Ancillary Justice

by Ann Leckie

Paperback, 2013

Status

Available

Call number

813.6

Publication

Orbit (2013), Edition: Later Printing, 416 pages

Description

Now isolated in a single frail human body, Breq, an artificial intelligence that used to control of a massive starship and its crew of soldiers, tries to adjust to her new humanity while seeking vengeance and answers to her questions.

User reviews

LibraryThing member StormRaven
Disclosure: I received this book as part of the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program. Some people think this may bias a reviewer so I am making sure to put this information up front. I don't think it biases my reviews, but I'll let others be the judge of that.

The story takes place in two different
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times. In one, Breq is on the planet Nilt seeking a fugitive doctor hoping to acquire the gun that holds the key to all of Breq's plans. In the other, nearly twenty years earlier, Breq doesn't exist as an individual, but rather is both part of, and is, the massive starship Justice of Toren, aware in many locations and through many bodies all at once. And this highlights one of the many interesting elements of the story: The question of identity. Is Breq a person? A malfunctioning piece of equipment? A fragment of a larger whole? An individual subsuming the whole into herself? Leckie manages to accomplish the difficult task of saying both "yes" to all of these, and "no" to all of them as well, because, as becomes clear as the story progresses, the answer depends upon the viewpoint of who is considering the matter.

Though the story doesn't take place entirely within its borders, everything that happens is dominated by the politics of the Radch Empire, the largest, and until recently, most aggressively expansionist human political entity. For centuries, the Radch have annexed other worlds, using their superior weapons and nigh-impenetrable armor to conquer and assimilate entire populations of people. As part of these annexations, Radch divide the subjugated populace - making a lucky few into citizens, killing some, and transforming the remainder into mind-wiped bodies kept in cold storage for later use as "ancillaries", living, breathing ship components. Breq was once an ancillary, a component of Justice of Toren before that ship and every other part of her was destroyed. This leaves Breq in an odd position as she is left with just one human body, but she's not human by Radch standards. And with her ship body destroyed, Breq isn't the Justice of Toren any more. She's not a fragment of her former self - she still has all, or at least most, of the memories and knowledge of her ship-self - but she isn't the whole either.

These questions are at the very heart of the novel. Each ship used by the Radchaai is a single mind in many bodies, separated into several groupings, forming what can only be described as deck crews to serve the human officers assigned to the ship's various sections. So while the Justice of Toren is a unitary whole, it is also the ancillaries that make up the unit known as One Esk, and the unit known as One Var, and so on. In one particularly chilling scene, the components of Justice recall overseeing the culling of the inhabitants of a subject planet, guarding a collection of noncitizens, some of whom will be killed, others to be spared, but "spared" in this case means that they will be destined for the cold sleep vaults to be used as ancillaries. Essentially, Justice is overseeing the selection process that will transform human beings into equipment under her control.

And it is situations like these that reveal the fundamental injustice of the Radchaai system, although it is clear that from the perspective of the Radchaai, not only is their system just, deviating from it would be fundamentally unjust. But this is shown to be, at least in part, because the Radchaai viewpoint is severely restricted, not in small part due to their language. The word "radch" literally means "civilization" in the Radch language, making it almost impossible for the Radchaai to talk about non-Radch civilizations. Those who are outside the Radch polity are, by the terms of the Radch language, defined as uncivilized. Similarly, when trying to express the concept of "tyrant" to Seivarden, Breq has to switch to a different language, because the Radch language has no words that can express it properly. Given the structure of Radch society, one gets the impression that these language quirks many not be accidental. And this is just the most obvious way that the fundamental injustices in Radch society are cast as justice. For example, all Radchaai citizens take the "aptitudes" ostensibly merit based exams used to determine what career is best suited to each individual. But the characters in the story suspect based upon their experiences with the aptitudes that they are not merit based at all, and that the scions of wealthy and politically powerful families get preferential assignments. And, despite the glaring unfairness of this, this is taken as an indication that the system is just, because many Radchaai assume that members of those families are more capable of handling those positions. Granted, most of those saying this are members of families that benefit from such bias in the testing, but once incorporated into the Radch, it seems that newcomers also adopt this view. The Radch, we are shown time and again, hold a myopic viewpoint that is reinforced by their language and culture.

The pivotal act of treachery that destroys the bulk of Justice of Toren is precipitated by Anaander Mianaai's failure to realize that even though Toren was technically a whole entity, she was also composed of various constituent parts, and some of those parts might have formed

[More forthcoming]
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LibraryThing member kgodey
I've been hearing rave reviews of ANCILLARY JUSTICE everywhere, so when I finally got my copy, I pounced on it and finished it that very night. Despite the sky-high expectations, I was not disappointed - it's one of the best books I've read this year.

The protagonist of ANCILLARY JUSTICE is Breq,
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the sole remnant of the sentient starship Justice of Toren of the Radch Empire. She (it?) has been seeking vengeance after the rest of her was destroyed, and on a remote, icy planet, she's getting close to the end of her quest. I don't want to say any more about the premise because anything I say would focus on only a small part of what this book encompasses, and I think that would be doing it a disservice.

