Reviews and Comments

A short and fluffy space heist book. It's part of a trilogy of novellas, and so it leaves a bunch of larger worldbuilding questions unanswered. I love that the last ~15% of the book is reports with footnotes where there's a slow realization of what has just occurred.

The romance angle did not work for me. The book cover immediately felt like a huge indicator of a romance component so I knew it was coming, however it felt all told and not shown. What does Ada see in Rian other than immediately liking his eyes? We also don't get any of Rian's perspective here, and so it's extremely not clear what Rian sees in Ada either, and I'd honestly expect him to be more suspicious than he already is. If either was just using the other for their own ends, it would have honestly been a more interesting story.

I have a few quibbles with the heist elements too. One critical element of any sort of heist plot to me is that characters need to be deceiving other characters and more critically I think there also needs to be a deception and surprise for the reader--something unexpected, actions off page, motives unsaid. In this book, Ada lets too much slip to the reader about her secret motives and actions, while her main nemesis Rian is not effective. The book blurb says "she may not be entirely sure who's manipulating who until it's too late" and this wildly overstates the dynamics at play. I think it's also that I've read other books recently that do a better job of deceiving the reader in a way that feels effective and earned, especially The Dragonfly Gambit and even parts of Alien Clay.

When a novel feels like it strongly stands alone and ends with such closure, it's hard to imagine what a sequel would be like. This sequel to A Memory Called Empire is different, stranger. I like it a lot, but it is also not what I expected.

It grows a few more points of view, over the original's singular voice from Mahit. It's also a first contact military sf story in space as opposed to the first book's city-centered succession politics and poetry. It's a story about not being able to truly go home again after travelling, about disobeying orders that don't sit well in your heart, about the psychology of different kinds of consciousnesses (in some ways similar to the Ancillary series), and about what peace means to individuals and empires.

One thing I enjoy is that the book gets into the friction between Mahit and Three Seagrass. The first book is a whirlwind week of adventure, and ends with a smooch between them during a momentary pause before the climax of the book. There's no time for conversation or for feelings or for anything other than an emotional moment of connection. This book gives them more space and time, where feelings that were smothered in the first book about the complications of perception rear their head and have to be processed. This also makes it feel much different than the first book, where everybody, and especially Three Seagrass, feel more "on side", even when relationships and goals are complicated.

I don't think either of these books are creating larger worldbuilding that would extend out to a longer series. However, I do think they each are remarkably thematically tight books and both worth reading.

This book follows Mahit, sent as ambassador from the small space station Lsel to a large empire, in order to investigate what happened to her predecessor and to try to prevent the Teixcalaanli Empire from inevitably absorbing that home station.

As you might expect, it's a story about empires (being terrible), but what I like about this book is that it gets at reasons why empires can be dangerously appealing apart from just raw power. Mahit simultaneously wants to protect her homeland but also wishes to be part of larger Teixcalaanli culture that is eating her own. But also, no matter how much poetry she's memorized, she will never truly be a part of this culture.

The reader quickly learns that Lsel secretly has machines that implant the memories of their predecessors, and has sent Mahit off with one of these devices. The extra internal perspective of Yskander commenting or just providing emotional memory on Mahit's experiences adds a fun additional layer to all of the events.

I love the politics; I love the writing; I love the characters. Highly recommended.

This novel is always such a delight to get back to on a reread of the series. My love for ART also carries a lot of my feelings too.

I wasn't sure how Murderbot was going to stand up to the longer length the first time I read this, but I like that there's more space for side stories to develop; in particular, we get to see flashbacks to Murderbot and Amena back on Preservation, we get to see Arada grow as a leader, and we get to see Murderbot 2.0.

This novel also reprises previous parts of the series in a really satisfying way. Even more ART (and more ART snark). We get more about Mensah handling trauma. Murderbot 2.0 is an explicit parallel to Miki's death. The ending of this novel escalates the end of Exit Strategy where Murderbot doesn't know how to feel about everybody feeling protective about it or wanting to save it.

It's all just so good.

I don’t hate you. I hate that I don’t have better answers to all that’s wrong in my city. The only choices shouldn’t be bloody vengeance or doing nothing. I hate that the Codicíans’ ‘gift’ of empire is generations of trauma.

