Some Desperate Glory

What happens if you take the classic space opera format -- soldiers! weapons! aliens! humanity fighting for its very survival! -- and give it a queer, feminist, 21st century twist? You get Some Desperate Glory, that's what.

The book manages to walk the tightrope of combining hard sci-fi themes with social science fiction, and manages to pull it off in style.

(Minor spoilers ahead)

The primary character, Kyr, is a teenage soldier in the vein of Starship Troopers or Ender's Game, brought up from birth to be one of humanity's last living soldiers on a secret base where the few remaining humans have their resistance movement. So far, so expected.

But as the book progresses we see Kyr's black-and-white view of the world gradually peeled back and altered as she gains access to other, hidden and banned points of view.

Without going into too much spoilery detail, over the course of the book's 500-or-so pages we accompany Kyr on this journey of discovery and it's a fast, exciting, scary and emotional ride. The characters are well written and believable and although the plot occasionally becomes convoluted, it's well worth persevering.

From time to time, humanity is gifted the formation of a writer of such unimaginable capability and spirit that their work may reorient our past and reshape our future. Science fiction has had no shortage of such writers: Verne, Asimov, Le Guin, to name only a few — and now Tesh.

While this is her debut novel, it is obvious that Emily Tesh has refined her craft for much longer than the writing of one novel. This book is a finely-wrought masterwork with the precision and efficiency of Traviss, the soul and insight of Le Guin, and a creativity and compassion all her own. I cannot wait to delve into her prior work and to see what she creates next.

Heed the content warning at the beginning of this book, though it's not as bad as it could be. But if you have any interest in antifascist military sci-fi, in what it means to fight injustice in a hopeless world, or just a good damn book, give it a read.

And if, by some twist of fate, Emily Tesh ever reads this review: thank you. I didn't even realize there was still a Gaea inside me, and now I know what to do about it.

You’re almost certainly familiar with Kahneman’s and Fredrickson’s wonderful ice-water experiment (“When More Pain is Preferred to Less”, also called the peak-end rule), the one where victisubjects opted for a longer (90s vs 60s) painful experience if the last few seconds were less painful. I love that result. I’ve found it invaluable for reframing life situations.

This is a 436-page book, of which the first 220 or so pages are excruciating. Oh, how I wanted to toss it away! But I was encouraged to stick with it. I did. And I’m glad.

Halfway through, it took an interesting twist, and yes it was foreshadowed but no, not the directions it took after the midpoint. That was thoughtful, creative, nuanced, suspenseful, engaging, and even sweet; and it just kept getting better. A whole lot of Did Not See That Coming, even when you think you see what’s coming, and damn, I really loved it. Solid 4.5 stars, but rounding down because even with all that praise it was still objectively heavyhanded (I know, it’s YA, I should be more forgiving); because of the eyeroll-worthy dei ex machina and other wildly convenient coincidences; and finally because I can’t objectively be sure if the last half was truly-actually good or if I was swayed by the peak-end rule. What I can say is, I’m really glad to have read this and can highly, highly recommend it but only to those who promise to persevere through the first half. Tesh took a big risk in writing the book that way, and I’m sure it cost her sales and readers. If she decides to go for the adult reader market, I’m looking forward to seeing her future work.

I really enjoyed Emily Tesh's Silver in the Wood and Drowned Country novellas, and so was excited to read this (very different) novel. In some ways this novel emits YA sf child warrior action dystopian vibes, but it's a lot heavier than I'd expect a YA book to be.

This is a book where aliens have destroyed earth, and there's a small space enclave of humans set on vengeance at all costs. But, the thrust of the story is that when the protagonist Kyr leaves this community, she discovers that these humans are largely a fascist cult, and this is extremely hard to swallow information for cult poster child Kyr, still set on vengeance for humanity.

It's a book about deprogramming from propaganda and the narratives you've grown up with. It's a book about burying queer feelings in unsafe environments even from yourself. Unsurprisingly, it's also a book with (at times) unlikeable main characters who do some awful things at every scale.

(I will also repeat the book's own content warnings here which are: "contains sexist, homophobic, transphobic, racist, and ableist attitudes; sexual assault, including discussion of forced pregnancy; violence; child abuse; radicalization as child abuse; genocide; suicidal ideation; and suicide". I really appreciate the trend of books providing their own content warnings these days!! It is nice to not be surprised by these things!)

It's always hard in any story to not to be sympathetic with the main character, but I think you need extend quite a bit of trust towards the author for the first part of the book. Moreover, I also wonder if your excitement about this book will likely parallel your desire to hear this sort of "white person unlearning shitty childhood beliefs" story. I personally think it's a pretty believable arc, especially because this book is more of an "unlearning" story than a "redemption for past actions" story. So, I mention all this not as an insult to the book, but rather a conditional on any recommendation.

(I don't know where else to put this thought but it's an extension of the above conditional and also a content warning of sorts; there's a scene at the end with Kyr and Yiso, an alien that Kyr has been xenophobic at and has misgendered for most of the book. They're having a poignant moment, and in that moment out of nowhere, Kyr asks to touch Yiso's alien hair-equivalent? This is incredibly creepy?? I'm sorry??? It's just that in a book dealing with being less space racist maybe a "touching" hair-touching scene could have gotten a second look. They already had an awkward hug scene earlier that would have made way more sense to revisit here!)

Finally, to put a few spoilery thoughts in a vague way, I did not at all expect the plot of the book to go the way it did. I appreciated the way the turn of the book provides Kyr with some much needed perspective that would have felt like implausible personal growth otherwise. I also appreciate the plot structure revisiting the events of the beginning of the book with a different perspective. It was a nice echo, especially with a character who begins the book herself obsessed with replaying past historical military events in VR.