Breq's viewpoint is fascinating - she is someone who is accustomed to perceiving and processing millions of things in many different locations and ways - sometimes through pieces of mechanical equipment, sometimes through human bodies (called ancillaries). She looks human but has never been human, so the things she pays attention to and the thoughts she has are very different. The story alternates between Breq's present quest, and the events that led to it (when Breq had her full capabilities as Justice of Toren), so we see her character evolve (devolve?).

ANCILLARY JUSTICE examines humanity in an incredibly compelling way - by omission. Breq pays absolutely no attention to the fact that her ancillaries were once fully human, or to other characters' dismay over that fact. There is one disturbing scene where a new ancillary is connected to the ship, and the only thing the ship comments on as it squelches the human's memories is that it is irritated that the host doesn't know any new songs that it could learn. The way supporting characters feel is also clear through Breq's narration - some are in love, some are scared, but much of the time, Breq has no awareness of what their actions mean, or even of her own feelings.

Many of the other concepts in this novel are also explored via omission - individuality and gender are two examples. Justice of Toren`s individuality is murky - each ancillary unit has its own personality (or maybe just Breq's origin - One Esk?), but they're part of the ship. The Lord of the Radch, Anaander Mianaai, further adds to this murkiness - supposedly she is a single entity with thousands of genetically identical bodies - but is she? Gender is similar - The Radch Empire is a post-gender society, and Breq has a really hard time identifying people's gender in other societies. I tried really hard to keep track of people's "real" genders for the first few chapters, but then came to realise it didn't matter at all.

Despite all the hard science-fictional concepts, ANCILLARY JUSTICE never gets lost in its own ideas - it is well-paced and extremely readable all the way through. I could go on and on about pretty much everything in this book - the worldbuilding, its exploration of another half a dozen concepts, the characters, and much more, but instead I'll just tell you that this is one of the most original and ambitious books I've read, and exhort you to read it as soon as possible!
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LibraryThing member lquilter
Finally read this and greatly enjoyed it. It reminded me quite a lot of Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, not so much for its gender issues, as for its pacing, its focus on the protagonist and their view of the world(s) and their traveling companion, the political machinations that were beyond
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the view of protagonist and the reader alike, and the thoughtful exploration of ethics. The pacing and voice in particular -- like LHOD, this took me a while to get into, but then mesmerized me. I think also the use and focus on certain human details -- here, the tea, the gloves, the armor, the religion, the discussion of parenting -- which ground the reader both in universal human traits and in a place and time that is very different from the reader's own culture (whatever it is).

The gender thing that seemed to be a focus for so many other reviewers didn't really disrupt my reading experience. Maybe because I actively re-gender or de-gender books as I read them to my kid? ("Ada, the author made all the characters boys -- do you want it that way or do you want some of them to be boys?") I mean, I noticed it, especially when there was a switching of gendered pronouns and I needed to backtrack to make sure I understood which character was being discussed, but it didn't get me. I'm realizing I still don't have a sense of bio/genetic sex of the various characters. In this respect, Leckie managed to realize what Le Guin attempted in Left Hand of Darkness (but that's only an in-retrospect observation, not what brought LHOD to mind while I was reading the book).

I liked the fractured identity and the complexities of that, as well as the complacent acceptances of atrocities on the part of individuals. Sometimes they turned out to be more aware of the nature of the atrocity than it seemed -- but they were still complicit even if critical. I'm thinking in particular of nature of the ancillaries, and the technology used to wipe/overwrite the original person, but uses of straightforward violence were also treated in that same way. I really appreciated the way these violences were pragmatically and assumedly normalized, but only on the surface; but the emotions and ethical judgments were all there, below the surface. As a writer's trick, this worked nicely with the protagonist's voice, since the protagonist was ostensibly an AI with an emotionally distant observer's voice. But it also worked well with the way that normal life deals with ethics all the time -- but only rarely surfaces their true nature.

Highly recommended; I'm requesting the sequel now.
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LibraryThing member AnnieMod
I've seen this book lauded as space opera (it is not), hard science fiction (it has some elements but it really is not) and everything in between. Which sets the expectations in the wrong direction - it is a tapestry of an empire but with its narrator being the main character, it is a lot more
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character driven than any of those labels allow for. But at the same time it is also restricted by this single voice that participate in the action telling the story - you cannot get a glimpse of the rest of the universe at the same time and anything that is said need to be considered as the understanding of the narrator - there is impartial voice to become the voice of reason.

Meet our narrator - once a ship, now a single ancillary unit, the only remains of the big battle ship Justice of Toren (that's a starship in case my rambling about space opera and hard science fiction did not make that abundantly clear). When we first meet her, she goes by the name of Breq and is on a quest for finding something (which in due course will see and hear all about). The story in the present time is alternated with the past story that leads to the quest at hand. It does break the monotony of the single voice (especially while Justice of Toren is actually still existing and we see the world through a lot of her eyes - the ship, the ancillaries, the human lieutenants. But even then, it is the story through the eyes of a participant, and an wounded one at that so how much of what we see and hear is the reality and how much is what Breq wants to remember may be open to interpretation. Or should have been anyway - and this is where my main issue with the novel is - it is unnecessary simplistic.

