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A review by one_womanarmy
The Mercy of Gods by James S.A. Corey
adventurous
challenging
dark
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
The Mercy of Gods is a modern spin on the classic invasion tale popular in the early 80s. The humans on the planet Anjiin are the latest victims to fall under the eye of the hegemonic hivemind empire of the Carryx, whose ontological maxim "What is, is" provides a literary echo of the self-referencing conservative dialogue on the rise in the U.S., Europe, and South America, leading it to parallel modern questions of whether biology and might can, or will, trump equality, justice, and creative diversity on a grand, interstellar scale.
Having previously enjoyed author James A. Corey's coextensive cultural-to-personal literary style, I had high hopes that were delivered for Gods. Our protagonists - a group of elite bioscientists and astrophysicists play out the universal pendulum swing from biological imperative to quiet triumph in polyamorous entanglements, self-referencing questions of what the "self" really is as it pertains to physiological colonialism, sociological adaptation, and the ever-present analogy between deep-space colonialism and interpersonal epigenetics. While The Expanse had a blockbuster action-flick nature to its fast-paced high-octane writing and push-forward plot pacing, Gods opts for a much slower burn, focusing on setting up the world, with minimal plot beats, and focusing much of its time creating more emotional heft than bombastic action sequences.
As the story unfolds, Gods challenges us to peer past the main story line and observe that while conquering tyrants may assume their position of control is confirmed through explicit displays of power and control, there is an equal force from the quiet, observing, and socially-constructing among us. They lie in wait with just as powerful a force on the dynamics of those same cultures, communities, and people.
The Mercy of Gods has a unique spin on the classic invasion trope because though the Carryx are shown to be vastly superior to humankind and the other species they have captured, they treat their enslaved races with a kind of mundane indifference, painting the setting with dread very few stories of this kind capture well. In this regard, Gods is a world-building-driven story rather than a character-driven or plot-driven narrative.
After a slow and somewhat nostaligic take-off rift with the petty inner working of academia and upper class politicking, the reader is blasted off along side the postcolonial population who survive the initial invasion. The Mercy of Gods is firmly medium-length for contemporary SFF, but it lingers longer than one might expect on life before the arrival of the Carryx, introducing the main cast and diving into the fraught academic politics that aren’t entirely put to the side when the aliens arrive. This opening segment is well-written, but it does demand some patience from the reader, as the shape of the central conflict doesn’t begin to come clear until well into the story. Personally, I enjoy this long-arc story building reminiscent of Dune, Hyperion, and Memory Called Empire.
Having previously enjoyed author James A. Corey's coextensive cultural-to-personal literary style, I had high hopes that were delivered for Gods. Our protagonists - a group of elite bioscientists and astrophysicists play out the universal pendulum swing from biological imperative to quiet triumph in polyamorous entanglements, self-referencing questions of what the "self" really is as it pertains to physiological colonialism, sociological adaptation, and the ever-present analogy between deep-space colonialism and interpersonal epigenetics. While The Expanse had a blockbuster action-flick nature to its fast-paced high-octane writing and push-forward plot pacing, Gods opts for a much slower burn, focusing on setting up the world, with minimal plot beats, and focusing much of its time creating more emotional heft than bombastic action sequences.
As the story unfolds, Gods challenges us to peer past the main story line and observe that while conquering tyrants may assume their position of control is confirmed through explicit displays of power and control, there is an equal force from the quiet, observing, and socially-constructing among us. They lie in wait with just as powerful a force on the dynamics of those same cultures, communities, and people.
The Mercy of Gods has a unique spin on the classic invasion trope because though the Carryx are shown to be vastly superior to humankind and the other species they have captured, they treat their enslaved races with a kind of mundane indifference, painting the setting with dread very few stories of this kind capture well. In this regard, Gods is a world-building-driven story rather than a character-driven or plot-driven narrative.
After a slow and somewhat nostaligic take-off rift with the petty inner working of academia and upper class politicking, the reader is blasted off along side the postcolonial population who survive the initial invasion. The Mercy of Gods is firmly medium-length for contemporary SFF, but it lingers longer than one might expect on life before the arrival of the Carryx, introducing the main cast and diving into the fraught academic politics that aren’t entirely put to the side when the aliens arrive. This opening segment is well-written, but it does demand some patience from the reader, as the shape of the central conflict doesn’t begin to come clear until well into the story. Personally, I enjoy this long-arc story building reminiscent of Dune, Hyperion, and Memory Called Empire.
When that conflict does come clear, it’s a book that’s hard to put down—one that tells an engrossing story in the short term while putting the pieces in place for the larger series. Dafyd Alkhor, quiet nepotistic research assistant, Tonner Freis, emotionally immature and scientifically brilliant team lead, love-triangle foil Else Yannin, and Jessyn Kaul, bipolar and chronically depressed researcher, form a compact with others who dramatize and love together as they are tasked with becoming "useful" to their enslavers, the Carryx. As the main characters are absorbed into the alien empire, after an eighth of the Anjiin population is wiped out merely as a show of dominance of the Carryx, snd surviving means rising to enormous professional challenges while dealing both with various psychological distresses and with other competitors trying just as strenuously to prove themselves. The long, slow start paid dividends for me, as I could see how small power struggles mirror the grand actors and patterns of empires, cultures, and history.
The story does well developing a genuinely strange alien perspective. I wouldn’t call it unfathomable from a human perspective—in fact, I couldn’t help but find the Carryx deeply Nietzschean—but it’s both cohesive enough that it feels like a plausible way of living and unusual enough that the human characters struggle immensely to piece it together. And so the Carryx provide depth to the worldbuilding while also setting up plenty of plot-related excitement.
I am excited to see where this series takes us. Downsides to the narration include token politicizing of women's bodies in a way men are not asked to bear. Else and Jessyn are consistently shown to be grappling with what is happening inside of their bodies, while male Dafyd and Tonner deal with issues of intellect, social capacity, and science. On paper, all characters deal with important issues, but it was a disappointing choice to so clearly gender these experiences.
The story does well developing a genuinely strange alien perspective. I wouldn’t call it unfathomable from a human perspective—in fact, I couldn’t help but find the Carryx deeply Nietzschean—but it’s both cohesive enough that it feels like a plausible way of living and unusual enough that the human characters struggle immensely to piece it together. And so the Carryx provide depth to the worldbuilding while also setting up plenty of plot-related excitement.
I am excited to see where this series takes us. Downsides to the narration include token politicizing of women's bodies in a way men are not asked to bear. Else and Jessyn are consistently shown to be grappling with what is happening inside of their bodies, while male Dafyd and Tonner deal with issues of intellect, social capacity, and science. On paper, all characters deal with important issues, but it was a disappointing choice to so clearly gender these experiences.