WARNING: SECOND BOOK SLUMP ALERT. I’m having flashbacks of the Ancillary series all over again. No, no, NO! You can’t make me relive that, you can’t, I won’t, NO!
Hey, hey, calm down there self, calm down, it’s not that bad. *pats self on back* There, there. Have a juice box. Pomegranate. Yummy. And good for prostate cancer. Maybe a cookie too. Yes, a cookie will make it all right. And remember, it’s just a book.
Whew, got a little nonplussed there. Funny word that, nonplussed, bit of an autoantonym, actually. It means you’re so disturbed that you act totally calm and bemused. Kind of like if you take a Lovecraftian horror response - insanity in the face of incomprehensibility - and sprinkled some glitter on it. That’s nonplussed. That’s how this book makes me feel.
It’s like I encountered one of the Elder Gods, but the Elder God was My Little Pony. Ha ha okay I jest. Kinda. Actually, specifically, the Elder God is this aesthetic/style that’s become popular - or at least award winning - in sci-fi and fantasy lately. If I had to describe this aesthetic in one word, it’d be, hmm, self-righteousness. A broad term, but I think it’s pretty good.
It is this utter confidence that you are on the righteous path and that anyone who disputes you is wrong and evil. And incompetent. Best throw that in there too.
Now I’m not a big fan of self-righteousness as a personality trait. In fact, I’m pretty sure most evil is committed by self-righteous people. They’re doing evil for their children’s sake, or for God, or for posterity, or etc. You know how it is. Self-righteousness as a writing style isn’t that bad, but it has plenty of problems of its own, the exploration of which will involve spoilers. Consider that your spoiler warning.
See, in fiction, conflict is the heart of plot. No conflict? No plot. And the problem with the self-righteous aesthetic - regardless of the underlying ideology - is that it doesn’t leave room for the protagonists to doubt themselves. No internal conflict. And because competency is so closely tied with morality, it doesn’t leave much room for failure either. No external conflict.
Where does that leave us? A book without much plot.
So I finished Raven Strategm about a week ago and if you asked me to describe to you the plot, I would honestly struggle to do so. Really. But here we go, I’m going to try:
Jedao/Cheris alters the calendar of the Hexarchate Empire.
What’s missing from that summary? Any conflict, any struggle, any doubt. Because there is none. Which is why we don’t even get her PoV, because there wasn’t even anything to write there.
Instead here’s the main PoVs we get:
General Khiruev has the best plot of the three since we have an early element of internal conflict, and she’s commanding the swarm trying to fight an enemy invader. So there’s actual conflict in this PoV. But it’s not well done. The internal conflict is neatly resolved “off page” for the most part. And resolution of the external conflict largely involves Jedao/Cheris arriving at the last minute and saying, “Oh hey, do this magical manuever and everything will work out!”
Psychopathic (except…not? I don’t know, the book doesn’t have a strong grasp of non-conformist psychology, despite most characters being written as such) Brezan gets arrested, plays patty-cake with a couple of spy-types, randomly gets promoted to High General in what may be the worst plan I’ve ever seen, flies around on the spaceship version of the Gaylord Opryland Hotel while having boring passionless sex, and then immediately fails his mission. He did all this because… *pauses* …wait a second, why exactly did he do any of this? Honestly, I don’t know.
Shuos Hexarch Mikodez sits at his desk, eats cookies, and takes care of a green onion…? I mean, I LIKE this guy BUT FOR THE LOVE OF PLOT, SHOW HIM DOING SOMETHING. I DON’T CARE ABOUT HIM HAVING SEX WITH HIS TWIN BROTHER AND EATING SWEETS. LESS MASTICATION, MORE MACHINATION.
And you can be sure that there’s no counter-perspective to the anti-establishment themes present in this book (and in all such novels of the self-righteous aesthetic). Not that I’m suggesting we shouldn’t shatter an empire that employs formalized torture, but there’s also good reasons not to start a civil war? Surely someone might bring some of them up, maybe? As part of an actual argument, not just some throwaway line easily dismissed? Maybe even a PoV from a good person ON THE OTHER SIDE? Because those do exist. Or at least some examples of the supposed good guys directly harming innocents with their war mongering and anarchy - as at least the first book had? Even better: develop an actual character so there’s a real sense of loss and complexity when they fall as a result of the “good” guys?!
But such complexities will not be countenanced by the self-righteous aesthetic, which cannot accept any validity of the opposing perspective. While the Ninefox Gambit and Revenant Gun do a much better job of avoiding the worst pitfalls of this aesthetic, Raven Strategm is a prime example of it. For me at least, that made the reading experience tedious.
In fact, it was tedious enough that, if you asked me to give a thumbs up or a thumbs down for the whole series, I’d have to give it a thumbs down. It’s… frustrating that this is the path sci-fi & fantasy has taken. I’m all for politics and philosophy and gender explorations to be part of sci-fi, and I keep picking up these highly decorated books expecting such. But then it’s simply not there. The politics, philosophy, and so on are not interrogative, but declarative. They’re not explorations, they’re pronouncements of righteousness, without even a plot to make them fun to read.