Choosing Breq for the narrator closes a lot of options for Leckie to explore and change the perception of the world. I do not have issues with the technique - the novel feels a lot more personal this way. But then this first person narration is treated as a third person one - everything that is said and done is corroborated by circumstances and other people. Yes, Breq is an AI and much more likely to be a credible narrator but between that and the fact that the whole novel is told by her (I waited for half the book for a change... and gave up; the case remained to the end), the personal feeling that the first person narration was supposed to bring was lost. And the double strands of story (the past and the present) are used almost as counterpoint - the parts from the past are there to introduce something in the present - simplifying again the overall structure of the novel.

And then there is the issue with the lack of gender in the Radch language. The fact in itself did not bother me at all - I would have used "it" instead of "she" but in the second decade of the 21st century, the "she" is unavoidable. Leckie pulls it well - especially when she is not trying. But she is trying too hard - the first 3 times you are told that the language has no gender and Braq has issues with languages that have gender because she cannot recognize what gender someone belongs to, it sounds like an explanation. The next 10 times you wonder why the author thinks that your attention span is so short that you need a reminder. Every time after that I was gritting my teeth. Instead of being part of the world and the culture, it is trust to the front, making it a shouting point and a center element of the novel. And almost no time is spent on playing that equality in the Radch society against the caste like system of families that the empire relies on. We are reminded of it now and then but almost never putting the two issues against each other. It is almost ironic how the gender equality which is already achieved is front and center while the reforms that are attempting to bring social equality are somehow subdued. The usage of she is organic in the novel but every time when you feel like it becomes normal for you, it gets pushed again and you are reminded why it is there...

Despite these issues, Leckie actually does an amazing job in building the Radch Empire - and to some extent she actually makes it almost unexpectedly. Small tidbits here and there, conversations and descriptions, memories and hopes - they are weaved together to build an empire that by the end of the book you think you know... or at least think you know.

A major talking point in the novel is identity - what is I and what is we for a person or a ship and how you reconcile that; can shared minds work together. This is the part where Leckie actually handles the things as they should be - the glimpses into what is happening is fascinating and builds towards a surprising ending of the storyline (but not the story) of what happened and how. It's written carefully, with the exact amount of foreshadowing and surprising turns to keep it complete and logical (and I still cannot reconcile the author that wrote these pieces with the one pushing the "she"). The way the story ended, it will probably be a major point for the other 2 novels as well - and I hope Leckie finds a way to tame down the more unsubtle parts of the novel.

Rereading the review now it sounds almost negative but that is not exactly true. I liked the novel a lot, I liked the world built in it, I started warming up towards the protagonist (but Leckie need a bit better way to introduce people back into her life - bumping into three people she knows in the way it happened stretches the credibility - it is an old SF way to resolve such issues but it was a bit too coincidental in my book). But it could also have been a lot better novel - and if some of the issues are excusable for a first novel, some were just so misplaced that I kept wondering if it is just a grab for votes for an awards. The novel swept the awards last year but I am not sure how much of the votes were because of the novel itself and how much votes came from the handling of certain issues.

I am planning to read the other 2 novels in the trilogy - I liked it enough for that. But I suspect that if I had read it last year, I would have liked it a lot more - all the acclaim did it a bit of a disservice. Still if you like SF, read it - it is worth your time.
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LibraryThing member andreablythe
Description "On a remote, icy planet, the soldier known as Breq is drawing closer to completing her quest. Once, she was the Justice of Toren - a colossal starship with an artificial intelligence linking thousands of soldiers in the service of the Radch, the empire that conquered the galaxy. Now,
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an act of treachery has ripped it all away, leaving her with one fragile human body, unanswered questions, and a burning desire for vengeance."

Ahhhhhh! I love this book. There are so many layers of world building and character and language that make this fantastic. Beyond the creativity of the world, the just storyline is a straightforward and tense revenge tale and I often found myself unable to put this book down.

The ruling human culture and government is the Radch. The language has no distinction between genders in their culture, so the main character uses "she" for all characters. This is set up and made clear early on, as Breq's story begins on a world with distinct genders, so that while. Breq uses "she" in all cases, another character might use "he" pointing out the language distinction. Breq also has to be careful to not mis-gender characters in order to avoid confrontation. It might be confusing, except that it's handled exceptionally well. It was fascinated to note my own assumptions while reading and how they shifted when I learned that a particular character was "male" according to a more binary society.

In addition to the Radch, which is a complex society with rules of power and politeness and a sort of interplanetary manifest destiny, every world had its own societal rules that felt complete and natural to that world.

