Countless generations ago, the world ended, destroyed by the fury of Father Earth. The years since have been swept by Seasons of plague and famine
and earthquakes and worse, yet through it all, somehow, humans have endured, passing down stonelore and rebuilding comms on the bones of dead
civilizations and developing sensory organs to "sess" coming tremors. Some, known as orogenes, even possess the power to calm and shape the unstable
earth of the Stillness, the last remaining large land mass of the broken world.
This Season will be different. This time, Father Earth and his "stone-eater" children of living rock will destroy the hated humans utterly. And he
will have help...
Essun's shale-plain life in a shale-plain comm shatters when she comes home to find her youngest child dead on the floor, killed by her husband Jiju.
The boy's hidden orogene powers must have revealed themselves in the last quake... and now Jiju has taken her daughter away. She will hunt the man to
the ends of the Stillness and beyond if she must to save the girl, and reveal gifts she has kept hidden for years.
Young Damaya's parents shut her away in the barn like an animal when she displayed orogeny; "roggas" are feared and loathed, able to destroy with a
thought if their powers run wild. Now a Guardian comes to take her to the Fulcrum, where her kind are trained to serve, not harm... and where they are
kept always in their place, exterminated if they step out of line.
Syenite thought she might have been on the way to greater things at the Fulcrum when she's assigned to accompany (and breed with) Alabaster, perhaps
the most powerful orogene yet trained. But traveling with him forces her to see the darkness beneath the surface of the Fulcrum, the Sanzed empire,
and their cracked and angered world. Once seen, she find she can no longer ignore it - but can she hope to do anything to stop it?
Review
Jemisin presents one of the most unique and terrible worlds I've read in ages in this much-lauded book. She even manages to pull off a second-person
point of view, for reasons that become clear toward the end. Unfortunately, it took me over half the book to begin to care about anyone; not only is it
a somewhat slow-burn start (things happen, but caring about why takes quite some time), but the Stillness is so harsh it produces only harsh people who
build harsh communities, making the characters difficult to connect with. Until then, my interest in the Stillness kept me reading. Jemisin creates a
diverse post-apocalyptic world (or post-post-apocalyptic; the planet has been devastated by innumerable apocalypses by the time the story starts),
without the tendency to monolithic cultures that some writers fall back on out of tradition, woven with a deep history (that, naturally, tends to be
skewed to always favor those in power and the current Way Of Doing Things.) The closest to an unbiased record of the past is the "stonelore,"
instructions and records passed down since the first cataclysm, though over the years even those have been lost or misinterpreted or deliberately
concealed or destroyed. Orogeny melds geology and science and magic in a unique blend that feels more like science fiction than traditional magic; that
and the development of "sessapinnae" organs - an extra sense possessed by everyone, even "stills" (the majority, who lack orogenic gifts) - is why I
split the genre. By the end, the three threads have come together, setting up the next volume, in what feels less like a conclusion to a book than a
pause in a longer arc. Will I read on? For all that I found the writing great and the world interesting, I'm still on the fence about that, especially
if it entails saving a civilization that, frankly, deserves a good extermination.
An explorer from a rigidly-controlled colony world braves light-years of space and returns to the ecologically devastated birthplace of
the human species in search of needed biological material. Success will bring the reward of skin and other luxuries deprived of all but the
most worthy of the technocrati, descendants of the wise Founders who ensured humanity's survival by fleeing to the stars. But the planet
once known as Earth is no wasteland. How is it possible that anything survived? What happened in the intervening centuries? And what does
that mean about the space colonies?
Review
This is a quick-reading story that turns old tropes about progress and the space race being the salvation of a dying Earth on their ear.
The narrator is an AI implant in the mind of the never-named explorer, trying with increasing desperation to keep its mission on track in
the face of dangerous distractions like "nature", "beauty", and "humanity." It's intriguing, thought-provoking, and hopeful in a world where
"hope" may be the ultimate endangered species.
It was an ordinary day when New York City awoke. As the newborn city's living avatar, a homeless graffiti artist barely has a chance to come
to grips with what's happening before the Enemy - a malevolent entity from beyond our own universe - attacks. He fends it off, but it is not a
clean victory. The entity that calls itself the Woman in White gains a foothold, an infection point that could kill not only New York City but
the whole world. If the city is going to survive, he's going to need help. Fortunately, he's not alone.
"Manny" was stepping off a subway on his way to a new apartment and a new life when he realizes he has no memory of his name, or anything before
coming to New York City. What he feels is an inexplicable bond with Manhattan's skyscrapers and streets... and what he sees is an impossible
enemy spreading pale tendrils everywhere it goes.
