NB! This is not Ancilliary Justice, but a crititical companion.
This book argues that Ann Leckie’s novel Ancillary Justice offers a devastating rebuke to the political, social, cultural, and economic injustices of American imperialism in the post 9/11 era. Following an introductory overview, the study offers four chapters that examine key themes central to the novel: gender, imperial economics, race, and revolutionary agency. Ancillary Justice’s exploration of these four themes, and the way it reveals how these issues are all fundamentally entangled with the problem of contemporary imperial power, warrants its status as a canonical work of science fiction for the twenty-first century. The book concludes with a brief interview with Leckie herself touching on each of the topics examined during the preceding chapters.
I really liked this book. I found it a little bit hard to get into it at first, as the main character is quite emotionally distant and the story is a bit confusing at first. But it grew on me. In fact, many aspects of the writing remind me of Kazuo Ishiguro's writing. Quite reserved. And then it sort of tugs you closer. It has so many fascinating ideas, but it's not at all luscious or overly descriptive. Sometimes, when I finish a book, it just drops out of my mind. This is not one of those. The main character, One Esk, became important to me and I know I'll think about it for a long time.
Unexpectedly magnificent, Ancillary Justice promises a seamless blend of literary and genre fiction. Unapologetically scifi, the sprawling world is kept in check by tight narration, ruthlessly efficient prose, and a plot that, once it gets rolling, refuses to stop for anything. The twists and turns are genuinely surprising, and that's no small praise for a book taking place in an entirely constructed world, where every plot movement is dictated entirely from the imagination of the author. Yet the rules never seem arbitrary, and the stakes never seem tacked on.
The immediate comparison that springs to mind is The Left Hand of Darkness, and the book serves as a compelling answer to the questions posed in LeGuin's classic. While it's no heir-- surely, we're all mature enough not to believe that every shock of modern brilliance is just some inheritance carried down from the ages-- it's certainly a thought provoking …
Unexpectedly magnificent, Ancillary Justice promises a seamless blend of literary and genre fiction. Unapologetically scifi, the sprawling world is kept in check by tight narration, ruthlessly efficient prose, and a plot that, once it gets rolling, refuses to stop for anything. The twists and turns are genuinely surprising, and that's no small praise for a book taking place in an entirely constructed world, where every plot movement is dictated entirely from the imagination of the author. Yet the rules never seem arbitrary, and the stakes never seem tacked on.
The immediate comparison that springs to mind is The Left Hand of Darkness, and the book serves as a compelling answer to the questions posed in LeGuin's classic. While it's no heir-- surely, we're all mature enough not to believe that every shock of modern brilliance is just some inheritance carried down from the ages-- it's certainly a thought provoking and modern update. It asks similar questions, but in new and inventive ways, and gets fascinating new answers.
What does it mean to be human? And what is the point of fate? If everything is per-ordained, what is the point of working toward a goal? If people are bred to their roles, do their choices truly matter, or is that fate as well? And if people can be made as well as born, what hand do they have in fate? And what does gender mean to any of this?
If you want to stew in that philosophical soup, read Ancillary Justice. Or if you just want a fascinating trip through a wonderful world with interesting characters, read it.
The only word of criticism I can offer is that the narrative conceit, that every other chapter takes place in another time, can take a while to get used to. This is largely due to the fact that the modern chapters have a much stronger plot than the chapters detailing the main character's past. Still, if one can get through that, the reward is more than worth it.
It's not just about the gendered pronouns, you get used to those eventually. This book has a brilliant story and universe, too. The book was a page-turner, and the fastest that I have read anything in a while. I have seen comparisons made between Leckie and Banks, but no recent Culture book has given me as much joy as Ancillary Justice, and I cannot wait to read the sequel.
1) "The space-dwelling nations of Shis'urna divided the universe into three parts. In the middle lay the natural environment of humans---space stations, ships, constructed habitats. Outside there was the Black---heaven, the home of God and everything holy. And within the gravity well of the planet Shis'urna itself---or for that matter any planet---lay the Underworld, the land of the dead from which humanity had had to escape in order to become fully free of its demonic influence."
2) "It seems very straightforward when I say 'I.' At the time, 'I' meant Justice of Toren, the whole ship and all its ancillaries. A unity might be very focused on what it was doing at that particular moment, but it was no more apart from 'me' than my hand is while it's engaged in a task that doesn't require my full attention. Nearly twenty years later 'I' would be a single body, …
1) "The space-dwelling nations of Shis'urna divided the universe into three parts. In the middle lay the natural environment of humans---space stations, ships, constructed habitats. Outside there was the Black---heaven, the home of God and everything holy. And within the gravity well of the planet Shis'urna itself---or for that matter any planet---lay the Underworld, the land of the dead from which humanity had had to escape in order to become fully free of its demonic influence."
2) "It seems very straightforward when I say 'I.' At the time, 'I' meant Justice of Toren, the whole ship and all its ancillaries. A unity might be very focused on what it was doing at that particular moment, but it was no more apart from 'me' than my hand is while it's engaged in a task that doesn't require my full attention. Nearly twenty years later 'I' would be a single body, a single brain. That division, I---Justice of Toren and I---One Esk, was not, I have come to think, a sudden split, not an instant before which 'I' was one and after which 'I' was 'we.' It was something that had always been possible, always potential. Guarded against. But how did it go from potential to real, incontrovertible, irrevocable?"
Review of "Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice" on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
All in all a great book, setting and story both worked for me, and where different enough from most other sci-fi stories to engage me and give me new ideas to think about. In some ways this book reminded me of the TV series Lexx, minus the trashyness.
