is a recognisable type, nor do the characters really convince. (Except the Gentleman of course. The Devil always has the best tunes.) There is something perfunctory about many of their interactions. But Roberts has given himself a get-out clause here, these humans have been cosseted throughout their lives, they are immature.

The ideas are what make the book though.

The following did not appear in the published review.

Pedant’s corner:- 10^20 (10²⁰. Is superscription some sort of lost art in typesetting? It can’t be. The ^ appears to be superscripted,) a missing comma before a piece of direct speech (x 3,) “Choe Eggs’ suggestion” (Choe Eggs’s,) coliseum (in our world, Colosseum, but this future universe has forgotten our spellings,) grotesquenesses (grotesqueries.) “She turned to face him four-squarer” (four-square?) siriusphis tree (I have no idea what that meant,) focussed (x 2, elsewhere – and correctly – focused,) annex (annexe,) crafts (craft,) “the milky way” (the Milky Way,) “in visible spectrums” (the plural of spectrum is spectra: but, in any case, there is only one visible spectrum,) profondimetre (it was a depth-measuring device; so, profondimeter,) miniscule (minuscule,) Joyns’ (several times; Joyns’s – which appeared once,) span (spun,) “believe rather than it emanates from” (that it emanates,) “on behalf of” (context demands ‘on the part of’,) hiccough (hiccup,) “effecting her emotions” (again context demands ‘affecting’,) shuggled (usually – certainly in Scotland – ‘shoogled’,) neurones (neurons,) “she was laying in the darkness” (lying,) sprung (sprang,) “the only thing that really mattered were …” (the only thing that really mattered was…,) shrunk (shrank.)

Issue number 13 of ParSec magazine is now on sale.

As well as the usual fictional delights this one contains my reviews of:-

The Queen by Nick Cutter

Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Hammajang Luck by Makana Yamamoto

The Black Hunger by Nicholas Pullen

and The Quiet by Barnaby Martin

Newly arrived for review for issue 14 is a Luna novella from Luna Press, Orphan Planet by Maheedah Reza, another author new to me.

Vintage, 2005, 242 p, plus xii p Introduction by Susan Sontag. Translated from the Icelandic Kristnihald Undir Jökli (Helgafell, Reykjavík, 1968) by Magnus Magnusson. First published in English as Christianity at Glacier (Helgafell, Reykjavík, 1972.)

In her introduction – which, as is usually the best approach with them, ought to be left until after reading the text – Susan Sontag states that novels that proceed largely through dialogue, or are relentlessly jocular or didactic, those whose characters do little but muse to themselves or debate with someone else, or are initiated into secret knowledge, those with characters having supernatural qualities or contain imaginary geography are – despite the long history of the picaresque tale and the many classic stories which exemplify these things – considered innovative, ultra-literary or bizarre, and are given labels to signify their outlier status

Science fiction

Tale, fable, allegory

Philosophical novel

Dream novel

Visionary novel

Literature of fantasy

Wisdom lit

Spoof

Sexual turn-on

and that “convention dictates we slot many of the last centuries’ perdurable literary achievements into one or another of them.” She concludes that thought with, “The only novel I know that fits into all of them is Under the Glacier.”

Our unnamed narrator has been tasked by the Bishop of Reykjavík to journey to the Snæfells glacier to investigate the situation there, where the local pastor Jón Jónsson, known as Prímus (he fixes stoves,) has taken no salary for twenty years. There are rumours the church has been boarded up, the pastor is living with a woman not his wife and he has allowed a corpse to be interred in the glacier.

This is the same glacier to which Jules Verne sent his adventurers under the influence of Árni Saknússemm and the leadership of Professor Lidenbrock to start their journey to the centre of the Earth. Laxness implicitly critiques Verne’s piece of cultural appropriation. The locals at Snæfells do consider the spot to be the world’s centre and have little consideration for the outside world.

The text is in the form of the emissary’s report and during it he only ever refers to himself as the undersigned or the Emissary of the Bishop, soon shortened to Embi. Dialogue is laid out as if in the text of a play and without punctuation otherwise.

