Reading roundup
55. Lois McMaster Bujold, Memory -- I put off reading this one intentionally, because I expected it to be tough. And it was... Miles falsifying that report had me going, "No! don't go there, Miles!" and the scene with Illyan, when Miles is discharged, damn near broke my heart, with Miles being afraid he would start crying and especially when Miles saw the tears in Illyan's eyes. Miles casting adrift after that is also really painful. Add to that Galeni's heartbreak (ok, I'm not sure it was strictly speaking heartbreak, since with Galeni it's a bit hard to tell how much his heart was involved, but it was still really painful). And then, of course, the really terrible thing happens -- Illyan's breakdown, and the awful state he is in, which... It's painful and humiliating and terrifying, and watching it through Miles's eyes is awful, and even the fact that a lot of it is not described, just kind of elided, only makes it worse, something too terrible to witness fully. It reminded me, after some casting about, of the scene in HBP where Harry makes Dumbledore drink the poison in the cave (only not overwritten and melodramatic, and thus much more powerful. And it lasts for a lot longer.) You expect mentors to die, at a certain point. You don't expect to see them broken, destoryed, begging for death.
Illyan's breakdown was by far the worst part, and once the chip was out of his head and he was recovering (however lost temporarily) I definitely breathed a sigh of relief. But then, of course, there's the thing with Galeni being accused of treason (and poor, poor Galeni -- it is fascinating to watch him suffer, so he gets put through a lot of it), and then Miles "wrestling with temptation," and then -- and this was actually still painful -- figuring out the culprit was Haroche and the trap, arrest, confession. Thing is, I *liked* Haroche. I liked him the same way I liked Commodore Destang in Brothers in Arms -- as a competent ImpSec man, not necessarily on Miles's side but dedicated to serving the Emperor and fair and smart. When he started calling Miles by his name I was sort of touched, although it was difficult not to suspect something by the bribe scene. And then there's the arrest, and that really felt very poignant:
[Allegre:] "Lucas, are you going to give me any trouble?"
"I think...not." sighed Haroche. [...] "I'm too old to be that athletic anymore."
"Good. Me too." Allegre escorted him out.
Although by now I think Galeni's bypassed Gregor on my list of favorite characters, I still really like Gregor, and it was quite wonderful to see him light up in Laisa's presence, and the elaborate pony show for her benefit, especially if, as Miles suspected, he was trying to cop a feel when helping her mount. It's just really nice to see him (relatively) relaxed and having fun for a change -- sort of the lighter side of the "reserved, controlled character showing cracks" thing I was talking about with Galeni in Brothers in Arms. I wasn't bowled over by Laisa myself, though she seemed perfectly pleasant, so it was a little odd to see both Gregor and Galeni so head-over-heels over her. But then there's also the quietly enraged Gregor who elicits Haroche's confession, and that was neat, too: "'Sit down, Lucas,' said Gregor, so quietly Miles had to strain to hear. [...] 'General Haroche,' Gregor went on, 'I wanted you to give me your last report in person. You owe me that, and for the thirty years of service you have given me -- nearly my whole life, my whole reign -- I owe you that.'" and "Miles had seen Gregor quietly socially charming, quietly bravura-fey, quietly desperate, quietly determined. He'd never seen him quietly angry. It was impressive, a weight all around like deep seawater." And Gregor when he appoints Miles temporary auditor: "'But Gregor -- Haroche will know it's a scam.' Gregor's voice went soft. 'Then Haroche will be dangerously mistaken.'" These are the sort of scenes for which I find Gregor an interesting character.
And Galeni was marvelous too: "'You smarmy goddamn little pimp,' said Galeni, in a dead-level voice. [...] 'And you goddamn Barrayaran thieves stick together, all right. You and your fucking precious Emperor and the whole damned pack of you.'" And, of course: "'Goddammit, Vorkosigan, where were you all this time?' 'Ah...' Miles ticked his Auditor's chain, to remind Galeni he was still on duty. Galeni snapped, 'Goddammit, my Lord Auditor, where the hell were you all this time? You said last night you'd follow on. Thought you were going to let me out. Then I ddin't know what the hell to think. I'm quitting this frigging paranoid stupid organization just as soon as I get out of this rat tank. No more."
