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A review by thaurisil
Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card
5.0
I first read this as a teenager. It’s nice to know that, after 13 years, and after having been disappointed by Ender’s Game when I reread it a few weeks ago, my judgment of Speaker for the Dead remains the same. It’s a magnificent book, and although I had forgotten the content of the book over the years, the deep, soul-touching emotions stayed with me.
It is 3000 years after the events in Ender’s Game. Thanks to time and space travel, Ender is 35 years old. The name of Ender is vilified as the Xenocide, while the Speaker for the Dead is a hero who started a new religion. Nobody except Ender and Valentine know that Andrew Wiggin is both persons. Ender travels to the planet Lusitania to discover why the pequeninos, or piggies, have killed the xenologer Pipo, who had been studying them. On arriving, he finds that the piggies killed Pipo’s son Libo as well, and discovers the broken family of Novinha and her six children, whose abusive father has recently died from a congenital disease. With his insight and talent in understanding human behaviour, Ender uncovers secrets, reveals truths, discovers the reason why the piggies killed two men whom they honoured, and creates a covenant with them to start a new form of inter-species living.
This book is heavy in emotions. One of the reasons why I didn’t like Ender’s Game was that it has little feeling. Speaker for the Dead makes up for this, and more. At the start, when Pipo teaches Libo the art of noncommunication, which involves not revealing information or emotions, to the piggies, their calmness contrasts with the intense hope, joy, sorrow and love they share. When Ender, with his guilt, loneliness, and love for others arrives, he induces a whole spectrum of emotions in the people he interacts with – fear, anger, hope, joy, sorrow, guilt, pain. He makes himself vulnerable, and in turn, people become vulnerable in his presence. Through this vulnerability, bonds are created, information is shared, and truth is revealed.
Truth is a major theme. Novinha carries terrible secrets – her children are actually Libo’s, but though they loved each other, she could not marry him as he would then have the right to discover the information that led to Pipo’s death. The piggies and the xenologers interact with each other daily, yet they hardly understand each other’s cultures of even life cycles. In contrast, we have Jane, the hive queen, and Rooter’s tree, three non-human beings who know many truths and are, as a result, wise. And there is Ender. He uncovers truths and reveals them. The revealing causes pain, but his compassion brings about healing. When Novinha’s secrets are revealed, the barriers between her and her children are broken down and the family learns to trust and love one another. The challenge for us is to embrace truth and love in equal measures, as Ender does.
One of the lessons from this book is that it is possible to live with and love another species, if you first understand their motives. And to understand their motives, you have to first love them. Ender applies this to the piggies, but he also applies it to Novinha and her children. We can apply it to other nations, races and religions, and even other individuals. As Ender says, “No human being, when you understand his desires, is worthless. No one's life is nothing. Even the most evil of men and women, if you understand their hearts, had some generous act that redeems them, at least a little, from their sins.” And this one generous act allows us to love even the most hated of enemies.
In the prologue, Card says that he revised a previous version of the book because a friend commented that he could not tell Novinha’s six children apart. He does a marvellous job with his changes. Each of Novinha’s children, and in fact every character in the book who appears for more than a couple of pages, has a distinct personality. Each of them is different, each is loveable, and each adds flavour to the novel. Even in creating the Bishop of Lusitania, Card creates his counterpart, Dom Cristo, to generate a few sparks and spice. In a book thick with philosophy, the characters give the story life.
The only character I had any issues with was Ender. It’s not that I didn’t like Ender. I liked him, and when he was around, you could count on him to solve problems and resolve tensions. His presence ensured that peace would follow. No, it’s not that I didn’t like him. It’s that I liked him too much. Ender is the perfect hero, wise and understanding and strong and capable, and when you have a hero like that, it’s difficult to feel as much for him as you do for the other characters.
Not that I didn’t shed tears when Ender did. Or when Novinha, or Miro, or Ouanda, or the piggies, did, for that matter. And for the emotional depth of this book, it gets five stars.
It is 3000 years after the events in Ender’s Game. Thanks to time and space travel, Ender is 35 years old. The name of Ender is vilified as the Xenocide, while the Speaker for the Dead is a hero who started a new religion. Nobody except Ender and Valentine know that Andrew Wiggin is both persons. Ender travels to the planet Lusitania to discover why the pequeninos, or piggies, have killed the xenologer Pipo, who had been studying them. On arriving, he finds that the piggies killed Pipo’s son Libo as well, and discovers the broken family of Novinha and her six children, whose abusive father has recently died from a congenital disease. With his insight and talent in understanding human behaviour, Ender uncovers secrets, reveals truths, discovers the reason why the piggies killed two men whom they honoured, and creates a covenant with them to start a new form of inter-species living.
This book is heavy in emotions. One of the reasons why I didn’t like Ender’s Game was that it has little feeling. Speaker for the Dead makes up for this, and more. At the start, when Pipo teaches Libo the art of noncommunication, which involves not revealing information or emotions, to the piggies, their calmness contrasts with the intense hope, joy, sorrow and love they share. When Ender, with his guilt, loneliness, and love for others arrives, he induces a whole spectrum of emotions in the people he interacts with – fear, anger, hope, joy, sorrow, guilt, pain. He makes himself vulnerable, and in turn, people become vulnerable in his presence. Through this vulnerability, bonds are created, information is shared, and truth is revealed.
Truth is a major theme. Novinha carries terrible secrets – her children are actually Libo’s, but though they loved each other, she could not marry him as he would then have the right to discover the information that led to Pipo’s death. The piggies and the xenologers interact with each other daily, yet they hardly understand each other’s cultures of even life cycles. In contrast, we have Jane, the hive queen, and Rooter’s tree, three non-human beings who know many truths and are, as a result, wise. And there is Ender. He uncovers truths and reveals them. The revealing causes pain, but his compassion brings about healing. When Novinha’s secrets are revealed, the barriers between her and her children are broken down and the family learns to trust and love one another. The challenge for us is to embrace truth and love in equal measures, as Ender does.
One of the lessons from this book is that it is possible to live with and love another species, if you first understand their motives. And to understand their motives, you have to first love them. Ender applies this to the piggies, but he also applies it to Novinha and her children. We can apply it to other nations, races and religions, and even other individuals. As Ender says, “No human being, when you understand his desires, is worthless. No one's life is nothing. Even the most evil of men and women, if you understand their hearts, had some generous act that redeems them, at least a little, from their sins.” And this one generous act allows us to love even the most hated of enemies.
In the prologue, Card says that he revised a previous version of the book because a friend commented that he could not tell Novinha’s six children apart. He does a marvellous job with his changes. Each of Novinha’s children, and in fact every character in the book who appears for more than a couple of pages, has a distinct personality. Each of them is different, each is loveable, and each adds flavour to the novel. Even in creating the Bishop of Lusitania, Card creates his counterpart, Dom Cristo, to generate a few sparks and spice. In a book thick with philosophy, the characters give the story life.
The only character I had any issues with was Ender. It’s not that I didn’t like Ender. I liked him, and when he was around, you could count on him to solve problems and resolve tensions. His presence ensured that peace would follow. No, it’s not that I didn’t like him. It’s that I liked him too much. Ender is the perfect hero, wise and understanding and strong and capable, and when you have a hero like that, it’s difficult to feel as much for him as you do for the other characters.
Not that I didn’t shed tears when Ender did. Or when Novinha, or Miro, or Ouanda, or the piggies, did, for that matter. And for the emotional depth of this book, it gets five stars.