One thing though made it extremely hard to read: the constant use of female forms for everyone and everything. The explanation that the main language spoken is without gender is fair enough, but then using a female gendered form is extremely confusing. I kinda would have preferred the it/they approach for undetermined gender.
Review of "Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice" on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
Heavy going at first due to vocabulary and nonlinearity, but great worldbuilding. The plot comes to a very satisfying conclusion while still laying good groundwork for the next book in the series.
If you've heard anything about this book, you've probably heard some discussion of its treatment of gender, which isn't, in my opinion, the most interesting thing about it, but it is interesting, and in ways I wasn't expecting, so I'm going to talk about it.
I'm betting this book will invite comparison to [book:the left hand of darkness], in that both books have a protagonist whose perceptions of gender do not match the self-perceptions of those around them. Breq, unlike Genly, has perceptions of gender which are probably different than the reader's; although many of the cultures she interacts with have a binary model of gender, Breq basically doesn't understand it, and refers to everyone as "she." Sometimes her observations are at odds with this (she refers someone's beard or broad shoulders) or someone else will use a male pronoun to talk about someone, but by and large, the reader …
If you've heard anything about this book, you've probably heard some discussion of its treatment of gender, which isn't, in my opinion, the most interesting thing about it, but it is interesting, and in ways I wasn't expecting, so I'm going to talk about it.
I'm betting this book will invite comparison to [book:the left hand of darkness], in that both books have a protagonist whose perceptions of gender do not match the self-perceptions of those around them. Breq, unlike Genly, has perceptions of gender which are probably different than the reader's; although many of the cultures she interacts with have a binary model of gender, Breq basically doesn't understand it, and refers to everyone as "she." Sometimes her observations are at odds with this (she refers someone's beard or broad shoulders) or someone else will use a male pronoun to talk about someone, but by and large, the reader sees all female cast.
The part I wasn't expecting: I relaxed into this. I felt this as a relief . I would not have said the existence of gender (of men?) was a source of stress in my life, but perhaps it is?
(Some more on gender: Breq understands gender as a social construct, and tries to figure it out using cues of dress and grooming, even though it seems that those around her probably understand gender as having some biological basis. Breq understands that genitalia comes in differing models, but not why this would be interesting to anyone who wasn't trying to reproduce.
Breq uses she/her pronouns for everyone, but is anyone female in any meaningful sense if you don't have any other gender options?)
Now onto the part I earlier implied was the "more interesting": I think this book is, or is trying to be, a commentary on justice and injustice in societies. Breq is a soldier and a slave in the Radch Imperial army. She perpetrates and exists because of, the Radch economy of conquest and expansion.
Early on, a character says:
"Here's the truth: luxury always comes at someone else's expense. One of the many advantages of civilization is that one doesn't generally have to see that, if one doesn't wish. You're free to enjoy its benefits without troubling your conscience."
This is about as close to a thesis statement as this book comes. Radch society is many respects completely foreign to me, but I recognize the portrait of a colonial economy, and of people trying to act morally while benefiting from the murder of people and the theft of their labour and resources.
Even Breq, who has a front row seat to the injustices of the Radch, seems able to put aside the terrible crime of her existence, but the book remembers it. Breq is trying to pursue justice, but she doesn't seem to question whether justice is possible in such unjust society. She seems to feel that the social order is sometimes unfair, but it is what it is, and there is no point attempting to upend it. Would I still find Breq a sympathetic character if I weren't the descendant of colonialists?
Review of "Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice" on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
It's been a while since I found new scifi that actually felt novel, perhaps because I was picking the wrong books.
On the surface, Ancillary Justice is a military scifi story set in roman style galactic empire whose culture has a distinctly asian flavour. However our lead character isn't the usual up and coming strapping young lad, but a ship in the vein of Banks' culture series. The main difference here being the 'ancillary' troops alluded to in the title, captured humans who are entirely controlled by the ship.
Many of the challenges she faces come from the distributed nature of her intelligence and will likely be familiar to anyone who has worked with distributed systems. This also gives rise to several passages told from multiple perspectives by the same narrator simultaneously.
The other striking aspect of the book is that gender is more or less a non-issue in the …
It's been a while since I found new scifi that actually felt novel, perhaps because I was picking the wrong books.
On the surface, Ancillary Justice is a military scifi story set in roman style galactic empire whose culture has a distinctly asian flavour. However our lead character isn't the usual up and coming strapping young lad, but a ship in the vein of Banks' culture series. The main difference here being the 'ancillary' troops alluded to in the title, captured humans who are entirely controlled by the ship.
Many of the challenges she faces come from the distributed nature of her intelligence and will likely be familiar to anyone who has worked with distributed systems. This also gives rise to several passages told from multiple perspectives by the same narrator simultaneously.
The other striking aspect of the book is that gender is more or less a non-issue in the empire most of the story is told in, which leads to all characters being referred to as "she", even when their apparent sex has been clearly identified.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed it and it's the first scifi I've found hard to stop reading in a while. Looking forward to the rest of the trilogy (because it's got to be a trilogy).
An interesting read. I can't remember the last time I read a fiction novel and walked away without a certainty that, were I magically transported to that place, I could survive rather well with the knowledge the story had shared with the reader. The characters here are simultaneously sympathetic and alien, and their culture is so unlike our own as to require a fair bit of the story to explain even the smallest details. All in all, though, a decent world-build, and some truly creative narrative choices. I found the use of only the feminine pronoun an oddly soothing choice, as it dismissed any concerns over gender or possible sexual tensions. And writing from the POV of a stranded hivemind was an inspired choice.