This is all not to say that the book was all completely dark. I enjoyed the lighter moments of it very much: Miles attempting to play matchmaker to Duv and Laisa, Miles and Illyan going fishing, first Miles and then Ivan discovering about Illyan and Alys (and Cordelia's take on the matter), Miles's whole bachelor lifestyle.
Actually, I like Illyan in general, and it was neat to see so much of him, even if he was not fully himself through a lot of the book. (And, even in the depths of his breakdown, it was neat to learn that he fights dirty and uses barracks language when not in control of himself. Oh, and that he used to return Miles's reports with snarky edits for grammar and style :). And I like Alys, too. And, heh, this line (talking about her fruitless attempts to get Ivan settled): "A certain nameless with, or half-wit, even whispered I ought to start trying boys, but I pointed out that would not solve the heir problem, which is the whole point of the exercise in the first place."
And the Aral/Cordelia moment, all of three sentences long, totally made me melt. ("The Count exchanged a hard hug with the Countess, half-dislodging the flowers from her hair, as if it had been a year instead of weeks since they'd parted on Sergyar. A little "Ah" of pleasure rumbled in his chest, like a man eased of some burden. 'I trust,' he said to his wife, holding her at arm's length and devouring her with his eyes, etc."
And I was pleased to see further evidence of Ivan's competence, such as when he babysits Miles ("'Did I ask for an argument? Did you hear me ask for a Betan vote, Duv?' Galeni, watching in fascination, shook his head.'" -- let's just say it's lovely to see Ivan get to boss Miles around for a change :D). Skipping Brothers and Arms and Memory up until now, definitely caused me to have a less flattering view of Ivan than he properly deserves, and I'm glad to have finished remedying this now.
Oh, and I kind of liked Weddell, too: "A little bug that eats things." :)
I wish there had been more of Galeni and Delia's courtship in this book, partly because I would have loved to see more Galeni, and partly because I want to see just how big a brick, and what kind, it took. :)
Quotes:
"It wasn't fair, for people to go and change on him, while his back was turned being dead. To change without giving notice, or even asking permission." (I feel for you, Miles...)
"It expanded my world view, ever after. Money, power, sex... and elephants" (Illyan talking about what motivates people.)
"Love, it seemed, was not only contagious, it was aggressively contagious."
"Finance seemed simply delighted that somebody cared, and threatened to go on forever. Miles fought his way clear of the spreadsheets, and escaped." (So true of my interactions with Finance, too...)
"I think I could do almost anything I had to do, if you ordered it, Gregor" -- totally pinged my Miles/Gregor sense :)
And I loved this quote towards the very end, for the thwarted meta-ness of it: "Ceremoniously, [Miles] selected a bottle of his grandfathers oldest and rarest. Upon opening it, he discovered it was going more than a bit off. He considered drinking it anyway, for the symbolism's sake. Then, decisively, he dumped it down the bathroom sink in his new suite and went back for a bottle from a much more recent batch that he knew to be very good."
So, overall -- I liked this book a whole lot, although it cannot be my favorite because of all the grim, painful parts of it. After I finished it, I didn't feel like starting any of the other books waiting for me (though I have done so now), and instead just started re-reading Komarr. I'd love to get my hands on A Civil Campaign now, which was the first Miles book I read, and re-read it now that I actually know who all of these people are and all their background and mutual histories.
58. Lois McMaster Bujold, Komarr (reread) -- I am enjoying this book much more this go-around, with the background of more Vorkosigan books and especially building on the life-changing Memory. I kept picking up all these references to other things, including The Vor Game (cold climates and forensic plumbing), and other things that I hadn't read at the time when I first read Komarr. The biggest difference is, I think, in how I'm viewing the budding Miles/Ekaterin. I think that the first time around, when I was reading for plot, I mainly wanted to get to the Miles POV chapters, where stuff was happening. I liked Ekaterin OK, but had a hard time empathisizing with her, and didn't find her very compelling as a character. I found her much more interesting this time -- it might help that I'm her age now, and have kids closer in age to hers, I don't know. Or just the fact that I'm reading more slowly and focusing on the relationship more, since I know how the plot turns out.