I also really loved Breq and the idea of a character as being one part of larger being. As Justice of Toren, she was the ship and all of the human-esque counterparts, known as ancillaries, all sharing the same mind. This was another area, where Leckie's skill is proven as she was able to portray that sense of being a single being existing many place at once in a clear and compelling way without it being overwhelming to the reader. It also created a unique and fascinating layering to Breq's character, who is the single unit cut off from her former self.

In fact, each of the characters was fascinating to me and those I initially hated turned out to have depth and histories that revealed them to not be bad guys, at least not from their own point of view.

I don't really know what else to say. I loved this book and. I can't wait to read the a sequel, Ancillary Sword.
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LibraryThing member AltheaAnn
A new favorite author? It could be!

This is just exactly the kind of hard sci-fi that I like: it’s got the right balance of compelling, believable characters, serious examination of both theoretical and relevant social issues, and plenty of pure action with spaceships and blaster guns, all in an
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original and fascinating universe.
I am so glad that my book club decided to read this, because the initial description of the book I’d read didn’t capture my imagination at all. Somehow, with the review’s mentions of sentient ships, hive minds and military action, it just didn’t grab me. Yes, the book has all that – but although the main character IS a sentient ship, and has been part of a group consciousness formed of enslaved corpses, this character currently has only one, human body. Although some of the other characters may feel that this circumstance equates to non-humanity, Breq is one of the most human characters you’re bound to encounter while reading (which, of course, is one of the main points of the novel.)

Breq was one part of the great military ship of the Imperial Radch – the Justice of Toren. Now, solitary and alone, Breq has sworn an oath to take down the Lord of the Radch, Anaander Mianaai. Through gradual flashbacks, the reader comes to realize the motivations for this goal – and also the true enormity of the task.

I cannot wait for the sequel! (Although this book does end at a perfectly satisfactory and conclusive point.)

Recommended for fans of both Iain Banks and Ursula LeGuin.
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LibraryThing member MartinWisse
Taken from My booklog.

It’s funny how you don’t notice how ingrained gender is until you get your nose rubbed in it. In Ancillary Justice, Ann Leckie makes it clear by the third page that when her protagonist Breq uses “she” and “her” she uses it as a neutral pronoun, yet unless I paid
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close attention or Leckie explicitly outed a character as male, I kept thinking of every character she meets as female. That’s I think a response more readers will have, as we’re just not used to thinking of the female form as universal; traditonally it has always been “he” or “him”, or something like singular “they” for those of us aware that the male isn’t actually universal. It may seem like a too clever writing trick, a clumpsy attempt at showing the reader the gender assumptions build into the very language we use, but I don’t think this is actually what Leckie had in mind. What it does instead is establishing the fundamental strangeness of Breq herself even before we learn she’s the last remaining component of a thousands years old warship’s AI.

That consistent use of “she” and “her” foregrounds the difference of the Radchaai culture Breq comes from. It’s a bit of unexplained strangeness that tells a lot about their society, culture and history, most importantly that the Radchaai are inherently matriarchal in the same way most if not all actually existing human societies are patriarchal. But there’s more going on with Breq’s gender blindness, as other Radchaai seem to have far less trouble differiating between men and women, even if they use the same pronouns for both. Meanwhile Breq not only has pronoun troubles, she also has trouble remembering which secondary sexual characteristics are male and which are female. It’s this that singles her out as not quite human.

As it turns out, Breq is only the last remaining fragment of One Esk, which used to convince of some twenty ancillaries, these being the depersonalised bodies of Radchaai enemies converted to housing an AI submind. One Esk herself was just one part of the warship Justice of Toren, which has thousands of ancillaries — though most are deep frozen until needed — alongside its Radchaai crew. Breq’s memory, as One Esk, goes back thousands of years, most of which was spent conquering and “civilising” various non-Radchaai systems.

The Radchaai, it seems, are not very nice, an expansive interstellar empire busy assimiliating every other human system and have done so seemingly forever. In an offhand mention halfway through Ancillary Justice it’s explained that all this is done to protect the mother system, a giant Dyson Sphere at the heart of the Radchaai Empire, whose inhabitants are barely aware of the outside universe. It’s an interesting idea for a galactic empire, reminiscent of the popular imagination of what the Roman Empire was like. The Radchaai method of operation is to attack and conquer other human systems, subvert or kill its rulers, crush resistance, then offer the remaining, docile population membership in the empire.

Ancillaries like One Esk/Breq play a large role in this subjugation/pacification, unhesitantly obeying orders of their (human) officiers but without all the messy rape and abuse of human soldiers. To non-Radchaai meanwhile they’re objects of fear and loathing, being after all the converted bodies of previous victims of Radchaai expansion.

When we first meet Breq she’s on a quest of vengeance against those in the Radchaai empire who killed her, killed One Esq, having been a singleton for nineteen years when the story opens. In Ancillary Justice‘s second storyline we learn how this murder came to pass, as the story goes nineteen years back in time, to One Esq’s last posting in a backwater city on a newly pacified world. In essence then, this is a colonial murder/revenge story.

