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Change or die: the only options available on the Durallium Company-owned planet GP. The planet's deadly virus had killed most of the original colonists-and changed the rest irrevocably. Centuries after the colony had lost touch with the rest of humanity, the Company returned to exploit GP, and its forces found themselves fighting for their lives. Afraid of spreading the virus, the Company had left its remaining employees in place, afraid and isolated from the natives. Then anthropologist Marghe Taishan arrived on GP, sent to test a new vaccine against the virus. As she risked death to uncover the natives' biological secret, she found that she, too, was changing, and realized that not only had she found a home on GP-she herself carried the seeds of its destruction . . .… (more)
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Into this world comes Marghe, an anthropologist who has volunteered to test a vaccine against Jeep's virus. But her efforts to investigate some of the mysteries of Jeep's society goes horribly wrong as she is taken prisoner by the Echraidhe who live in one of the most hostile environments that Jeep has to offer. And back at the Company settlement Commander Danner must deal with her increasing suspicions that the Company's plans for Jeep do not include rescuing their stranded staff.
A fun book this, which deals with the creation of all female societies very well. It lost me a little bit towards the end as it seemed to be getting almost a little mystical at times (I prefer my science-fiction to be sciency), but a good read nonetheless.
But she is also uncovering a lot about herself and her personal demons and fears.
If you like character driven stories then I would highly recommend this book.
It is also brilliantly written, almost straight from the first page I was engrossed and wanted to know more. More about the characters, more about the places, and more about the cultures and societies of Jeep and of the soldiers now trapped there.
I also wish Griffith had written a sequel or some sort of a follow up to this book. It ends with a resolution, but there are also a lot of unanswered questions and details I’d love to find out more about.
But there is lots we do find out about, maybe not the exact details, but the broad strokes. And we certainly learn a lot about the current circumstances on Jeep. The realities of living a life that is not working, how change is utterly necessary, but also feared by many. And with good cause, because change brings about the unknown, and who knows where that will lead.
It is also a book that I think would stand up well to a reread. There is a lot going on in it, and a reread might bring some more details to the fore. But I’ll have to get through Griffith’s other books before going back for a reread, if only I had more time…
Oh wait. Right at the beginning. Virus kills all the men. Wow, that was sooo sneaky. So
It is a good novel about self discovery and identity - finding a home, building a society out of the ruins of the old. I enjoyed it immensely. The novel does lag in some areas, but the pace is exceptional in others.
Its a good story and you feel attached to the characters - just not the groundbreaking feminist discourse I was expecting.
The planet of Jeep is home to a virus that kills all men and a large percentage of women. Centuries later, it has been
There was another plot thread in Ammonite following Hannah Danner, the commander of the Company forces. The Company (no other name given) hopes to colonize Jeep if the vaccination succeeds. However, Danner suspects that they will destroy their base if it doesn’t and abandon their employees on planet.
Initially, it seemed like this potential destruction would be a more driving force. However, the threat’s so vague that the tension eventually peters out. The pacing fell off dramatically by the final third of the book, after Marghe is no longer in a direct survival situation. It then focuses almost entirely on Marghe’s inner life. Unfortunately, I found Marghe really bland. None of the other characters were much better.
I also eventually realized that I’d seen this plot before in science fiction. Have you ever seen James Cameron’s Avatar? It’s usually what I use to describe this type of plotline. Protagonist from culture synonymous to our culture goes to native planet and leaves old life behind to follow native ways. The only big twist here was that the “alien” culture was all female. Ammonite was also very heavy on science fiction mysticism, which I can be ambivalent about. Sometimes it works, sometimes it just feels silly. This wasn’t one of the better usages I’ve seen, although to be honest I’m not sure how else I expected the “only women” aspect to be explained.
Obviously, the big draw of Ammonite is that it’s a feminist science fiction novel taking place on an all female planet. While I’m glad that it didn’t go down the “women are all peaceful nurturers in touch with nature” route, I didn’t find it’s examination of gender to go much beyond “women are people.” Yes, great. But I’m guessing that if you’re the sort of person who wants to read a feminist science fiction novel, you’re probably already on board with that message and are looking for something a bit more complex. To be fair, there were a few instances when Ammonite would mention words like “sailors,” and I would automatically picture men, so perhaps it is more relevant than I’m assuming here. It was written in the 90’s, so I really shouldn’t be expecting it to be up to date with feminism in 2016 (for instance, everyone was cisgender). However, it still ends up feeling dated.