I still find it difficult to understand how Ekaterin could have put up with Tien for so long. I know it's realistic, and reinforced by her Barrayaran sensibilities, and then there's that whole learned childhood thing about turning yourself to stone as a means of defense, but still. No way would I have put up with the kind of treatment from my husband, and so it's difficult for me to understand how an intelligent, obviously capable person like Ekaterin would... for so long and so quietly. But her thoughts while Tien is alive are heartbreaking and very effective for all that I can't empathize with her choices. "Was it stalking, when it was your own husband?" is perfectly chilling, and all the efforts to defuse Tien, everything, basically.
And I have to say, I like the way Tien's character is handled. He is not a monster, he is human, but there is almost nothing sympathetic in him (except that his brother -- and father, presumably -- dealt him a pretty shitty hand as well, by hiding the Vorzohn Dystrophy from him), and yet he is too pathetic to be outright hated. I thought he elicited just the right kind of feeling from the reader. And Ekaterin's view of him is quite interesting ("He does love me, in some inept way"). The one thing I didn't feel, which I think you're supposed to, is that Tien is scary. But maybe that's just because I've been lucky enough not to have any first-hand experience with the Tiens of this world. But back to Ekaterin and Miles.
I think it helps that by now I've read about Miles's relationship with Elli and Taura that I can tell how much more grown-up the budding relationship with Ekaterin is. The thing I really like, which I either wasn't familiar enough with the Vorkosiverse or wasn't paying enough attention to pick up on first read-through, is the way Miles and Ekaterin see each other. It's very sweet, actually. Miles sees Ekaterin as an independent entity, her own person. This is pretty notable, actually, because with all his other love interests he is quite possessive. It's a very Vorish sort of possessiveness, with the claims going both ways, and it makes sense, since Elli and Taura are his troops (as well as having the personal claims of Elli taking plasma arc fire for him and him "giving" her a new face, and Taura being one of his rescue missions) and Elena is his armsman's daughter and so there's true Vor allegiance there. There's none of that with Ekaterin, and I think that makes the relationship healthy, much more "equal". Also, while Miles clearly has a penchant for Amazons, not least, I'm guessing, because Cordelia was a bit of an action hero in her own right, when it comes to her relationship with Miless, the Countess actually tends to be very calm and still (which Memory really highlighted), and so the quiet Ekaterin is actually a better match for that sort of dynamic than Miles's previous action girls. And, of course, Ekaterin is true Vor and thus understands some fundamental things about Miles's deepest morals much better than spacer Elli could, or even Barrayaran-but-not-Vor Elena. They are a good match.
And Miles's eagerness to play white knight for her is just cute (vanquishing creditors by calling in Colonel Gibbs, e.g., or making the difficulty with legal guardianship go away at the clinic), as is her outside look at even a fairly subdued Miles, his obsession with planets, his approach to gift-giving, etc. And Miles is simply adorable with Nikki, playing with his ships and comparins scars/scabs, and then talking him out of the bathroom. And Ekaterin sees him as "goofy" -- well, "almost goofy", but that's quite acurate. And this, when they're being all 'Honey, I'm home' around the dinner table: "This mind-melting mixture of lust and domesticity was entirely novel to him. Well, half-novel: he knew how to handle lust. It was the domesticity that had ambushed his guard." And this actually made me laugh out loud: "You know, you're the first girlfr-- female friend I've had I've ever succeeded in giving Barrayar to. Not for lack of trying." They are just really cute together, and Miles is just adorable when he's been hit over the head with love.
A few things still bother me, not so much in her thoughts as in Miles's reactions (but this time I'm more willing to write them off as POV character bias than as authorial intent). The fact that Nikki was a body birth, for example. The first time I read Komarr, I think I'd only recently given birth to O, and was still in the post-pregnancy glow, and it bugged me that it seemed implied that a uterine replicator was always better than a body birth. Now, I can actually wonder which I would choose, assuming replicator technology was advanced enough to be quite safe. I'm pretty sure I would go for genetic screening in utero, but still the body birth route (and yes, obviously I don't have Betan cultural bias against it, as Miles has inherited from Cordelia). Because there is definitely something about carrying a child inside you, feeling the kicks and rolls -- it's certainly not *necessary* to a parental bond, but it is precious, and I wouldn't trade it away unless there was an actual/suspected risk and not just because some kind of risk might come up. (Both of my pregnancies were ridiculously healthy; doubtless I would feel differently about it if they had not been.)