The colonial revenge story is one that’s somewhat old fashioned these days, now that western countries don’t really don’t have colonies anymore, just some protectorates and overseas departments it doesn’t do too much good to look too closely at. But they used to be a thing in the twentieth century, stories about murders that the colonial justice system couldn’t handle because they were perpetrated by those at the heart of it, to those who were the least protected by it, leaving no other option than to go outside it to get justice. It’s of course impossible to have true justice in a colonial situation, as colonism depends on declaring some peoples second class, non-citizes, slaves or sub alterns. One Esk is the latter, a willing tool of the oppressor because she literally cannot be anything but. What shook her so hard that her programming failed is what at the heart of Ancillary Justice‘s plot.

As a whole though, it’s so much more than that. Leckie is a brilliantly evokative writer and Ancillary Justice was one of those novels I couldn’t wait to finish yet didn’t want to end. She has a great eye for the telling detail; for example I loved the way she had One Esk sing to herself. If you have twenty bodies to sing with, why wouldn’t you? Yet she’s the only such ancillary to do so…

I’d only heard of Ancillary Justice or Ann Leckie when I read Ian Sales’ review. At the time she was new enough not to have a Wikipedia page. In his review he mentioned that Leckie had a lot of buzz behind her, similar to Kameron Hurley with her first book, but I was skeptical. If it was so good, why hadn’t I heard of it before? However, Sales’ review was enthusiastic enough to get me to try it for myself and now I know why Leckie deserved the buzz. She’s nominated for a Clarke Award; I hope she gets it.
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LibraryThing member languagehat
I was initially intrigued by the use of female pronouns for everyone, but while that's very effective in usefully disorienting the reader, it's only a tiny piece of what makes the book worth reading. Like all great literature, it's about life and death, destiny and free will, love and hate, and
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ultimately what makes us human. It does all that in a way that's specific to sf and yet resonates with real-life experience much the way Tolstoy does. I was originally reluctant to get into the first part of a trilogy, but now I can't wait for the sequel. Best novel I've read in quite a while.
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LibraryThing member ScoLgo
This is my type of story. A slowly revealing and satisfyingly complex plot. A remarkably unique protagonist with a startling past. Strictly multi-layered societal structures. Political intrigue. Interstellar empires. All laid out for the reader via the ground-floor viewpoint of Breq, the
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aforementioned protagonist.

There is just so much going on here that, in the hands of a lesser story-teller, this might have been a complete mess. Leckie, however, does a great job of holding it all together while peeling things back one layer at a time to reveal a larger and larger picture.

One of my favorite aspects is the concept of the ancillaries and how well that worked as a mechanism for shifting the viewpoint from first-person to omniscient and back again. There is one scene, during a riot, that is incredibly written, taking full advantage of the multiple viewpoints afforded by the ancillaries.

My couple of quibbles are; first with the gender thing... It's very interesting but not fully fleshed out. The concept remained somewhat confusing throughout the book. However, it was also confusing for the protagonist so perhaps that was the point? The other issue I had was with the lack of development of the aliens. I have high hopes that they will play a larger role in the sequel(s).

This was a great book for me and I'm looking forward to more from Leckie.
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LibraryThing member LizzieD
Many thanks, Early Reviewers, for an opportunity to read this fresh, engaging piece of science fiction! Since my first foray into the Culture novels of Iain M. Banks, I have been intrigued by the personality of a ship's mind. The main character of this one,a troop carrier called Justice of Toren,
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is fascinating. She/It (it doesn't matter, as other reviewers have remarked about Leckie's playing with gender identification) is the remaining ancillary unit after a catastrophe wiped out the rest of the ship. (An ancillary is, by the way, the body of an enemy soldier frozen, revived, and slaved to the ship's AI.) Breq, who was once the ship and also a soldier, One Esk Nineteen, has been pursuing a self-imposed mission, passing for human. She rescues a human who had served on Justice of Toren, Seivarden Vendaai, who wasn't one of her favorites, and the two maintain an uneasy relationship through book.
I was attracted and repelled by Breq's personality in about equal measure. I think Leckie made her a good balance between human and machine. Seivarden was a little less easy to relate to. The joy of the book, though, is the exploration of a mind and a culture divided against itself. The Radchaai culture is lovingly and meticulously detailed, and that is a joy too.
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LibraryThing member KarenIrelandPhillips
This multi-layered story weaves finely-drawn personalities, rebellion, religion, brutality, humor, music and angst into - well, Scalzi said it best - a "compelling and very cool" story. I'm not sure that I can do it justice, no pun intended.

