Status
Call number
Series
Publication
Description
Mycroft Canner is a convict. For his crimes he is required, as is the custom of the 25th century, to wander the world being as useful as he can to all he meets. Carlyle Foster is a sensayer-a spiritual counselor in a world that has outlawed the public practice of religion, but which also knows that the inner lives of humans cannot be wished away. The world into which Mycroft and Carlyle have been born is as strange to our 21st-century eyes as ours would be to a native of the 1500s. It is a hard-won utopia built on technologically-generated abundance, and also on complex and mandatory systems of labeling all public writing and speech. What seem to us normal gender distinctions are now distinctly taboo in most social situations. And most of the world's population is affiliated with globe-girdling clans of the like-minded, whose endless economic and cultural competition is carefully managed by central planners of inestimable subtlety. To us it seems like a mad combination of heaven and hell. To them, it seems like normal life. And in this world, Mycroft and Carlyle have stumbled on the wild card that may destabilize the system: the boy Bridger, who can effortlessly make his wishes come true. Who can, it would seem, bring inanimate objects to life.… (more)
User reviews
On another level, this is an excursion into the Eighteenth Century mind, expressed through the medium of an Eighteenth Century novel. (For the most part. Some of the subject matter would never have been addressed in a novel from the Eighteenth Century. And I don't just mean the science fictional parts.) Politics, fashion, public spectacle, crime and punishment are all influenced by the re-discovered philosophies of the Eighteenth Century. For me, this was an excursion back into my school history. Diderot and the Encyclopaedists! Jean-Jacques Rousseau and the Noble Savage! Voltaire and the Enlightenment! The Marquis de Sade! (Well, he wasn't covered in school.) All these got mentions. The fascination with the Eighteenth Century is expressed in the format of the novel. There are asides, diversions to explain this philosophical point or that social nicety. I had been warned about this by other reviews; I didn't find it as disruptive to my reading as I feared.
Having said that, the author has mixed things up considerably by deliberately adopting gender-neutral pronouns; partly to show that the future society is situated at a time where such things are both sometimes necessary, and always polite; but also, by having one of their main characters break that particular rule, to help explain the society's mores to us. Having read Anne Leckie's 'Ancillary Sword' series not so long ago, I wasn't too taken aback by this, and indeed began challenging the gender identity of some characters fairly early on, which turned out to be a helpful move on my part.
As to the plot: it starts out as the investigation of a theft, a very First World sort of theft. Political influence in this world is gauged by "Seven-Ten Lists", lists published by a number of influential news sources every so often, detailing who is up, who is down, and who are the ones to watch out for. (And anyone who thinks this is unlikely needs to look at the sports pages of their favourite news outlet.) One particular 'bash' (from the Japanese 'basho', used here to denote an extended household with a specific Hive affiliation and a particular high-profile role in the global society) falls under suspicion of being involved in the theft. Investigation shows that they are probably being set up for this crime, but the investigation also uncovers a lot of suspicious activities that point in a very worrying direction. And that's before anyone realises that the bash' is sheltering a strange child with even stranger powers.
Characters are interestingly drawn; in keeping with the style of the novel, we are told as much as we are shown. The plot gets quite complex, so much so that as we get towards the end of this first part of the story (there are another three volumes in the series), the author feels it necessary to bring together many of the central characters for an Agatha Christie-like reveal, although in this instance, it's more of a review of how the plot threads have become tangled, and what the characters propose to do to try to untangle them. And the central character, through whom the story is told to an off-stage Reader (and possibly others), is something of an unusual choice. He is a rarity in this world, a mass murderer, who has been sentenced to Servitude; effectively an indentured slave to the whole world, he is at the beck and call of any citizen to do jobs that require people to get their hands dirty, usually in literal ways. For this, he is kept, and fed; but he is unable to hold property or possessions, and has to be on constant call. But his skills are such that the jobs he is called upon to do are a cut above shovelling ordure; he is considered to be one of the finest analytical minds on earth, and so was too important to be put to death. And connected with this character is the child with remarkable powers who seems to be implicated in some sort of change to the world that the Reader lives in but the writer does not.