The other random thing in Miles's POV about Ekaterin that bothered me is that he took umbrage at Tien calling her Kat -- though not at her calling him Tien instead of Etienne, apparently. And I guess it didn't even so much bother me as bewilder me, because... why wouldn't you? I don't know a single Ekaterina who doesn't go by a diminutive in everyday life (Katya, usually), and 4-syllable names generally get shortened to something in my experience, and why shouldn't a husband call his wife by a nickname? Mine does... It's true that Barrayar doesn't seem to have much of a tradition of diminutive names (which strikes me as quite weird, actually, given the heritage -- Russians make diminutives out of *everything*, and I think the French are big on nicknames too -- at least the French of my acquaintance are -- though I can't speak for the Greeks). Oh, wait, no, they do -- most names are too short to be made into diminutives anyway, but three-syllable "Byerly" does get shortened to "By," and, of course, there's Kou and Drou, though that's not quite the same thing. Anyway, point is, there's nothing unusual about "Kat", and Miles's indignation about it is quite odd -- but on second read-through I'm writing it off to a misplaced white knight impulse of a man whose mother also had a four-syllable name that never seems to get shortened to anything. (But how often does Aral actually call her "Cordelia"? It seems to be "My dear Captain" mostly, no?)
And the idea that a marriage at 20 is a bad idea... I was 21 when I married, so I feel a bit like that's a personal affront, but at the same time, of course, I realize that it's Ekaterin thinking that, and I certainly can't blame her for coming to that conclusion, given her experiences.
The Cinderella aspect of it also bothers me a little bit. Miles is very much sweeping Ekaterin off her feet, with bustling ImpSec lackeys and private shuttles instead of taking the train and the "Open, Sesame" of his Auditor's Seal. And she clearly deserves it, after the tough nine years dealing with Tien, but the dynamic is still -- it bothers me a bit, because it undermines that "relationship of equals" thing, I guess... The fact that it makes Ekaterin uneasy is to her credit, and that she resents Venier's attempt to "rescue" her, through another marriage, and lumps in Miles's attempts to fix her life along with that even more so. But still -- there's still the seductive Cinderella aspect of it... I guess it's undermined by Ekaterin's reaction, but it still bothers me on some level.
OK, so there's more to the book than just Ekaterin and Miles. I really liked Tuomonen, complete with his mother-in-law sending him equivalents of Barrayaran "militsioner" jokes, and his "Thank God you're safe and I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands" reaction to Miles (as interpreted by Ekaterin). Apparently I just really like the way LMB writes competent soldier types -- that seems to hold true not just across the Vorkosiverse books, but crosses over into the Chalion ones as well. I liked Dr Riva sort of relinquishing herself to fast-penta so that she doesn't have to make the decision to tell or not to tell. And I really liked the "Komarrant terrorists" ("the most sensible revolutionaries I've ever met") -- and their "engineer's revolution" and decisions by voting shares. They are a very nice contrats to Ser Galen and his irrational and all-consuming obsession with revenge, although there's an echo there. Miles thinks, "One could be hyponotized by the hard choices in ways that had nothing to do with one's intelligence" -- which is, of course, an echo of what Duv says about his father in Brothers in Arms: "the anguish of making hard choices has always appealed to the romance in his soul." And, I don't know that it's entirely believable, but I love Soudha being an engineer even in the middle of a hostage negotiation ("Relly? [...] What are her numbers?")
Bits I loved:
When Miles is witnessing Ekaterin's fast-penta interrogation and realizes he's in love with her. That whole scene is both hilarious and touching, but my favorite part is when Miles thinks "Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won?" The quote's unattirbuted in the text, but it's Richard III, of course, which is precisely what Miles quoted during his own first fast-penta interrogation back in Brothers in Arms, formling a lovely little link between the two of them.
Miles being defensive over Tien's lack of promotion beyond lieutenant after 10 years ("Miles reddened slightly. 'There can be a lot of reasons-- never mind.'" -- aww, Miles!)