Overall, I think I'm a bit mixed on this book. I was most intrigued in the messy middle, where all of the characters are caught between competing and interesting tensions. It felt impossible for any character to do right by another while being caught in such structural traps. The focus of the book also (surprisingly?) felt firmly on these relationships between people who care about each other, and the messed up ways that colonialism warps their love.

I also quite enjoyed a character whose magic is tied to her emotions, and so she quite literally has to repress her anger and sadness in order to survive and hide.

It's also certainly a rare book where the straight relationship felt more interesting than the queer one, but maybe I just don't have much patience for religious "I can save her!!!" self-hatred stories.

#SFFBookClub

This isn't a bad Murderbot novella, but it doesn't really move enough forward enough for me to appreciate it as anything more than an action/detective side event in between the much more emotionally impactful Exit Strategy and Network Condition. I think my favorite parts of this book are Murderbot snarkily interacting with Indah and station security, where it's trying to one up them but also do its job and also (mostly) obey the rules that they've given to it.

This novella does get some more into Mensah's trauma (and avoidance) but I'm not sure this story is doing extra on top of what Home or Network Condition is doing, and her trauma is not the thematic focus of this novella either. (Although what that focus is, I'm not sure I could really pin down. Maybe that's part of the problem.)

If Murderbot was going to stick around in Preservation space and Indah was going to become a recurring character, or we were going to have ongoing themes of Murderbot trying/failing to fit into Preservation systems and culture, then maybe this could have felt more impactful in retrospect.

I have a spoiler-y offhand comment, so I'll post that separately.

This is a short story that can be read online. The most notable part about this for me is that it was the first story not from Murderbot's point of view, but from Mensah's instead.

This viewpoint shift works for me because Mensah's trauma around being abducted on TranRollinHyfa comes through much more clearly in her own voice. It functions similarly to Rapport in that getting to see the other side of a relationship strengthens your understanding of both sides.

Her feed notifies her of a message packet, addressed to her and Bharadwaj. It’s a link to some sort of catalog weapons supply service. Ayda sighs, mostly amused. “It’s listening to us right now.” It must be hard to respect other people’s privacy when you’ve had to fight and scheme for every minute of your own. Hard not to be paranoid when you remember all the times your paranoia was justified.

But I also quite enjoy seeing how (and why) Murderbot is always compulsively invading everybody's privacy. Mensah clearly understands and (mostly) feels cared for by it. And also it's awkward and invasive too, and I don't think that we'd be able to get all of that without being in Mensah's head.

Maybe that was why I had been nervous about meeting Mensah again, and not all the other dumb reasons I had come up with. I hadn’t been afraid that she wasn’t my friend, I had been afraid that she was, and what it did to me.

The band is back together. I really like the way this fourth novella comes back around back to the Preservation Alliance folks that the books started with. It's fun to see Murderbot with the same people and in a similar protection role, but having a lot more agency.

Pin-Lee groaned and rubbed her face. "I'm almost glad you're here."

This is minor, but Pin-Lee also has some amazing moments here and finally gets to pull out her scary lawyering. I love the combination of how both angry at and yet how also protective of Murderbot she is.

This is the Murderbot novella that feels the most forgettable to me. It's not bad, but partially it's that it has the most action in it, which is fine and good but isn't really what I'm here for. I do like that it establishes that there are still dangers out there for Murderbot, even as it is wildly competent in its own domain.

When I’d called it a pet robot, I honestly thought I was exaggerating. This was going to be even more annoying than I had anticipated, and I had anticipated a pretty high level of annoyance, maybe as high as 85 percent. Now I was looking at 90 percent, possibly 95 percent.

The best part of this book is Miki, the human-form bot that Murderbot can't help but be irritated by. Miki ends up being a great foil, especially around Murderbot's feelings of not-jealousy about Miki's relationship with its human Don Abene.

This short story in the Murderbot universe was released recently, and can be read online on Reactor. Delightfully, it's from Perihelion's point of view after its encounter with Murderbot in Artificial Condition.