In Britain, we would call this a "Marmite" book; you will either love it or hate it. Personally, I loved it; for the world-building, for the erudition, for the sheer difference of this world from our own. I started reading science fiction to be challenged; and this book certainly achieves that. But this isn't a rip-roaring, action-packed page-turner, and if that is your preference, you should look elsewhere.
It's the twenty fifth century, and Earth has evolved into a kind of utopia where really fast flying cars have made the whole globe accessible, and nations are based on membership rather than geographical location. Our protagonist (as much as he likes to swear that he isn't the protagonist) is Mycroft Canner, a convict sentenced to spend his life being of use to people, and Too Like The Lightning is presented as an in-universe account of events written (mostly) from his point of view. He's also the protector of Bridger, a young boy who can seemingly make all his wishes come true and bring inanimate objects to life. When the house sheltering Bridger becomes the focus of a high-profile theft investigation, it kicks world-changing events into motion, and Mycroft is at the center of it all.
I'm not sure where to start – reading this book was like being drawn into a whole new world and I couldn't stop thinking about it for days after I had finished. I don't think I've encountered any future utopias that still involve humanity living primarily on Earth – there's Star Trek, but it involves spaceships and aliens. It seems ambitious because it fills in so many details of the world and how we got there from here. It's not entirely a utopia either, all writing is censored and labeled, the practice of religion is outlawed (it's instead been replaced by an order known as the sensayers, who are kind of like psychologists, philosophers, and priests combined, and talk to people about the existential questions that you can't outlaw), and distinctions between genders are not encouraged. And the people populating the world are different too, as you would expect from a world where scarcity wasn't much of an issue – still very much human, but with unfamiliar values and assumptions. I don't think I've encountered such a cohesive and fascinating world in a long time.
I found the writing somewhat pretentious at first. Mycroft is deliberately borrowing heavily from the style of eighteenth century French philosophy, and it seems somewhat incongruous. Plus, he has an irritating habit of occasionally pretending to be the reader reacting to the text. It probably doesn't help that he has a particularly sensational way of looking at the world sometimes – it's pretty clear that it's Mycroft's point of view and not the world itself, though. I got used to it though, in part because the people in the world do seem like real characters (probably because they have the time to be, not having to work all the time.) I'm sure many of the references to Voltaire and Diderot and the Marquis de Sade and Robespierre and the rest went straight over my head, but that didn't prevent me from enjoying the book.
There's a pretty large cast of characters, the sensayer Carlyle Foster is probably the most prominent of them, but they're all very memorable. The book itself takes place over only three days, but a lot happens in those days – much of it talking (Too Like The Lightning is classified as political science fiction, so of course there's a lot of politics, which I always love), but none of it is boring. It helps that Mycroft has known most of these people for years and can give us comprehensive introductions to them. The author really takes advantage of the fact that it's presented as an in-universe book to give us information in a natural way. I can't say much else about the plot, it seems to move slowly at first, but there are major payoffs. Also, the book doesn't quite end in a cliffhanger, but you'll be glad that the next book in the duology, Seven Surrenders, comes out this year as well.
A couple of minor annoyances – like I said, the writing style bothered me for the while, and some things never stopped bothering me, like bringing up the national heritage of characters all the time as descriptors – for example both Thisbe Saneer and Bryar Kosala's hair was described as "thick Indian hair", I wish my Indian hair was thick! It just seemed like a shortcut to describing the characters, as well as tying the world to present Earth. Also, I guess it matches the eighteenth century France theme, but it seemed like everyone had weird sexual proclivities.
The setting is a 25th century that I found a little improbably optimistic in terms of the perpetuation of our contemporary civilization, although there are increasingly explicit references to upheavals that have happened in the interim. The questionably reliable narrator is a sort of public slave ("servicer") with intimate connections to the global elite, and his conscious efforts to supply historical perspective mostly reference the 18th-century Enlightenment. It has really been a joy for me to read sf that is in overt conversation with Voltaire and de Sade!
Ada Palmer's future world supposes a formidable transportation network that makes the whole planet local. Ethnic phenotypes and nationalities have become merely ornamental, while public expressions of human gender are socially discouraged. Religion has been actively suppressed by universal legislation, with individual spiritual needs ministered to by non-prostelytizing "sensayer" professionals. The largest polities are a handful of Hives which adults join voluntarily.