"One step behind all the time, reacting not acting -- and I'm horribly afraid it may be an intrinsic condition of my new job. [...] Unless I can sell Gregor on the idea of an Auditor Provocateur" (Miles, obviously :)
The "Golden Voyage of Marat Galen" -- so that's what the fortune of "those Galens" had been based on, presumably.
It's also funny to me to see what stuck with me the most from the first read. I barely remembered how Tien died, did not remember at all what the "Komarran terrorists" were after, or what part Ekaterin played in the resolution. But I did remember her and Miles going shopping and splashing in the pond, and Miles playing with Nikki's models.
Now I really, really want to reread A Civil Campaign and it seems to have disappeared from the library. I think I'm actually going to buy it...
56. Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay -- I hadn't read this book until now partially because I wasn't sure that I hadn't read it. But, nope, I hadn't. And, to be totally honest, I'd expected to like it more than I did. I still enjoyed it very much, just... not as much as I was expecting to. For one thing, I thought there would be more Vetinari in it, though poisoned!Vetinari talking to himself was interesting to see. I like Nobby and Colon a lot -- but not as action heroes (Colon), and the whole "Nobby is an Earl" plot left me cold after the first half a page or so (even the "peer" pun :P). Oh, and so this is the book where we get to see the actual text of Nobby's letter certifying that he is human. The heads of the Guilds conspiring and the coat of arms rebuses were not very interesting. Oh, Cheri was great, and her gradual feminization, and I liked the relationship she was developing with Angua (and it was really, really weird to see Cheri being referred to as a "he" at first). The things I really liked about this book were as follows:
Vimes. This is an excellent Vimes book. From him taking the sedan chair while still managing to thwart Vetinari's purpose in giving it to him to his philosophy of policing and crime-solving and increasingly baroque paranoid theories for how Vetinari was getting poisoned to his rather chilling visit to Cockbill Street ("Cockbill Street was clean, with the haunting, empty cleanliness you get when people can't afford to waste dirt. For Cockbill Street was where people lived who were worse than poor, because they didn't know how poor they were.") Actually, I bookmarked a whole lot of Vimes quotes, way more than in any other book, I think. Here they are:
Vimes on the Watch: "We're just one big family, and when you've been to a few domestic disputes, Littlebottom, I can assure you that you'll see the resemblance. We work as a team and we're pretty much making it up as we go along, and half the time we're not even certain what the law is, so it can get interesting. Technically you'll rank as a corporal, only don't go giving orders to real policemen. [...] We'll give you some training just as soon as there's time."
Vimes on the Sherlock Holmes deductive method: "What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience! [...] The real world was far too real to leave neat little hints. It was full of too many things. It wasn't by eliminating the impossible that you got at the truth, however improbable; it was by the much harder process of eliminating the possibilities. [...] You walked and you talked, and in your heart you just hoped like hell that some bugger's nerve'd crack and he'd give himself up."
Vimes, after Mrs.Easy's funeral: "It's murder now. Not assassination, not politics, it's murder."
Vimes: "I was talking about policing, not alcohol. There's lots of people will help you with the alcohol business, but there's no one out there arranging little meetings where you can stand up and say, 'My name is Sam and I'm a really suspicious bastard.'"
Vetinari on Vimes: "Thank goodness for Vimes. There was something endearing about the man's desperate, burning, and above all mis-placed competence."
Vimes and Dragon King of Arms talking:
"You still haven't told me what I'm accused of, however."
"To start with, complicity in the murders of Mrs.Flora Easy and the child William Easy."
"I am afraid those names mean nothing to me."
Vimes's finger twitched on the bow's trigger. "No," he said, breathing deeply. "They probably don't. We are making other inquiries and there may be a number of additional matters. The fact that you were poisoning the Patrician I consider a mitigating circumstance."
"You really intend to proffer charges?"
"I'd prefer violence," Vimes said loudly. "Charges is what I'm going to have to settle for."
And, finally, Vimes to Vetinari, regarding the demands from the city religious leaders to destroy Dorfl: "Yes, sir. I've given that viewpoint a lot of thought, sir, and reached the following conclusion: arseholes to the lot of 'em, sir."