I'm not sure that the bones of a story about sneaking into a corporate rim structure had quite enough going on for me, but the underlying delight of this story for me is getting to hear just how affected ART was by its encounter and connection with Murderbot. I think there's just such a power differential between ART and Murderbot, that I'm not sure I ever would have expected it to be so affected if you had made me guess. Getting to hear these feelings (and hear them avoided) from Perihelion's point of view is quite good.

Also, Martha Wells is here making extra sure that you know explicitly that Murderbot is a story about trauma through and through. This is maybe a snarky aside from me, but given that this story was released at the same time as the end of the first season of the television show, I wonder how much of this is a deliberate poke or a reminder to new audiences. I'm still working through the first season but this critical element seems quite sidelined.

This is my favorite Murderbot novella. What stands out the most to me is the prickly but endearing not-friendship between ART and Murderbot. I also love seeing Murderbot taking on its first clients (by choice) and feeling just as invested in doing a good job in protecting them. My delight in this book is probably why I also like the novel Network Effect so much, as it feels like a thematic expansion of all the best bits of this book (plus ART).

I think it's also easy to read this book as such a queer and trans story (only metaphorically, as it would be horrified at this comparison). It really gets into how fraught physical change for the purpose of passing is; it's something that Murderbot feels it needs to do for safety as rogue SecUnit, even as it feels emotionally unsafe to do. And also it's Murderbot having to navigate this change with the (extremely pushy but supportive) help of ART.

This book also gets into some of Murderbot's traumatic history in its investigation of Ganaka Pit. On a reread, I think I was surprised at how little reaction this gets from Murderbot in the moment once it has unraveled a core mystery of its past. But, at the same time, trauma is unevenly distributed, Murderbot is not the best at feelings, and it certainly catches up later in conversation with ART and Tapan.

I've been watching the recent tv show and thought I'd give the books a reread so I could ground myself in the text again. Also brains have been bad, and Murderbot is such short grippy comfort fiction. I think what makes me come back to this (personally) is my empathy for Murderbot's exhaustion and horror around being asked to be a person.

Murderbot also epitomizes the mortifying ordeal of being known (but simultaneously the even more mortifying ordeal of being loved). There's so much joy for me in the grumpiness of the internal monologue. If I had to come up with a one sentence emotional arc for each book, this one would be Murderbot moving past apathy and learning that it does in fact want to protect (some) humans.

Confession time: I don’t actually know where we are

On a reread, I had also forgotten the level of indifference that Murderbot has, in terms of not even knowing what planet they're on. It's an aspect that comes through so much stronger in the original text.

I didn't realize this (very) short Murderbot story existed until very recently. It's a prequel to All Systems Red and can be read online in WIRED. It reads a bit like a microcosm of the entire series, a journey from apathy to protecting humans to musing about being protected itself, but in 1000 words rather than a handful of novellas and a novel.

It’s not like I haven’t thought about killing the humans since I hacked my governor module. But then I started exploring the company servers and discovered hundreds of hours of downloadable entertainment media, and I figured, what’s the hurry? I can always kill the humans after the next series ends.

I don't want to talk about the tv show too much, but it's hard not to think about what the books are doing differently. It's really interesting to me how much the opening line of this prequel story but also the opening line of All Systems Red both having Murderbot ostensibly considering killing people. Honestly, this particular feeling lines up more closely with the opening of the first tv episode than I was willing to give it credit for at the time.

I wonder sometimes if too high expectations make me more likely to be disappointed in a book. I feel like the Mossa and Pleiti series should be my jam: it's lesbian scifi detective fiction set on an Oxford-esque Jupiter space habitats. This one was pretty good, but the first book is still my favorite.

The details of the mystery in this book are the most solid of the trilogy, and (in some ways) I like Pleiti getting a chance to try to do some investigating on her own. Unfortunately, the romance angle suffers from acute "please just talk to each other" syndrome where they each worry on their own about what the other is thinking and feeling.

This is also maybe a minor and petty opinion, but it felt like this book over-did loan words from other languages; arguably, in universe this could be part of the academic study of past earth so I can give it a little bit of a pass. However, it feels like a :chart_with_upwards_trend: from the first book which had none (to my poor memory), to the second book with a few, and this third book where it was so frequent as to almost become jarring. I could believe in the adoption of words like chisme or pues or klopt, but ... chiacchierare? chismoseando?