The Hive with the greatest population is that of the Masonic Empire, distinguished by--among other features--its official and social use of Latin. This detail reminded me at once of the Martian language in the Church of All Worlds in Stranger in a Strange Land. The connection is more than incidental. Like Heinlein's touchstone work, Too Like the Lightning also concerns itself with sex and religion, and suspends much of its plot from the advent of a child with miraculous powers. In fact, there is an explicit allusion to Valentine Michael Smith (267).
The style here is however more Wolfe than Heinlein, where the fictional narrator's exposition assumes a hypothetical audience whose needs are different than that of the 21st-century reader. Palmer cleverly highlights this fact with a device that has apparently irritated some reviewers: The reader is conscripted to protest elements of the narrator's presentation, and given the actual verbiage of doing so, with these interjections distinguished by italic type and archaic diction.
The book is an ambitious and intricate start to a work I will certainly continue reading.
Cons: opening is VERY confusing, some uncomfortable scenes,
Too Like the Lightning is the first book of the Terra Ignota duology. The second half, Seven Surrenders, comes out in December. The two books together are a historical account of 7 days that lead to an event that changes the world, as written by Mycroft Canner, an eye witness to many of the events, as well as instrumental to a lot of vitally important background activities. The year of interest is 2454. Though the current world doesn’t use gendered pronouns and raises all as equals, Mycroft uses antiquated words for this account. Religions shows up too, though the Church Wars have made all proselytising, churches, and cults illegal. Mycroft is a Servicer, available to anyone who needs a servant, though most often seen helping those in high offices, to atone for the crimes he committed 13 years prior. He starts his great work by explaining the meeting between the sensayer Carlysle and Bridger, a 13 year old boy, who for his own safety Mycroft has kept hidden. A boy who can perform miracles.
The book starts with a title page explaining the permissions obtained so that the book could be published, as well as the various content ratings the book received. While these names and institutions don’t mean much to the reader at the beginning, they set the tone for a book with fully immersive world-building. I spent the first half of the book trying to piece together the meanings of positions and terms, placing characters into their political groups, and feeling quite lost by the sheer mass of things that are left unexplained. While Mycroft does give occasional asides for the reader, these are asides for readers of his present, for whom the events being relayed are past, and for whom the terms that I questioned aren’t unfamiliar.
The brilliance of the book starts in the second half when the occasional philosophical asides start to be reflected in the plot through the actions of the characters. It’s here that you start to understand that the book isn’t a straight narrative, that you’re meant to examine the different layers of text and subtext in order to piece together what’s actually going on. For example, Mycroft doesn’t always gender people properly. It’s frustrating as a reader, but there is a reason for this, which comes up later in the book. Similarly, some scenes are disturbing to read, not because they’re graphic, but because they pair eroticism and terror, something most people don’t equate. This again is done for a reason that the book eventually reveals. So many later revelations make you reevaluate what you understood from the first half of the book. Sometimes more than once.
The world-building is exquisite. It’s completely alien to our current political situation, and yet is something one could imagine coming to pass given the circumstances the characters face. The politics are fascinating, with level upon level of competition and alliance.
There are a lot of characters to remember, but I didn’t have any trouble keeping them all straight. I do recommend, however, bookmarking the seven-ten list when it’s revealed, as you’ll be referring to it several times as more people are introduced and the political situations become clearer. In fact, I haven’t bookmarked and highlighted so much text since university. This is the kind of book I would have loved to have a professor explain the intricacies of, and then write an essay on.
I almost put this book down on several occasions. It can be that frustrating and confusing at times. But the pay-off when you start understanding what’s going on, with all its layers and complexity, is definitely worth the effort. I cannot wait for the next book to come out.
That perhaps seems at odds given my rating, but it is fully immersive, carefully thought out and planned, densely written, complex, layered, intelligent, powerful. There aren't a lot of books where I need to
It's certainly not for everyone, but nothing is, and what is (probably) lacks in pulp appeal it makes up for with lively discussion and intellectual engagement. The plot is surprisingly tight, but it takes awhile to emerge from the heaving morass of humanity as depicted.
It is something of a setting junkie book, and the plot takes awhile to get going. I was also dubious about the pacing--there's always something jarring to me about a book which takes longer to read than it does to "happen", by which I mean events occur in a matter of days during the novel. Meanwhile it took me weeks to read it.