Embi, the undersigned, is confused by life at Snæfells. None of his interlocutors seems to give him a straight answer, they talk to him as if he is the bishop and generally are only obliquely forthcoming.

His attitude is that, “‘I was just sent here like any other ass to make inquiries about things that don’t concern me at all and that I don’t care about at all.’”

There is a fair amount of philosophising. A shepherd called Saknússemm II tells Embi, “Of all the creatures that man kills for his amusement there is only one that he kills out of hatred – other men. Man hates nothing so much as himself.”

Pastor Jón says, “‘History is always entirely different to what has happened….. The greater the care with which you explain a fact, the more nonsensical a fable you fish out of the chaos….. The difference between a novelist and a historian is this: that the former tells lies deliberately and for the fun of it; the historian tells lies in his simplicity and imagines he is telling the truth.’”

Dr Godman Sýngmann has a robust take on religion, “‘The Christians without ceremony stole from the Jews their national literature and added to it a piece of Greek overtime work they call the New Testament, which is mostly a distortion of the Old Testament, and, what’s more, an anti-Semitic book. My motto is, leave the Jews alone. Those who deck themselves out in stolen gods are not viable.’”

Embi is particularly baffled by the information that Sýngmann (when he dies) has four widows but was not a bigamist.

In a diversion on skuas the narrator indulges in a little meta-textual teasing. “All birds fly better than aeroplanes if they can fly at all. All birds are perhaps a little wrong, because an absolute once-and-for-all formula for a bird has never been found, just as all novels are bad because the correct formula for a novel has never been found.”

At one point we are told that Prince Polo biscuits are the only gastronomical delicacy that Icelanders have allowed themselves since they became a wealthy nation.

A woman named Úa, who may be the pastor’s wife (or may not,) turns up. She has travelled the world and is of the opinion that “‘Americans are children. Children believe in guns and gunmen. One hundred forty-seven gunshots in children’s television a week. In children’s films there have to be child murders.’” She spends her time knitting sea-mittens as she thinks the world requires them.

She also says, “‘In our society the rules about love are made either by castrated men or impotent greybeards who lived in caves and ate moss-campion roots.’”

Under the Glacier has no plot as such, the concepts discussed within it are sometimes abstruse, the conclusion is illusory.

It is utterly memorable.

Pedant’s corner:- In her Introduction Susan Sontag slightly mischaracterises Science Fiction as always featuring a male protagonist. That is certainly no longer true and wasn’t in 2004 when she wrote it. Dr Godman Syngmann (in the text it’s Sýngmann,) La Vie de Henry Brulard (it’s La Vie de Henri Brulard.) Otherwise; “All birds are perhaps a little wrong” (All birds is perhaps a little wrong?)

Just in from ParSec is If the Stars Are Lit by Sara K Ellis, published by the Scottish based Luna Press.

The author is another that is new to me.

Of the list ParSec sent to choose from this time this was the only Science Fiction on offer.

All the rest were fantasy. For me that is a depressing trend.

My review of the book will be scheduled for ParSec 14.

My latest book for review has arrived courtesy of  ParSec.

It is The Quiet by Barnaby Martin, published by MacMillan. Rather refreshingly it seems to be a work of Science Fiction rather than fantasy.

The author is another who is new to me.

Orbit, 2023, 424 p.

Like her previous novel, Provenance, this is set in the author’s Imperial Radch universe but well away from the ongoing internal Radch conflict set out in her first three books.

This one has three viewpoint characters with their relevant chapters following in a strict order. Enae is a woman who spent most of her life in thrall to her grandmother but found her expected inheritance did not exist. As a make work job she is given an assignment to find a refugee from LoveHate Station who fled from there two hundred years ago. She could have paid this token attention but decides she may as well do a proper job.

Reet is a misfit, an orphan brought up by kind adoptive parents but who became aware early on that his thoughts and tendencies were unacceptable to society.