In the end, I found Ammonite most relevant as a piece of genre history. There was some interesting thematic material about the need for change, but I have a hard time connecting to a book based purely on themes. I need some connection to either plot or characters, which I didn’t feel in Ammonite.
Review originally posted The Illustrated Page.
A mysterious virus has eliminated all men from the planet Jeep and Marghe has volunteered to test a vaccine against its effects. As in 'Left Hand of Darkness' a backup starship lurks in orbit, but on Jeep it is a warship waiting to destroy the station if the virus should ever escape the planet. A Company base, Port Central, exists on Jeep. The military women stationed there and the tribes of natives who live further away are incurious about each others' existence at the beginning of the novel. Gradually the Company women make efforts to integrate with the native population.
I had a few problems with some key features of the novel, which I'll try to outline without too many spoilers.
The vaccine
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The virus kills 100% of males and 20% of females. So why is it a legitimate test of the vaccine to send a single female volunteer to the planet's surface? If the Company is as ruthless and mercenary as portrayed, wouldn't it not even blink at sending many volunteers and 'non-volunteers' down, male as well as female? The vaccine -- to a disease which has no known vector -- seems to have been developed by a single researcher on the station above Jeep. I understand that the vaccine ultimately represents a threat to the way of life of the women of Jeep, but it didn't seem to be deployed in any logical or clinical way. The vaccine was therefore a literary McGuffin.
Absence of males
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Yes, I get it, it's an exploration of a world without males, and what sort of societies and cultures might flourish. And for the natives who have lived this way for thousands of years it makes sense that they would not miss or need males in their lives. But the Company troops who had male colleagues who died from the virus never mention or speak to a man in the entire book. The only personal relationships which exist for them are homosexual ones. It doesn't seem quite right to me that one's sexuality is determined by the company one keeps. Griffith's other work 'Slow River' more successfully achieves an absence of males and heterosexual relationships in a more successful way: simply by making the males irrelevant to that story. In Ammonite they are absent but *not* irrelevant, whatever the author's wishes: they are in the rest of the universe, waiting and plotting to get to Jeep.
Pregnancy and reproduction
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This is a spoiler so I'll be cautious. Pregnancy occurs on this world when
The planet, Jeep, had been initially colonized by people from earth, but a deadly virus killed all the men and many of the women. Although no
Griffith is amazingly causal about the fact that the world she has created is totally without men. Women do absolutely everything. Nothing is ever said about allegedly female abilities. Lesbian passion is taken for granted. When Griffith writes about towns, all the people we see are women. The women are varied, physically and emotionally. Some have names that indicate racial diversity, but Griffith never pushes that point. Some individuals and even whole tribes are warped and dangerous. Violence and self-defense are definitely part of life, but they are seldom glorified. Hierarchy exists and tribal warfare takes place, but there is no permanent racial or class oppression. Men are simply not present or even discussed or blamed. If they may run the Company, they are never identified as doing so.
In her afterward, Griffith explains that she wants to show that women really are human.
I am tired of token women being strong in a man’s world by taking on male attributes…I am equally tired of women-only worlds where all the characters are wise, kind, beautiful, stern seven-foot vegetarian amazons who would never dream of killing anyone. I am tired of reading about aliens who are really women and women who are really aliens.
Women are not aliens. Take away men and we do not automatically loss our fire and intelligence and sex drive.
Yet in the end the book is a novel that “shows readers other ways to be…that takes them to other places where the air and temperature and myths are not the same.”
Griffith’s plot centers on change, the personal change Marghe and some of the other women undergo, and massive change being forced on all who live on the planet. In Girffith’s hands, change is not simple, pleasant growth but a frightening and dangerous process of letting loose of the known and moving into the unknown. Tension in the book comes from the need to deal with change. Women gain in self-reliance, but they are never in total control. The Company’s ability to destroy them all is ever-present.