I had two main responses. One, this book tries to be so clever that you could stick a tail on it and call it a fox. Two, there was not one character that I really could give a damn about and, over time, that has become one of the few conventional elements I demand in a novel. A novella, not so much, as due to the shorter length I have fewer issues with a character mostly being a mouthpiece for the ideas that the author is playing with. What this means going forward is I'm not sure that I really want to read three more books of this stuff. Though I suspect that I'll give the second book a shot, considering the bomb Palmer sets off towards the end.
in "Too Like the Lightning" by Ada Palmer
This novel is nothing more than a description of a future where communities of different enlightened ideas have emerged, building on a common core, creating the opportunity for collaboration, essentially for all of humanity, and ultimately analyzing how it all works.
I’ve been wanting to read this novel since it came out in 2016; I’ve put it down with a semi-articulated “faithful-ha” note after reading the last line. I feel like this could be one of SF’s great novels of recent years, with brilliant world creation, stunning prose, in-depth thoughts. The author grasped no less a subject than the Enlightenment, the philosophy of Voltaire, Diderot, and de Sade, the nature of religion and human rights. Placing all this in a 25th century quasi-utopia that Palmer had thought through very carefully. In this world, an automated network of flying cars allows us to get anywhere on Earth in an hour or two. [Believe me, both cars and the people in charge of the network will have a critical role to play. In a large, non-geographically organized community which can be joined by anyone with a personal outlook on life, such as the Humanists, the Utopians, or the Freemasons (not a joke, it's a bloody serious group, a kind of postmodern Roman Patricians and Victorian heroes; there are many similarities between the two]. At the same time, new taboos emerged in the new age: the most important of these were gender and religion. Both are the most sacred private affairs that you are free to practice between the four walls in any form and shape you want, but it is forbidden to even refer to them in public. All this results in a culture whose elements come from the 18th century but It reflects the reality of the twentieth century, or even the dreams of the great thinkers of the age; in other aspects it aims at the exaggerated consequences of today’s trends, being extremely exciting and original. Mycroft is the one who states in the first sentences that he will tell his story in the style of a bygone age and that he will be confused with all sorts of outdated words that he will sometimes lead us astray or lie directly to you. But he does more than that: he quarrels with you and puts words in your mouth, or just praises you for your perseverance. One of his favourite tricks is to use gender-specific pronouns (he / she) in a completely imaginative way: sometimes in a biological sense, sometimes in an ironically amplifying way to certain stereotypes, and sometimes not at all, using the plural (they) in a neutral singular sense. And Mycroft is also able to convince himself that all everything is not an end in itself, but does make sense in depicting the world. If all that weren’t enough, you’ll assume all along that you, dear reader, will live in the future while Mycroft’s the one from the 25th century messaging stuff to you.
Mycroft, by the way, is a convicted criminal, the number one public enemy of his time, who’s essentially a slave that can be used by anyone with only the most basic rights. At the same time, because of his irreplaceable knowledge, he revolves in the highest circles and sees into the most secret affairs of the Hives that rule the world. Mycroft’s help is sought, among other things, for the disappearance and inexplicable unearthing of a secret document, but he is also involved in the special events surrounding the company that manages the flying cars already mentioned above. And if that weren’t enough, he takes on the task of raising a boy who can change the world with his abilities. But Mycroft himself is full of mysteries, his past and present motivations forming a maze that matches even the most beautiful intrigues of the secret aristocracy of this world.
It is an extremely complex, socio-political philosophical SF novel, which, moreover, does not end here, but will be further complicated in the next volume. Great people (historical and fictional) as well as great thoughts line up on the pages, but the plot is also terribly twisted, sometimes even headachy. But if you love the world of Neal Stephenson’s “Diamond Age”, Hannu Rajaniemi’s unbridled imagination, Dan Simmons ’multifaceted literacy, and Félix J. Palma’s poetic brazenness, this is the book for you.
There's still hope for SF.
SF = Speculative Fiction.
Second read: Yeah wow holy shit I don't need to read the second book to give this five stars. Weird, bewildering, creepy, overflowing with ideas, more thought-provoking than most of
Series review: bursting with ideas, dizzying, really epic, believes in my intelligence but doesn't assume I have a classics degree, probably assumes I have a liberal arts degree which I do and it helped, bewildering, unsettling, rarely gross, deeply humane in a time when I really need that from the books I read.