Qven is brought up very strangely indeed, in a group of similar juveniles whose status varies from stage to stage as they grow collectively older but whose interactions can be cannibalistic.

Both Enae and Reet’s chapters are in the third person but Qven’s is in first.

It does not take the reader long to work out what Reet’s origins are and their relationship to Enae’s quest. Qven is facing the necessity to “match” with someone else to become a functioning adult. Failure to do so will result in an unpleasant death. His intended match is someone not to his taste.

All comes to a head on a habitat of the Presger Translators, the group who mediate the treaty between humans and the dangerous aliens the Presger. Translators are bred for this purpose and are not considered fully human. Indeed any human who ventures into Presger – or even Translator – areas forfeits human status.

Prior to his arrival there Reet had been inveigled into an association with the Hikipi, a group who believe that, since no human has seen them, the Presger are illusory. This is used against him at the crux of the novel, a committee meeting to decide whether Reet is actually human, a question which by then also encompasses Qven.

Leckie has an unusual way with personal pronouns, Enae thinks of hirself as sie and uses hir as a possessive. Other pronouns to be found here include e and em as well as the more common ones. There is also an inordinate amount of conversation and consideration of tea and coffee drinking.

All in all though, an above average space opera.

Pedant’s corner:- “there were a ridiculous number of shops” (there was a ridiculous number of shops.) “Shaking hir head at her foolishness” (Leckie’s control of her pronouns failed her here. ‘Shaking hir head at hir foolishness’ would be truer to her text.)

Corvus, 2021, 283 p.

Two Tribes is narrated as if by a historian called Zoe from 250 years in the future. She lives in a post-Catastrophe England now under the rule of something known as The Guiding Body which consists of “qualified, able and scientifically minded people the Liberals now regard as the correct way to run the country.” The world is globally warmed, with parts barely habitable. What were roads are now underwater, with boardwalks at first floor level to allow access to buildings’ upper floors. Praying mantises are a common sight. Culture is heavily Chinese influenced after a Protectorate which helped the Guiding Body into power. The currency is the yuan. Militiamen patrol the streets, their goggles giving them information about everybody. The poor work on flood defences and in one scene are patronised by an official.

As well as having access to twenty-first century social media records Zoe has come across the diaries of two people from our time, before the Warring Factions era. These are Harry, an architect, and Michelle, a hairdresser, but who actually met and whose differing attitudes she sees as a precursor to the times now in her past. Despite her friend Cally’s reservations Zoe conceives of writing Harry and Michelle’s history in the form of a novel to illustrate the beginnings of how her society came to pass saying that the past’s remoteness makes it comforting.

The bulk of Two Tribes is made up of that novel and describes the evolution of the relationship between its two protagonists, one from either side of the Brexit debate, each impatient of the other and each embarrassed by their families and friends but each beginning to accommodate the other’s viewpoint.

This is a subtle but risky piece of writing by Beckett. Subtle because it captures the slightly off note that manuscripts by inexperienced writers tend to have; but risky since it may fail to provide the richer satisfactions readers find from more accomplished practitioners.

Beckett renders that unpolished type of writing (the kind of story treatment that we’re often told authors who are later successful have consigned to a drawer in the deepest part of their desk, never to be resurrected) well; the unnecessary repetition of information, the going over the same ground in a slightly different context, some characters who are little more than mouthpieces and others who at times lean over into the cartoonish, the somewhat stark oppositions between those with contrasting attitudes, the necessity for Zoe to explain things to her putative readership which do not need explanations to Beckett’s readers. (For example, the derivation of the term Brexit.)

The sections set in the future of course do not suffer from any of that and read as assuredly as any “normal” novel. Whether that is enough in this case to offset the infelicities of the part supposedly written by Zoe is debatable.

Pedant’s corner:- “He had no other marketable skills other than designing buildings” (has one ‘other’ too many,) “men and woman pole shallow punts” (women,) reindeers (the plural of reindeer is reindeer,) “as a way booting nuisances upstairs” (as a way of booting.) “The rest of the party were already there” (the rest … was already there,) “counts out the points out with gusto” (has one ‘out’ too many.)