Brooklyn Thomason used to be the rap queen MC Free, but she gave that life up to raise a daughter and run for office. Now the rhythms of the
street are calling her again, only this time she's not squaring off against rivals on stage or throngs of fans, but something much more
dangerous.
Bronca's Native American Lenape ancestors have been here since long before there was a city, yet there are still those who insist she's the one
who doesn't belong here: she's not white enough, not straight enough, not this or that or the other enough. When the aging artist feels the call
of the Bronx borough, she wants to refuse - she has more than enough on her plate, trying to keep a struggling artist co-op from insolvency and
fending off strangely coordinated internet attacks - but some destinies cannot be ignored.
A young immigrant and math genius, Padmini feels the weight of her family's expectations as she pushes herself through college and a degree she
doesn't want, but which is more likely to land her a permanent residence in America than what she prefers. When a strange attack nearly kills the
neighbor children, she learns that New York City has claimed her as its own, as the avatar of Queens. But she's not even a citizen, and the only
thing she's good at fighting is a stubborn equation.
And on Staten Island, sheltered Aislyn has hardly ever left her home. Her cop father assures her there's nothing but crime and filthy dark people
and perverts running rampant through the rest of the city; best to stay where things are nice and safe (and white), even if it means giving up
whatever nebulous dreams she may have had. When New York City calls her - calls her to protect a city she both longs for and fears - how will she
answer?
Review
As concepts go, this is a surreal one, but brilliantly executed. Cities are, by their very nature, forces of destruction with a heavy
footprint, but they are also living things (literally, here), an ecosystem unto themselves. They can also, figuratively and literally, be killed.
Other cities have faced the threats New York City is and survived - they have their own living avatars, a few of whom step in to help (or attempt
to help) - but others have failed... and attacks seem to be ramping up, though none of the other cities seem to know why.
As avatars, each character embodies both the good and the bad of their respective boroughs, a microcosm not only of the city but the country itself
- and, like city and country, they face a grave and insidious threat to their very existence, one that works from within to corrupt, to amplify
hatreds and crack open divisions, to squelch that which is dynamically alive and replace it with something cold and twisted and utterly dead. They
aren't always likeable, and don't necessarily like each other; friction of race and class and gender and more threatens to destroy the fragile
peace they establish, doing the Enemy's work for it, a hard look at the inherent prejudices and hatreds and just plain grudge matches that threaten
so much of our world today. New York City is a complex place, neither wholly good nor wholly bad, and the avatars embody that as well as
individuals can. All of them have been thrown into something way over their heads and somewhat beyond the human ability to grasp. They reach for
metaphors as they shape impossible forces to their defense, using the very essence of their boroughs and the city itself... but the Woman in White
and the entity "she" represents has its own essence and its own weapons, its own logic and goals, and is not to be underestimated.
It's a bold, strange story, sometimes violent and sometimes painful and often bizarre, but always compelling. This being the first in a trilogy,
the ending is not conclusive, but does include a few twists and brings the story to a resting point between battles. I'm trying to think of a
downside, but even the point of view I least enjoyed was harrowing in the right way (if that makes sense), forcing the reader into a perspective
that's easy to dismiss yet needs to be understood if there's to be any hope for the future (in fiction or otherwise), so I went with a top-notch
rating.
Yeine Darr never expected to set foot in the wondrous capital city of Sky at the heart of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms,
despite her mother having been a daughter of the current Arameri monarch Dekarta. The price of marrying her father, a man
of the jungle woodlands of distant Darr, was to forsake her royal heritage. Only now, after her mother was poisoned (no
doubt by agents of Dekarta), a summons has come from Sky, one that Yeine dare not refuse. After all, the Arameri lineage
traces their near-absolute power to an ancestor who, many centuries ago, bound the very gods themselves to servitude; to
defy a summons would be to risk not only her own life but her nation and everyone she loves.
To the shock of everyone, especially herself, the ailing lord Dekarta declares her an heiress, putting her in contention
for his soon-to-be-vacant crown alongside two cousins she's never met and plunging her into the monstrous world of Arameri
courtiers with no idea whom she can trust or how to survive. Unexpectedly, the captive gods of Sky reach out to Yeine,
offering an alliance and a chance to avenge her mother's murder. But does Yeine dare trust them?
Review
I've enjoyed what I've read of Jemisin's works so far, and the premise of this fantasy trilogy sounded intriguing,
promising a richly multicultural world where humans enslave the very entities that created them. Perhaps it was my own
high expectations that undercut me, because, while I enjoyed The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms well enough, I kept
expecting something a little more out of it than it ultimately delivered.