I admit that this, for me, was all about the world-building and the politics, conspiracy and straight mind-flipping philosophical questions put forth here. I have to admit that I was quite disturbed with how I could see the reasons some of these things were put in motion by one Hive (like a House) or another. What price peace? It seems a global cabal that still hasn't had the entire veil lifted on. I need to say here once more... the wait for the second installment next year is just unfair! On another note, I've been completely disabused of the idea that if we can't trust anyone else, we can trust the mathematicians because they deal in the purity of numbers. Cartesian set-sets, I'm looking at you. Shame!
Be advised that if you're thinking by the summary that the special child, Bridger will be mainly featured in this story, he's not. Frankly, I must admit that I wasn't sorry as there's so much else going on. I was very captivated by the discussion & hints of the future that must come to be because of the big reveal that must be forthcoming. Mycroft is a great narrator but I did find his breaking of the fourth wall to throw me completely out of scene in the first third. Add to this that the singular "they" kept me at a distance from the characters while I did appreciate the challenge to my mind to think in a genderless way. I have to admit that Mycroft's explication of he or she after stressing the reason for the previous reference to "they" was annoying because I totally could accept the reason for it & happily read on but he just wouldn't leave it. It gave the impression that while he says that sex assignation is not important, it really is. Still, I applaud the author for writing this future history this way and challenging me in the present with how I think. I admit that I'm one who likes to visualise stories as I read them and while I can intellectually let go of gender being important, in my head, I don't see androgeny or genderless sapiens especially when the society is not intended to be made up of them. In this case, I decided that as long as I knew two people were speaking to one another, it didn't matter their gender... unless Mycroft stressed such in fevered italics relating to born with genitalia or prosthetics.
To sum up, I recommend this. Highly. If you liked I, Claudius by Robert Graves, you'll be good with the style. If you like Kim Stanley Robinson, you'll be good with the world building emphasis. This is an expansive look at a future time and I can't wait to get back to it next year.
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace.
It is almost as if Ada Palmer has reviewed the words of John Lennon's 'Imagine' and posed the question 'well what if there WAS no religion? What if there was
And so in the world of 'Too Like the Lightning', in the middle of the 25th Century there are no proselytizing religions. Belief is purely a private matter, for discussion of the individual with their counsellor (sensayer). Three people, meeting together and talking of God constitutes a Church meeting, and is proscribed by law. The 'Church Wars' saw to that.
Nation states are no more, with humanity affiliated instead into seven Hives of the like-minded, whose globe spanning clans have also replaced the nuclear family with the bash' (from the Japanese i-basho), groupings of four to twenty friends, rearing ideas and and children together in their private havens of discourse and play. Masons, Humanists, Gordians, Cousins, Utopians, Mitsubishi, Europeans and the Hiveless all have a role to play.
Fundamental to the function of the world is the existence of cheap, rapid and reliable transport. The Mukhta, the really truly flying car connects the world and obliterates distance. one can live in Chile, work in London, and be home in time for dinner.
The Saneer-Weeksbooth bash' has the responsibility for maintaining and controlling the system which manages the cars. Hundreds of millions of lightning fast transits every day. They are the most important people in the world.
Into the bash' comes Mycroft Canner, our unreliable narrator. Mycroft is a 'servicer', fated to make himself useful as punishment for initially unspecified crimes in his past. Mycroft relates the events of a very critical seven days, days on which it seems, the fate of the world will depend. Palmer cloaks Mycroft's commentary in prose reminiscent of the 18th century, which is appropriate, because she has cherry-picked and warped the ideas of the Enlightenment to build this world for our enjoyment. The subject of the story begins with the investigation into the theft of the 'Seven-Ten List', which is quite simply, a selection of the 'most influential' personages in the world. The theft it seems, may be associated with the Saneer-Weeksbooth bash'. But more importantly, the bash' has a secret. The boy Bridger, who it seems, can make wishes come true....
There is a lot to like here. The story is new and inventive, and after initial orientation, the tone of the narration works well. It is rare to find a story of utopia, rather than the dime a dozen dystopias which are the currency of near future fiction these days. Of course, below the surface, perhaps it is not so perfect after all.
