A review by samdcote
Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie
adventurous
emotional
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
Ancillary Justice is the first Sci-fi book I've read in a while-- I've slowed down reading recently, and am looking to pick my pace back up. This book wasn't a great choice for kicking into high gear (it took me about a month at my current pace), but it definitely got me excited to get rolling again.
The POV was fascinating to me. Reading from the perspective of a protagonist with multiple bodies was incredible, and Leckie made the experience feel uncannily seamless. I'd gotten a taste of that in The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells-- there are a couple moments where characters are able to inhabit hardware other than their own. It's really easy to draw connections between those two series because there is so much overlap in their premises; we follow an AI protagonist with some human attributes and some superhuman technological attributes. I was drawn to this series for that reason-- chasing the high I got from Murderbot. And it 100% delivered on that-- and branched out in its own direction with unique worldbuilding and character work.
The linguistics exploration and its gender implicaitons were delightful to read. One Esk, speaking primarily Radchaai, only refers to others by she/her/hers pronouns. The only time she strays from this this is when she's speaking a language that requires other pronouns, and relies on visual/cultural markers to determine a person's gender (much like our own). One Esk frequently messes up in these scenarios, and (much to onlookers' surprise) refers to male characters as "she." We (the audience) would have otherwise had no way of knowing that that character is male, despite spending many chapters with her. Leckie sets the Radch's gender default as feminine, and thereby removes cultural indicators as the primary mode of determining a person's gender. It may be the only book I've read so far where the sexes and genders of almost every character are entirely obsolete.
Being agender, this is such a cool thing to see represented so clearly-- a society in which gender is less than unimportant. In some ways, this feels like a response to Ursula K. Le Guin's use of the gender neutral "he" in The Left Hand of Darkness. She also portrays a totally androgynous society-- the main difference being, she details the physical aspects of that society (describing the Gethenian sexual cycle, the roles of participants, the hormonal and anatomical changes that result, etc.). In Leckie's universe, these matters are left ambiguous by language choices that purposely don't specify anything in these matters. In Le Guin's story world, all the Gethenians are uniform in their androgyneity, and in Leckie's story world, gender identity and expression is extremely relevant to the audience while being more or less irrelevant to the characters (except in a few notable cases). Two ways to skin the same cat, and they're both equally interesting and engaging to me.
Leckie suffers from a tendancy to info-dump. This isn't super off-putting to me, but I know this is something that turns many people away from SFF. There were a few times near the beginning that felt really world-building heavy. IMO, the best worldbuilding techniques are integrated into the narrative. This isn't a fatal flaw, but its definitely a stylistic choice that didn't work super well for me.
The way the relationship between Seivarden and Breq is portrayed is really effective. The relationship develops in a way that feels realistic and earned. It's given the proper run-time to form naturally and substantially.
Overall, I enjoyed this book. It's not my favorite SF of all time-- that said, its a really solid story, and I'm looking forward to continuing the series!
The POV was fascinating to me. Reading from the perspective of a protagonist with multiple bodies was incredible, and Leckie made the experience feel uncannily seamless. I'd gotten a taste of that in The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells-- there are a couple moments where characters are able to inhabit hardware other than their own. It's really easy to draw connections between those two series because there is so much overlap in their premises; we follow an AI protagonist with some human attributes and some superhuman technological attributes. I was drawn to this series for that reason-- chasing the high I got from Murderbot. And it 100% delivered on that-- and branched out in its own direction with unique worldbuilding and character work.
The linguistics exploration and its gender implicaitons were delightful to read. One Esk, speaking primarily Radchaai, only refers to others by she/her/hers pronouns. The only time she strays from this this is when she's speaking a language that requires other pronouns, and relies on visual/cultural markers to determine a person's gender (much like our own). One Esk frequently messes up in these scenarios, and (much to onlookers' surprise) refers to male characters as "she." We (the audience) would have otherwise had no way of knowing that that character is male, despite spending many chapters with her. Leckie sets the Radch's gender default as feminine, and thereby removes cultural indicators as the primary mode of determining a person's gender. It may be the only book I've read so far where the sexes and genders of almost every character are entirely obsolete.
Being agender, this is such a cool thing to see represented so clearly-- a society in which gender is less than unimportant. In some ways, this feels like a response to Ursula K. Le Guin's use of the gender neutral "he" in The Left Hand of Darkness. She also portrays a totally androgynous society-- the main difference being, she details the physical aspects of that society (describing the Gethenian sexual cycle, the roles of participants, the hormonal and anatomical changes that result, etc.). In Leckie's universe, these matters are left ambiguous by language choices that purposely don't specify anything in these matters. In Le Guin's story world, all the Gethenians are uniform in their androgyneity, and in Leckie's story world, gender identity and expression is extremely relevant to the audience while being more or less irrelevant to the characters (except in a few notable cases). Two ways to skin the same cat, and they're both equally interesting and engaging to me.
Leckie suffers from a tendancy to info-dump. This isn't super off-putting to me, but I know this is something that turns many people away from SFF. There were a few times near the beginning that felt really world-building heavy. IMO, the best worldbuilding techniques are integrated into the narrative. This isn't a fatal flaw, but its definitely a stylistic choice that didn't work super well for me.
The way the relationship between Seivarden and Breq is portrayed is really effective. The relationship develops in a way that feels realistic and earned. It's given the proper run-time to form naturally and substantially.
Overall, I enjoyed this book. It's not my favorite SF of all time-- that said, its a really solid story, and I'm looking forward to continuing the series!