As Marghe travels she is forced into dangerous situations and new understandings of who she is. The ammonite, a small stone image, comes to signify, for her, a new completeness. She had brought her own memories and ghosts to Jeep, but she also brought extensive training in yoga and meditation. Like the women of Jeep she can watch and control her own body processes. It’s not magic, but a level of self-control most of us can barely imagine.
Griffith is an excellent writer. The women in the book are surely drawn, yet flexible and able to develop and change. The scope of her vision makes it easy to accept minor discomforts.
I discovered this book on the list for the Gender in Fantasy and Science Fiction Challenge. It is an exciting book and one that I will be thinking about for a long time. Has Griffith really imagined a world that functions without social categories like gender, race and class? Is change really possible? Can the women survive in the future? Can we survive change?
This book gets my highest recommendation.
There's certainly a place for lesbian wish-fulfillment. It just doesn't make for stellar speculative fiction.
It's a first novel, and it has some of the weaknesses I associate with first novels: it jumps through time a lot, and those jumps aren't always telegraphed adequately; some of the descriptions, while each individually quite beautiful, ended up feeling repetitive when taken
Griffith's style is quietly exquisite, understatedly lyrical (in contrast to Catherynne M. Valente's muscular lyricism or Patricia A. McKillip's ornate lyricism or Peter S. Beagle's cooly intellectual lyricism)(and what is with my favorite authors and all their middle initials?) in ways that seem all the more surprising because this is a science fiction novel rather than a fantasy novel. This is Griffith's description of Marghe's landing on GP:
The doors cracked open and leaked in light like pale grapefruit squeezings, making the artificial illumination in the gig seem suddenly thick and dim.
Jeep light.
Wind swept dark tatters across a sky rippling with cloud like a well-muscled torso, bringing with it the smell of dust and grass and a sweetness she could not identify. . . She sniffed, trying to equate the spicy sweet smell on the wind to something she knew: nutmeg, sun on beetle wings, the wild smell of heather.
Okay, so maybe that passage wasn't so understated. I delight in that sort of passage in fantasy novels, where I expect magic; I delighted in it in Griffith's Slow River, which is SF but in the more "realist" vein, practically Mundane SF. Here, in this near-planetary romance, it took me aback as it should not have, and I am grateful to Griffith for reminding me that there can be so much beauty in the alien.
Part of the reason Jeep is so beautiful (in a stark fashion) is that we see it mostly through Marghe's perspective, and Marghe is a woman deeply attuned to both the world around her and to her own body. She looks outward and inward, and Griffith paints that dual focus with an incredible eye to detail that made the book startlingly visceral. I have been thinking lately about (female) SFF characters' relationships with their bodies, and the way that Marghe is so firmly sited within hers made the beatings, the starvation, and the sex come alive on the page. (Also it really sends the message: Jeep's a tough place!) The way that that character trait completely informs the way Marghe reacts to and advances the plot is just another sign of Griffith's immense skill as a storyteller.
But the thing I am most struck by is how perfectly the jacket description captures this book -- it is a book all about change. It's about characters changing, and it's about societies changing, and it's about the way those changes amplify or counteract each other, and then it's about everything changing again. It's not a book for people who like tight plots where every question raised is answered by the finale -- the finale just raises more questions about the future of the characters and the world. Instead it's a book for people who like history, who like to explore the hidden ways the past shapes the present and who are drawn to those turning points where the smallest decisions by individuals have the power to dramatically alter the fates of whole societies.
Other than that quibble, I love this book. The plot is engaging,
Another thing I enjoy very much is the main character. Although quite a few reviewers said they found it difficult to like or connect with her, I liked her very much. The physicality and sensuality with which she experiences the world, the way she feels the wind and smells the scents and hears the sounds and tastes the salt of the ocean on her lips, that I relate to. The discipline with which she accepts reversals and difficulties, that I aspire to. So I feel at home with her and she's a good guide for me into this strange world.
The world itself is a pretty fascinating place as well and her quest within it is not a quest for a sword or a hidden treasure or a lost princess. Its a quest for the understanding to find her right place and her right work in the world. So just as I feel at home with the character, I feel right on board with her quest as well. Which makes for happy reading for this particular individual.