I did however, find it hard to comprehend why the 'Seven-Ten List', even if stolen could be of much consequence, given that these lists are the opinions of a journalists and commentators. Whilst the world is well conceived, it focuses exclusively on the lives of the elite and influential, without giving a glimpse of how the ruled pass their lives. And, perhaps not surprisingly, since the Enlightenment is largely a European idea, it is overly Eurocentric. Africa and South East Asia seem to have disappeared, whist the Mitsibushi hive is seemingly the ghetto for inscrutable orientals.
The sequel, 'Seven Surrenders', is released in December 2016, and is much anticipated
Travel anywhere in the world is measured in minutes. This has led to a breakdown in traditional governments and let people all across the world associate based on common interests rather than geography. Religion is outlawed but may be discussed privately with sensayers, who tend to a person’s spiritual well-being. Gender distinctions are mostly taboo. A handful of corporation-like clans mixed with philosophers and remnants of nation states guide world affairs.
Mycroft Canner is a convict. His sentence is to be useful. To other people and to all of society. That he is a criminal is never hidden, but the nature of his crimes are not revealed to the reader until deep into the novel. Committing crimes is infinitely more difficult, but not impossible. Carlyle Foster is a sensayer who lands in the middle of Mycroft’s life and a secret he is concealing: Bridger. Bridger is a boy who can make wishes reality. That ability could threaten the entire interconnected world.
Too Like the Lightning is an ambitious and challenging book. There are almost too many ideas expressed to discuss or even fully absorb. It is a mystery as well as a political treatise. It is a distant future with a reverence for the 18th century, particularly Voltaire. The narrator breaks the fourth wall and at times speaks directly to the reader. Palmer does a magnificent job of placing you in this fully realized world and letting you pick up the rules as you go. The pace at which significant pieces of information are revealed are timed for maximum effect. She keeps you unsure of who to trust and how far to trust them. You are likewise puzzled about the many plots and subplots at work, but always given enough information to keep frustration from setting in.
I suspect this book reveals more every time you read it. The characters are people you would want to spend time with and be alternately charmed by and terrified of.
If anyone was still afraid that science fiction was out of ideas after Ann Leckie’s wonderful Ancillary series, Ada Palmer will put any remaining fears to rest. This is an exciting and important work.
One word of caution. The book ends abruptly as it is the first of two parts. The second part is slated to come out before the end of the year so it is not a long wait. Not only should you read this book, you should make all your friends read it because you are going to want to talk about it. A lot. Highly recommended!
I listened to the audio version of this book narrated by Jefferson Mays who did an outstanding job with it. The narration places you directly in the world and the melodic voices of the characters keeps you glued to the story. This is a story, particularly in audio form, that both demands and rewards close attention.
I was fortunate to receive an advance copy of this book.
It's a very ambitious, very complex, very intelligent novel.
However, it also tries too hard. It's a bit too impressed with itself for being intelligent, ambitious and complex.
More than once, I just felt like sighing and saying, "Relax! Drop all the meta- stuff and
In the world of 'Too Like the Lightning' criminal justice has settled on sentencing lawbreakers to service, rather than prison. Criminals are required to work at whatever tasks they are asked to do. Mycroft Canner is one of these criminals. But his situation is a bit unusual in that he works for one of the most influential families in this society. And in this society, influence is everything... Due to enhanced communications and travel technology, among other advances adding up to a post-scarcity economy, geographic nationalism is obsolete. People form families (or maybe they're closer to communes and/or corporations) and alliances based solely on common interests and specializations. Nearly any kind of social arrangement is accepted, but in this tolerant, peaceful society, the strongest taboo is against talking about religion or any kind of 'supernatural' beliefs to anyone except a professional 'sensayer' (a kind of priest/spiritual counselor.)
The aspect of the book having to do with social dynamics reminded me quite a lot of some of William Gibson's more recent works (and that's a good thing!) Maybe a little bit of Iain Banks. Add in an obsession with 18th-century Europe, and hero-worship of Voltaire... it's interesting!