"What does it mean to be human?" is the question that
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permeates and propels the narrative. Is one human if she was a ship and now has only one human body? If she has many bodies? If she cares for others, or is a conniving oligarch?
"Ancillary" is defined as "a subordinate part or element ". The protagonist is ancillary to the Radchaai, an empire bent on conquest and "annexation". She is also tied into the bodies and brains of her human and "ancillary" (bodies resurrected and amended by tech) soldiers, the whole of them creating the warship Justice of Toren.
When Justice of Toren comes under attack by her own government, one small part of the ship escapes, as an ancillary soldier. Breq is isolated, keenly aware of her losses, and out for justice. (The back cover blurb calls her goal "vengeance", but it's far more convoluted than that.)
Her quest begins with a gravely damaged companion, acquaintances who impact her in ways that increase her humanity, and a final battle that I had to slow down and re-read (shades of CJ Cherryh's penultimate scenes) to understand. I think.
Finally, the issue of gender threads itself into the story, and into the consciousness of the reader. By the end of the tale I hardly noticed - but I'd be interested in hearing if male readers find the same distancing by the use of the female pronoun as I do every day by the ubiquitous use of the male pronoun in US culture.
I was intrigued and challenged by this novel. Every once in a while I thought that the author had thrown in every huge issue it was possible to explore. I'll be re-reading it - while I drool for the sequels.
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LibraryThing member AlanPoulter
A memorable first novel. A rescue of a burned out ex-soldier, now junkie, builds slowly towards a clash with the ruthless powers that run a star-spanning empire in the far future. It is at core the story of a soldier's revenge for being used, but the pretty much exclusive use of the female gender
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works to keep things wrong-footing the reader. The use of people as slaved parts of war machines adds a level of cold horror to what is at heart an old-fashioned space opera.
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LibraryThing member lycomayflower
I don't think I'll try to explain what this sci-fi novel is about, as I'm sure others have already done so and I'm blanking a bit on how to go about it without spoiling the great pleasure it is to slowly figure out what is going on and how the world in the book works. You have to sit with a lot of
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confusion for quite a while in the beginning, but eventually it all starts to come together, and that's great. Excellent world building here, fascinating characters, and the way Leckie makes the reader interrogate gender by using only female pronouns throughout most of the book (the language, presented to the reader as English, the main character and narrator speaks does not mark for gender) is compelling and really well done. Recommended.

***For Book Clu
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LibraryThing member antao
Warning: Rant follows.

Knowledgeable responses to SF require a certain apprenticeship; it’s impossible to approach SF criticism without a certain familiarity with many SF texts. Just as a wonderfully articulate casual reader cannot simply pick up “The Divine Comedy” or “The Name of the
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Rose” and begin a nuanced enjoyment of both books, a SF newbie must work her or his way into the specialized narrative structures and vocabulary of SF. The gender treatment belongs to the category.


You can find the rest of this review on my blog.
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LibraryThing member fred_mouse
*this review may contain spoilers*

I adored this book, from the ways that it explores identity through the plotting and the world building, the story, the everything. Slow moving at the beginning, I wasn't sure that I quite understood what was going on. Things became clearer when I started to
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understand who the viewpoint character is, and more importantly, what they used to be -- a multiply bodied individual where all awarenesses were intertwined.

A sweeping space opera that early on has a focus on the perspective of a coloniser of the way that colonisation happens (ie. there is some amount of self-awareness about what is happening to the people, but at times coloured with how much Good this is doing people). From there, an exploration of who is in charge, who is giving the orders, a narrowing down of the story at times to survival of the protagonist. By halfway through the book I never wanted to put it down, I never wanted it to end, and I wanted to know everything Right Now.

Looking forward to having time to read the subsequent books in the series.
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LibraryThing member bobholt
A sci-fi road trip that reminds me of Gene Wolfe's The Book of the New Sun.

Leckie's approach of writing about a genderless culture using only feminine pronouns (and eventually nouns) is initially disorienting, especially when combined with wrapping one's head around the concept of One Esk's
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multiplicity. Eventually, it becomes just a part of the story, albeit one that causes the reader to consider their own perceptions of gender in culture and fiction.
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LibraryThing member kvrfan
Given that this novel won SF's grand slam of awards this year--the Hugo and Nebula, as well as the British awards--I was eager to read it.

I certainly am impressed by Leckie's imaginative world-building. For that she gets an A . So imaginative, and in many ways so alien. Gender plays no relevance in
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social roles, and because it makes no difference, it's just taken-for-granted that, male or female, everyone is referred to by female pronouns and no one remarks about it. AI literally rules, as the sovereign ruler is manifested in countless clones all interconnected by a collective intelligence. The novel's protagonist is an "ancillary"--one of many soldiers linked to a military, "justice"-class ship, whose own intelligence they carry. (Does that sound alien enough?)

For all the success Leckie achieves in this regard, the novel nonetheless left me somewhat cold. Maybe it was because of their very alien-ness that I found myself unable to relate very well to the characters. Some awful things happen to our protagonist, the worst being that she remains the sole survivor of her collective. That drives her to seek revenge on the responsible, but the sort of sudden utter isolation she experiences would, I think, plunged her into a profound existential crisis. But she shows little of that. Perhaps that is part of her nature as an ancillary--a re-engineered being linked to the central intelligence who maybe simultaneously had her emotion wiped from her. But why then seek revenge? Why should she care her counterparts had been wiped out.

