A Memory Called Empire

A sweeping epic of political intrigue and culture, as Mahit Dzmare is urgently summoned to represent tiny outpost Lsel Station in the mighty capital of the huge and powerful Teixcalaan Empire. Completely unclear what happened to her predecessor - missing? Murdered? Just needed more help? Mahit ships out with a copy of her predecessor's personality and memories in her head to help her assimilate faster, but this advantage doesn't last long and Mahit is left to figure out how to survive and represent Lsel's interests in a very complex, very alien, and VERY dangerous imperial capital city that seems to keep trying to kill her.

And while the empire is not technically alien to Mahit in a literal sense - they're all human - the cultures have grown so far apart that she is seen as a primitive barbarian who wouldn't qualify for citizenship. If you don't enjoy political intrigue and don't appreciate detailed portrayals of interesting alien culture, this book probably is not one you'd enjoy. If you do, however, it's a very in-depth and interesting read. It reminded me a little of the "Daughter of the Empire" trilogy (Feist & Wurts) for the beautifully complex culture and the political scheming; and a lot of C. J. Cherryh's Chanur series where there's a real and beautifully portrayed struggle to just communicate with other intelligent beings who simply think completely differently from each other. Anyone who's learned another language and tried living in a country where they're a foreigner will identify with the reality that just studying a language at home does not prepare you for understanding all the nuances or being accepted, and will appreciate the multiple levels of struggle that Mahit is facing.

It’s very common for books to be analogies about another topic; speculative fiction has long been the means by which authors have explored — and invited their readers to contemplate at length — complex topics. Indeed, some of the writing that has made me think the most about imperialism and colonialism are books I’ve reviewed in my June 2021 blogpost of queer fiction.

It’s perhaps less common for a space opera to be a cypher for the author’s postdoctoral research that they should have been writing instead of this novel.

A Memory Called Empire is a space opera where we see a hegemonic empire through the eyes of a newly-appointed ambassador from a small neighbouring polity. As well as an author (and amongst other things) Arkady Martine is a historian with an interest in the eastern margins of early mediæval Christendom; this Hugo-winning début novel is, to some extent, a fictional consideration of the relationship between the Byzantine Empire and the Bagratid Kingdom of Armenia before the latter was annexed in 1044. But don’t worry — this is neither a history book nor an academic text. It’s very firmly a queernorm space opera, with diplomatic machinations and Very Important People™ wrestling for power.

If you want a clearer explanation, before reading the book, about the insidious nature of imperial colonialism, Martine’s interview with Strange Horizons, promoting A Memory Called Empire, is a really interesting read on several topics — imperialism; poetry; how technology could bring about a queer­norm society, allowing a polyamorous character to be messy without it being about their bisexuality, co-editing a magazine of creative writing about Climate Justice. And how she met her wife through Star Wars fanfic.

Our protagonist in A Memory Called Empire is the new, urgently-requested ambassador from a small mining space-station to the galaxy-spanning, conquest-hungry empire of Teixcalaan, the centre of civilisation. We see this massive bureaucracy through her eyes as she tries to find out what her predecessor had been up to to get himself killed, while also protecting her station’s interests. The world-building is very rich and detailed, giving a great feel for what Teixcalaan is like — to my mind more so than the first of any other space opera series I’ve read. (And I liked that Teixcalaan seems to me curiously Mexica-themed — character names like Three Seagrass and Thirty Larkspur sit alongside titles like yaotlek for Imperial generals, far too like Nahuatl yāōtl to be coincidence, imho.) And the plot is gripping; not since I was a child have I found myself wanting so much to go to bed early so I can read some more.

The sequel [b:A Desolation Called Peace|45154547|A Desolation Called Peace (Teixcalaan, #2)|Arkady Martine|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1591755604l/45154547.SY75.jpg|61309907] was released in March 2021.