Still, this is an enjoyable and engaging story, the characters (all female, but not dying out, which I hope makes you curious) are likable, and Griffith does some interesting and subtle things with gender. I hope more readers discover this author's work.
Marghe is not the most open or accessible person, but she is likable nonetheless. Her contacts with the natives are the most interesting and so are her experiences with the virus. Through her eyes, you get to know the world, which is wilder than most of us are used to. For me, it was rather startling sometimes to realize all the characters are women. I like that no fuss is made about women doing jobs that are traditionally reserved for men. Clearly, since there are no men, women are the only ones who can do them. The startling thing was not that it felt strange to have only women around, the startling thing was that I sometimes forgot. I like that the society is not idealized. It has some beautiful aspects, but it is also very practical and it has crime and ugliness like any other. I also like that Marghe comes in contact with the ugliness, but doesn't necessarily change it. Some things are the way they are, as are some people, and change is a difficult thing, and must usually come from the inside. It cannot always be forced.
Although the book has a clear ending, it also leaves room for a follow-up, so I wonder if there's going to be a sequel. If there is, I would definitely read it.
*The main character is a bit too good at everything to be
Into this comes anthropologist Marguerite Tasihen, known as Marghe. She will be testing
Questions remain as to how a planet of women can continue to reproduce? What is their immunity secret?
Marghe attempts to find answers to these questions by heading out alone into the interior where several of her fellow colonists have disappeared. This is the equivalent of the horror film where you yell at the vulnerable young lady not to go outside, alone, in the dark without a torch, while the serial killer is prowling around.
This is well written. The characters are fully developed and the story is told from more than one viewpoint.
There are a few holes in the plot, nothing to ruin the story, just an annoying niggle where you want someone to explain about the …
Marghe's character, as our guide to the world of Jeep, was particularly well-developed. I was intrigued early on by learning of her long practice of meditation and extensive work with biofeedback. These qualities make her very receptive to the unique aspects of Jeep's ecosystem, which helps believability, particularly when it comes to the issue of reproduction. I related well to the searching qualities of Marghe's character and how she grows into herself after coming to Jeep. The environment there is uniquely suited to self-discovery, if the individual is open to it.
Jeep is an interesting world that seems very real. The alien life and weather patterns are truly alien, and Griffith describes the planet's environment in almost sensual terms. While in many ways Jeep seems a paradise, it is not a utopia by any means. Life can be very difficult there, particularly in the frozen northern region. Jeep seems more like a real place than an ideal escape from Earth's gender-based social problems.
With the non-gendered names and large cast, it is easy to forget when reading Ammonite that every character is a woman. That's not to say that some characters are actually men in disguise. I never felt this was true. Instead, Griffith explores the entire range of human behavior in her characters. Some characters are wise mentors. Some are stern leaders who hide their self-doubts. Some are selfish, stubborn, impulsive, or even corrupt. Marghe is particularly traumatized when she is kidnapped by a northern tribe who then treat her more as an animal than a person. Even though these characters all come across as fully human, their social structure has evolved in a radically different way, with what I think may be seen as a more feminine (or more humane) outcome. The characters are more forthright and open with one another, particularly on issues of love and family. Kinship and other relationships are extremely important and are also fluid, not wholly dependent on having a genetic connection. Disputes are arbitrated and resolved mostly without violence. Storytelling and art are valued as true professions worthy of communal support. There is violence, but violence is seen as an aberration and not inevitable. This is a compelling vision of what a world can be.
This book doesn't do that, but it does, right at the end, when it could have so easily avoided it, do a 30-year-old version of that where it's all because of life's electrical connection (to be fair, the character in the book even says this with doubt, acknowledging they are grasping at straws.)
Kudo's for leaving so much else unsaid (why does the virus invariably kill men? The author needs it to, but she leaves it at that. What/who *exactly* are the Goth? Left unsaid. How exactly does Company have this kind of unfettered power, and what are the government(s) of Earth doing? Not important.) But the "it's all connected electrically"... ehh, yeah, I'm old enough and that is just so 70's (??) to early 90's. Just far too "It's all energy, man," and it threw cold water on an otherwise great read.
I kind of want to give 5 stars, despite that (and hence, perhaps, this long explanation why not.)
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