Tor, 2021, 492, including 12 p Glossary of persons, places and objects, 2 p On the pronunciation and writing system of the Teixcalaanli language and 2p Acknowledgements.

After her part in the transition of the Teixcalaan Empire from the indiction of Emperor Six Direction to that of Nineteen Adze, ambassador Mahit Dzmare has returned to Lsel Station. There she finds herself under threat from Councillor Aknel Amnardbat who suspects her of treason – or at least being too sympathetic to the Empire. There is also the illegal nature of her imago (a copy of the memories and personality of her predecessor as ambassador, Yskandr Aghavn, and previous personalities of his line – none of which seem to impinge on Mahit’s consciousness, though) of which she has two versions, the deliberately damaged one implanted by Amnardbat’s operatives, plus the one illicitly salvaged from Aghavn’s body on Teixcalaan.

In the meantime a group of apparently ruthlessly implacable aliens has been invading the boundaries of Teixcalaanli space just beyond the Lsel Station area and the local Teixcalaan commander, Imperial yaotlek Nine Hibiscus, has sent back to Teixcaalan a request for a translator, to which Ministry of Information officer, Three Seagrass, Mahit’s former liaison on Teixcalaan, has responded in person, with the intention of enlisting Mahit’s help.

Also, on Teixcalaan, in the imperial capital, The Jewel of the World, the former Emperor’s clone sibling Eight Antidote, eleven years old, is being trained in statecraft and the military arts while also being enlisted by Nineteen Adze to spy for her. (Imperial politics is never an easy situation.)

The aliens have devastated the planet of Peloa-2, leaving little but eviscerated bodies behind them. The only form of communication the Teixcalaan forces can decipher is a hideous sound that causes humans to retch.

Martine’s book’s title here invokes the words which the Roman writer Tacitus placed in the mouth of the Caledonian chief Calgacus, and indeed the full quote (of which “They make a desert and they call it peace” is a part) is given as one of the book’s epigraphs. Its relevance is that Peloa-2 is now a desert and is the place where Three Seagrass and Mahit meet with the aliens’ representatives to attempt to broker a peace.

The aliens are vaguely humanoid in form, bipedal, heads on top of their bodies etc but seem to be able to communicate with each other without speaking; as if they were telepathic. Despite their nausea-inducing noises, Three Seagrass and Mahit manage to achieve a sort of communication back by singing to them.

[Aside. The aliens (one of whose bodies is taken from a destroyed space ship for examination) are said by several of the characters to be mammals. Creatures which are true mammals could only originate from Earth. There is no suggestion in the book that the aliens are derived from terrestrial creatures. Evolution elsewhere may produce a similar kind of animal which feeds its young from secretions from a parent’s body but they could not properly be described as mammals.]

The nearest description of the nature of the aliens is that they have a kind of hive mind and are seemingly incapable of understanding that humans have not. But the Teixcalaanli military employs single seat spacecraft known as Shards who are connected in an instantaneous network which means they experience everything the other Shard pilots do. This so-called Shard Trick provides a key to conflict resolution.

Teixcalaanli politics is as full of intrigue and personal manœuvring as any reader could wish. Add in the external conflict and the interpersonal relationships and the whole is a diverting read.

Pedant’s corner:- “open-mawed hangar” (a hangar does not have a stomach,) “who would rather bleed into a bowl for propriety rather than give up” (has one ‘rather’ too many.) “None of them were trying” (None of them was trying. There was another instance of ‘None … were.’) “She was going to have to live with it, wasn’t she.” (Is a question, so needs a question mark at its end,) “sharp-toothed maws” (and stomachs don’t have teeth,) “an insolvable political problem” (either ‘unsolvable’ or ‘insoluble’ but not ‘insolvable’.) “‘Did he now,’ said Nineteen Adze.” (‘Did he now?’ said Nineteen Adze.) “There was no hesitance in it” (no hesitancy.)