CN: murder, police brutality, racism and xenophobia, colonial imperialism, house arrest, panic attacks, chronic illness and suicide

Rounding up to five stars because
1) the ending was way better than I expected
2) poetry used several times for political purpose
3) amazing discussion of the way language and culture, even imported culture, influence our personalities
4) in depth analysis of the complications of translating verb tense, idioms, and literary allusions between two very different cultures
5) unexpected exploration of the nervous and endocrine systems’ impact on personality and identity (yes really)
6)sneaky romance elements I didn’t see coming and, despite my general distaste for such, didn’t annoy me
7) I could keep listening stuff but that seems sufficient
I see some weaknesses here and there but with how elegantly all these elements come together and play important roles in a plot that delivers several exciting moments, I feel obligated to rate it highly. I’ve really gotta get to the second one because there’s a few other things I didn’t mention that I definitely want to see explored.

The premise of this book is great: the young new ambassador to an aggressive space empire must try to protect her far weaker culture from colonization while also investigating the mysterious death of her predecessor. Her partner in both endeavors is an out-of-date copy of that predecessor’s mind that is installed in her head.

Neat! A space opera that revolves around diplomacy rather than combat and shows a colonial perspective while also using the contrast of cultures to pose some interesting ideas about identity and community.

Unfortunately the book doesn’t play out this premise very far. The young ambassador Mahit Dzmare, though supposedly tested for aptitude and trained for diplomacy, acts naive and clueless. She spends most of her time as a pawn of various imperial factions, and not even a very valuable one.

She is constantly torn between her loyalty to her home and her infatuation with imperial culture, but that culture is just not very appealing. It is cleverly coded as Space Aztec (rather than the more hackneyed Space Roman or Space Briton), and their society revolves around simulated blood sacrifice and poetry.

I just didn’t feel the seduction of all that poetry, and I ended up skimming the long passages where Dzmare laments her inability to compose like a native. There isn’t much description of Dzmare’s native culture though, so perhaps the implication is that she’s from an even duller place.

Still, the book has some strong characterization and enough interesting ideas to see me through to the end. It’s refreshing to read this kind of space opera that innovates in so many ways, even when not all of them end up paying off.

This Hugo Award winning and Nebula nominee for 2019 is a big book about an ambassador sent to a territory hungry empire, trying to stave off annexation. The previous ambassador died suddenly (murder?), and so that is another thing she gets to work on. All Lsel natives (a satellite nation) have an imago implanted, which is the memory of 1 or more previous generations. In this case, Ambassador Mahit Dzmare got the imago from the previous ambassador, albeit 15 years out of date.

So she goes to Teixcalaan and tries to figure it all out. This is an ancient empire, defined by ever growing annexations and she is trying to keep Lsel out of the maws of this hunger empire.

So first off, this is not a "space opera", despite the claims from multiple blurbs, including one on the front cover by [a:Ann Leckie|3365457|Ann Leckie|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1402526383p2/3365457.jpg]. I am not sure what their definition of "space opera" is, but mine includes hopping across planets and/or the galaxy and/or galaxies, full of action and derring do. There is none of that in this book. Virtually all the action takes place on the city planet of Teixcalaan and for much of the book, Mahit is a velvet handcuffed prisoner.

Now there is plenty of political intrigue, as she tries to figure out how to keep Lsel out of the claws of the Teixcalaani. She plays various factions off against each, and deals with the Emperor himself a few times. But far ranging and full of action it is not.

But it does have some great characters. Mahit is a wonder, as is her local attache, Three Seagrass (the names of all the Teixcalaani are a number and a noun). The two woman play off each other wonderfully and their growing friendship is a cool part of the book, despite what may seem like Three Seagrass' competing loyalties. Mahit's internal discussions are interesting, deep and emotional and she is an easy character to really get into and love.

Plenty happens, and there is some action that goes on, although Mahit is mostly just a passenger in these cases. The dialogue between her and her imago is fun to eavesdrop on as well.

But it went on for a very long time, nearly 500 pages. I ran out of steam a few times, but chugged on to the ending. It is also definitely a book one, because the real nemesis to both Teixcalaan and Lsel barely made a showing, so I am sure we are due for a real reckoning soon. I enjoyed it, but it is like a 3.5 star book for me. Given its current high rating, which I find unreasonable, I am going to mark it down to the 3 star book, mostly because it is not a space opera!

But I am anxious to read book 2.