Their social media publishes a list of movers and shakers, and placement on the list is a weighty matter. So, when it's suspected that someone has stolen the unpublished list, or that it wasn't authored by the person who's given credit for it, the scandal could be world-shaking.
But what could be even more world-shaking is a secret held by one family, the criminal Mycroft, and the sensayer Carlyle: a young boy has been born who has the power to make anything he imagines real. Can this ability be used for good? Or is it too dangerous to reveal? Should Mycroft, who holds secrets of his own, be trusted with this knowledge, as he has been?
And then, there're quite a few more sub-plots... some of them quite literally plots.
The reader's perception of things is colored - perhaps warped - by Mycroft's narration, in which he speaks directly to his audience quite frequently, is clearly holding information back, and may be rather unreliable.
Secrets abound, and this society is so deeply strange to us that's it's hard to tell what 'normal' for our characters and what's not...
This book is the first half of a planned duology, which means that some of the more significant elements in the story aren't tied up at the end at all, leaving it hard to predict how well it will all come together when complete.
Many thanks to Tor and NetGalley for the opportunity to read. As always, my opinions are solely my own.
For a while, it was. For the first quarter or so of the book, I was thoroughly enjoying
Then the politics started to get complex. I mean really complex. And not just complex, but totally foreign. The politics are so far removed from anything in our world that it was hard to keep track of why some of the political events mattered, or what their implications were.
Then I started to get some of the characters confused, because there are too many of them.
Then, totally out of the blue, the book turns out to have some very disturbing scenes of torture, rape, and murder, which are described in way more detail than they need to be, considering that they have (as far as I can tell) nothing to do with the plot. But then again, by that point I had lost track of the plot, because it was so complex that I couldn't understand what was going on, and there were so many different threads that it was hard to tell which ones were important.
And it just kept going downhill from there, until I got to the end, which is not an end at all, but a "to be continued." And that boy who can work miracles? Pretty much never comes back into the story, apparently has no effect on the plot, really hard to tell what he's doing there.
The main character is also a hard pill to swallow. He's a convict living a life of servitude. But he's also one of the most brilliant people in the world. And he's connected to every single other important person in the book. And they all want him to help them solve multiple mysteries. And he's privy to a bunch of really private, really important information that could make or break the world. And he has this really freaky past. It's just way too much to cram into one character.
I usually really like books where the author is ludicrously intelligent and their intelligence comes through. However, in this book, I feel like Ada Palmer is so far beyond anyone else's intellect that it's impossible to follow where she's going. I was so disappointed by this book.
Update, post-sequel: Not for me. In the sequel, the things I didn't like about the first book just got moreso, and the things I liked
However, for me there was just too much going on here. A couple of things I could really have done without were 1) the part where the narrator goes on for two pages about how he could never possibly translate Latin into English for ~reasons~ so the dialogue in the next section will be left in Latin, followed by a note from the "editor" saying "actually I did translate it because it's confusing"; and 2) all the pronoun stuff.
I mean, I can roll with the general concept that this society refers to everyone as "they" out of prudishness because gendered pronouns remind them of sex, but then the narrator is constantly going "I'll call these characters "he" because of ~reasons~", "I'll call this character "he" so that you know he's a political equal of these other characters", "this character is clearly physically male, but once protected a child so I will use "she" here". It got on my nerves very quickly, and was a pointless additional layer of confusion. I suppose after the brothel stuff, having gender be a taboo subject was somewhat relevant to the plot, but that doesn't happen until well into the book, so I was already too irritated by it by that point for it to seem justified.
I'm not sure I care enough about how the plot winds up to bother with the second part.
It plays in a futuristic utopia, maybe dystopia, and is told from the perspective of Mycroft Canner, an unreliable and to a certain extent unlikable narrator. We find ourselves in the 25th century, but Mycroft insists on writing like he time travelled straight from the Age of Enlightenment. Ada Palmer describes this futuristic society in astonishing detail and the characters are fascinating and well developed.
This one is definitely for the ambitious science fiction fan, and I'm pretty certain it will benefit from a re-read.
"Too Like the Lightning is a brilliant matryoshka tale that spans classical philosophy and far-future
One big problem is that I like stories of the fantastic or the future best when they have rules that the characters have to work with and against. In this, there are characters who can literally raise the dead and seem to have no limitations, which makes the whole thing less interesting.