The other big collective intelligence in the story--that of the ruler--evidences an enormous internal conflict, a war against itself. But how did that happen?

It's really an interesting concept: self-aware beings get collectivized into an common consciousness, but then elements among them become self-aware again. Or maybe the roots of their self-awareness never got pulled out?

I guess I just would have become more absorbed in the characters if I could have seen them engaging with more internal wrestling over these issues themselves.

This is the first book in a trilogy. Will we see more of this in the sequels?
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LibraryThing member Tuirgin
Let's have tea, copious amounts of tea, and tell stories about identity, personhood, individuality, and community. We can touch on colonialism and power dynamics, gender and sexuality, duty and the competing demands of personal responsibility and agency. When we're tired we can take a break and
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have some more tea.

***

It's interesting to me how in the confusion of gender that occurs in this book, how much my mind struggled to sort it out. Eventually I gave up (mostly) but was still intrigued by how my imagination would shift the gender of the imagined characters from moment to moment, even for characters who's gender was explicitly stated. Certainly it says something about gender preconceptions and the power of gender stereotypes in our interpretation of a story. And that should give us pause to consider how our various preconceptions (many of which may be hidden to us) affect our interpretation of the world around us.

As interesting as the storytelling makes gender issues (along with numerous other issues), this is not a didactic novel. It doesn't preach or come out with a magisterial pronouncement of the proper understanding of these problems. What it does, quite effectively, is to create the occasion and circumstances needed for consideration. And it does this without belaboring the story.
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LibraryThing member irapearson
I guess I'm going to be politically incorrect in this review. I would have enjoyed this novel a lot more if not for the ridiculous gender pronoun gimmick that everyone else seems to be praising. It was pointless and intrusive and completely overshadowed everything else that was good about Ancillary
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Justice. It would have been so much more interesting if all of the characters were genuinely female.

There were good things about Ancillary Justice, but I'm not going to mention any of them here because none of it matters. I will not be reading the rest of the trilogy.
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LibraryThing member ladycato
This is the book I've heard the most Nebula buzz about this year, so it's one I wanted to be sure to read. Ancillary Justice is pure space opera and a definite homage to golden age science. The world-building is deep here, so deep that it's confusing at times; I confess I never did completely
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understand the gender differentiation (or lack thereof) in society and could never be sure how to picture people, though I like the default to "she" rather than "he."

The main character is a difficult one to relate to because of what she is. She is a reanimated corpse installed with AI, and she was once part of a crew of other ancillaries as part of a hive-mind of a space ship. They could all see through each others' eyes, experience what the others in the connection experienced... while at the same time retaining a few of their own quirks. Breq happens to enjoy singing and humming.

I was intrigued by the book. Its pace is slow to start as the conflict is largely psychological, but it speeds up halfway through. It's not my favorite read for the year, but I can see why it's garnered so much attention. There's a lot of cool stuff going on here and it's a solid start for a new series.
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LibraryThing member zjakkelien
Quite a few people in the SF and fantasy groups on Librarything were quite enthusiastic about this book, and I have to say, they were right! This book is really excellent. It's very original, with one of the more unusual and sympathetic protagonists I have seen in a while. The main character Breq
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used to be part of an artificial intelligence that controlled both a ship and many so-called ancillaries, human bodies. Throughout the book we find out why this being's consciousness now resides solely in one of her ancillaries, what her life used to be like, and what her current self-imposed mission is. The story itself is intriguing all on its own, but it is definitely enhanced by the main character. Breq is loyal, persistent, smart and brave. I loved her in her old state, when she had twenty bodies and was part of a ship with many more bodies at the same time. It was quite interesting to see what it would be like to have that many pairs of eyes, and the loyalty she feels towards her luitenant comes across in all her actions. I was quite tickled to see how she would subtly express her preference for certain people when back aboard the ship. On the other hand, when Breq just has the one body, it seems the strangeness of her character comes across more.
One of the funny quirks of Breq's society is that they don't distinguish between men and woman in their language and their expression of self. As a result, Breq is mostly unable to recognize the difference between a man and a woman. As a result, when she speaks to someone in a language that does recognize gender, she has to guess it. When she speaks Radchaai (her own language), everyone is simply called 'she'. As a result, it is practically impossible to know who is male and who is female in this story. In my mind, a few of the people have gender, but I'm not sure I'm always correct. The funny things is that it is not disturbing at all.

Overall, I thought this was a really good book, and I recommend it to anyone who is even mildly interested in SF.
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LibraryThing member Strider66
Pros: fascinating premise, thought provoking, hard SF

Cons: Seivarden’s personality changes a lot

Twenty years ago she was Justice of Toren, the artificial intelligence of a Radchaai spaceship with thousands of ancillary units at her command. Now she is simply Breq, a single ancillary. Her mission:
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to destroy the entity that reduced her to her present state.

This is a fascinating novel. It’s predominantly told in chapters alternating between Breq’s present and what happened 20 years ago when One Esk was stationed in the newly annexed city of Ors.