While the premise is familiar enough from other fantasy tales, the setting Jemisin presents has some nice trappings and
twists. The main gimmick, such as it is, is the enslaved deities and the human scriveners who have learned to harness
the power of the divine written language to work near-miraculous magicks. Power tending to corrupt, the sprawling
Arameri clan has by now been quite nearly corrupted absolutely; the city of Sky, literally stretching upward towards
the heavens and casting the surrounding city into shadow, fairly seethes with hedonism, cruelty, and backstabbing as a
way of life. Since none without Arameri blood are safe in Sky after nightfall (for reasons related to the captive
deities), even the lowest of servants are relatives of the highest power brokers in the realm, so even family ties are
not enough to spare a body from ill treatment. Simply getting on a rival noble's bad side is enough to condemn distant
lands and hundreds or thousands of innocent civilians to enslavement or death in conflicts that mean little more than
the shifting of game tokens on a board to the people of Sky. Everyone has an agenda, even the gods in their chains,
though Yeine is no different in her way when she arrives; though she knew she couldn't resist a royal summons if she
tried, she is determined to see whoever ordered the death of her mother pay in kind before she herself is killed (as
seems inevitable) in the scramble for a throne she does not even want. But even she, an outsider to Sky, knows better
than to blindly accept the word of a god at face value. She makes some missteps and mistakes as she struggles to sort
friend from foe (or rather, casual foe from actively-trying-to-kill-her foe, as actual friends are not really a thing
in the toxic atmosphere of Sky). She also tries to understand her late mother and why the woman ran away to live in
the wilds of Darr, finding a truth far more complicated than she was prepared to face... not unlike the real reason
she was brought all the way back to the capital after a lifetime in the hinterlands and obscurity, a reason that
puts a hard deadline on her own agenda (and lifespan).
As Yeine struggles to stay afloat in the perpetual storm of Sky life, she also finds herself pulled into the lives
and complex relationships of the gods, most particularly the dangerously mercurial (and alluring) Nahadoth, god of
night and chaos, and Sieh, trickster deity with a childish aspect. Nahadoth is most often bound (literally, leashed)
by Scimina, sadistic heiress and rival to replace Dekarta, but from the start Yeine finds herself drawn to him
despite the dangers; even the gods cannot always control their powers among mortals. Sieh brings out a maternal,
protective side in Yeine... part of a trend that started subtle but grew more prominent and irritating as the tale
wound on. For all her determination to be her own master and pursue vengeance above all else, and despite being
raised in a matrilinear nation where women command and fight while men are protectors of hearth and home, Yeine too
often ends up being the motherly nurturer charged with soothing tears and healing broken people, particularly
males, and things that said broken people destroyed. To really get into this would be to court spoilers, but it
nearly dropped the story another half-star in the ratings by the end. There was also some confusion and "name
soup" in the many servants, rivals, gods, relatives, and other terms I was meant to keep straight, not all of
which ended up pulling enough weight by the end. The forbidden passion between Nahadoth and Yeine also had some
dark undercurrents (likely intentional, but leaned into a little hard for my tastes). The ending was ultimately
reasonably satisfying, but I can't say I'm that invested in the world to continue with the rest of the series,
possibly in part because the people of Sky were too unpleasant for me to want to linger in their realm.
Rivers take human form to escape captivity... a young woman discovers a dark family secret in the worst possible way... a robot on a
galactic spaceship is forced into an impossible choice by a stowaway... These and more stories are collected in this volume, edited by
author N. K. Jemisin.
Review
Yes, it's a few years old (this review being written in November 2022), but I keep meaning to read more short stories, and this book
was free to me. (I also, as I've noted in previous reviews, have somewhat iffy luck with anthologies, but I like what I've read of
Jemisin's work and decided to trust her judgement... and, again, free to me.) As with the majority of anthologies and collections I've
read, the results are a bit of a mixed bag. A few I thoroughly enjoyed, some others were decent explorations of their concepts (if not
quite my cup of cocoa), a few more I just could not connect with, and one I admittedly had to resort to skimming to get through. More
than one of these seemed a bit long, not just for the anthology but for the stories they were telling. Many of the tales reflect the
year in which they were written, the tumultuous gut-punch fallout of events in 2016 that continue to resonate unpleasantly through the
nation and greater world; not surprisingly, the overall tone of the anthology leans dark and bleak and more than a little angry. At the
end, information about the authors is presented, along with statements about the tales included, their inspirations and influences. I
wish the stories had been more clearly connected, or at least the author notes had been presented in the same order as the stories
appeared instead of just alphabetically; by the time I reached the afterword, I had to flip back and forth to even try matching up who
had written what. This extra behind-the-scenes discussion helped lift the volume to a solid four stars. Overall, it's a decent assortment
of tales reflecting the modern state of the genre.