I liked the idea that the Radchaai language had no genderization (he/she), so Breq finds it difficult to determine the genders of people when speaking other languages, often guessing wrong. The use of ‘she’ in the book for everyone made me question my own preoccupation with gender, as I first tried to figure out what gender all the characters were, with some difficulty. As the book wore on, I finally gave up, even though the correct genders for several characters were stated. Once I got used to the idea that the character’s gender didn’t matter, I found it oddly liberating not caring about what gender everyone was and simply appreciating the characters for their actions.

There were several quotes that spoke to me in the book, like this one by Breq about the actions of her ancillaries and officers who participated in a genocide:

“It’s easy to say that if you were there you would have refused, that you would rather die than participate in the slaughter, but it all looks very different when it’s real, when the moment comes to choose.” (p. 114, ebook edition)

The book definitely makes you think about identity and choices.

While there are jump gates to facilitate and speed up space travel, the book is hard SF in that it still takes a long time to get places. While you won’t find detailed explanations of how the ship and station AIs work, there is enough information about it to create a good backdrop for the rest of the book.

While there is a plot, it’s the character of Breq/One Esk that carries the book. She’s such a fascinating figure that you read on just to find out more about her and her past.

I’m not sure I believed the extent of Seivarden’s transformation from highborn snob to what he becomes at the end of the book, but I did appreciate what he went through and could see how such events would change a person a lot.

The ending was exciting and satisfying given what’s happened in the story. It’s open enough for the coming sequel but does stand on its own.

I highly recommend this book.
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LibraryThing member tottman
Science fiction is about ideas, and Ann Leckie has a lot of them in Ancillary Justice. It’s an exciting debut novel and earning a lot of praise. It’s ambitious in its scale and in challenging the way you think.

I’d read a lot about Ancillary Justice before I picked it up. Most notably the
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exclusive use of the female pronoun. I found it distracting, especially at first, to find everyone referred to as “she”. It did, however, make me think. What were my expectations of how someone should speak or act or think or feel based on their gender? How does separating those thoughts or action from gender motivations affect the story? It did make me look at the story in a fresh way.

Ancillary Justice is also the story of a fractured consciousness, once living in thousands of bodies and ships simultaneously, now residing in a single body. The book explores from several angles the dependence and integration of biology and artificial intelligence as well as what it means when a mind is divided against itself. It looks at how a world dependent on conformity looks at those who are different.

This book is also an examination of the sort of atrocities that get overlooked, both by individuals and by social institutions because they have existed for a long time and because people are uncomfortable with the changes that would come about with a change to the status quo.

Ancillary Justice throws you into the deep end and only gradually explains itself as the book progresses. I found it slow in the beginning but it gradually picked up the pace. None of the characters are particularly likable and their motivations are not always fully explained, at least not in this first book of an intended series.

I wish the book had been a little more exciting or had more engaging characters. That being said, I can’t remember the last book that’s made me think this much or been as rich in ideas and concepts. You could fill at least another book with theories and exploration of what this book means. Ann Leckie has been richly and rightfully praised for this debut novel, and with a Hugo nomination, more acclaim may be in her future. If you enjoy “the big idea” and novels that make you think, Ancillary Justice is a must. It’s an excellent choice for book club or other discussion. Highly recommended.

I was fortunate to receive an advance copy of this book.
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LibraryThing member sdobie
Breq is the last remaining “ancillary” of the AI warship Justice of Toren. Ancillaries are once human bodies that have had their original personalities wiped out and are controlled by AI’s as the fighting forces of the the galactic empire The Radch. After the Justice of Toren was destroyed,
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Breq was left to seek revenge as the only remaining part of the ship’s intelligence.

One of the more enjoyable science fiction novels I have read recently. The character of Breq is well done, as a not-really-human being who has to pass in human society. The depiction of the gender-neutral Radch society is interesting as well. In addition to the ideas, the story moves along nicely with a good amount of action. I will be looking forward to the sequel.
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LibraryThing member jdifelice
4.5/5 stars
I was wowed by this book.

The beginning is a little confusing because you aren't given much information, but slowly, the story unfolds. This book is written so well, and I loved the world building and how the author decided to show us this world. It was nice to be challenged for once.
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The author leaves it up to the reader to figure some things out on their own and interpret what is given to them, I liked using my brain. The intricacies of Breq/One Esk's character was lovely. I loved how gender pronouns are used in this book and how it doesn't really matter if a character is male or female - what they do and how they conduct themselves is what counts. This story was woven beautifully and I can't wait to pick up the next book. Sci fi is quickly becoming one of my favourite genres.
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Awards

Hugo Award (Nominee — Novel — 2014)
Nebula Award (Nominee — Novel — 2013)
Locus Award (Finalist — First Novel — 2014)
Philip K. Dick Award (Nominee — 2013)

Language

Original language

English

Original publication date

2013-10-01

Physical description

8.25 inches

ISBN

031624662X / 9780316246620
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