Carrot. I like Carrot a lot, because he is such an unusual character and surely must be a very difficult one to pull off in writing in such a way that he is at all believable, not a Gary-Stu, and not annoying. There were funny bits with the tax forms, and drawing a sword for comparison to the golems and inadvertently threatening the mob, but also the real profound bits, like this: "If a golem is a thing then it can't commit murder, and I'll still try to find out why all this is happening. If a golem can commit murder, then you are people, and what is being done to you is terrible and must be stopped."
The golems. I actually wish there'd been more of the book spent on them. The golems who make a king/god for themselves that goes mad from the summed burden of their desires and their subsequent self-destruction is one of those scary-profound things that Pratchett does really, really well in Small Gods or the deep Dwarves subplot of Thud. And, sadly, I didn't think the execution here lived up to that kind of potential. I did find it amusing that most (all?) of the golems had Yiddish words for names, and I loved Dorfl as the atheist golem who wants to argue religion with Constable Visit, to the apparent satisfaction of both.
And I rather liked the aspects of golems as a murder weapon, because they're quite a bit like robots, really, in obeying orders and not being able to harm humans (theoretically) -- being a huge fan of Asimov's robot mysteries, that really appealed to me. I wonder if it's intentional homage.
Not too long ago, I came across someone quoting someone or someone commenting on something unrelated (possibly in a Fandom_Wank's randome Pterry appreciation thread?) who was basically regarding the Discworld books as evil because they featured the good guys laughing at a young boy being sodomized with an apple. So, the passage is in Feet of Clay, and I'm not sure I would've noticed it particularly if I hadn't read that thing previously, but here it is: "'And poor young Sid is only an apprentice and didn't deserve what was done to him!' 'Oh dear,' said Carrot. 'Er... I think I've got an ointment that might be--' 'Will it help with the apple?' the man demanded. '[The golem] shoved an apple in his mouth?' 'Wrong!' Vimes winced. 'Ouch...'" Not exactly the way it was protrayed in the thread, and I don't think Vimes is laughing so much as he has other priorities at the moment.
Quotes, naturally:
"But geography is only physics slowed down and with a few trees stuck on it"
"Lord Vetinari had a very good memory. But everyone wrote things down, didn't they? You couldn't remember every little thing. "Wednesday: 3 p.m., reign of terror; 3:15 p.m., clean out scorpion pit..."
"[Vetinari]'d taken all the gangs and squabbling groups and made them see that a small slice of the cake on a regular basis was better by far than a bigger slice with a dagger in it. He'd made them see that it was better to take a small slice but enlarge the cake."
All in all, not my favorite Watch book, but I'm definitely glad I've read it now.
57. Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel's Mercy -- oh dear, these books are slooooow. And when I start complaining about something being long-winded, you know that's some serious long-windedness going on. Not that I'm complaining, exactly, because I did enjoy it. And the pace actually did pick up once the spell on Sidonie started unraveling in Carthage and she and Imriel actually go to *doing* stuff instead of just playing chess and flirting.
This book actually sort of won me over to Imriel/Sidonie, which always felt shallow and random to me up until that point. I wonder how much of that was natural progression and how much was Carey reacting to people's general lacklusteredness on the subject of the pairing... For one, Sidonie seemed to have a lot more of an actual character in this one -- I liked her practicality as contrasted with Imriel's broody passion. "No one denies the rutting, my lord," is one of my favorite lines in the book. So is, "I'd be more than happy to spend the balance of my days as a remarkable heir." The cool, dry humour, the self-onfidence, practicality, the gift of oratory/theatrics and military strategy... I was very, very surprised to find myself actually really liking Sidonie.
And, OK, they're pretty hot together, I guess. I especially like the fact that even when they get into the S&M games, Sidonie draws strong limits and doesn't hesitate to use her signale, and calls Imriel on it when he is being an ass. As the first part of the book wore on, though, it did start irking me a bit that the two of them are apparently incapable of having any private interaction that does not involve getting it on, while they're discussing politics or getting dressed or whatever. I mean, goody for them, and I understand they can't indulge in PDA, but still -- that detracts somewhat from the idea that this is a serious, love-of-their-life relationship and not just lust. That did abate a bit as the book wore on, during and after the tirals and tribulations, and it stopped bugging me. But... well, I still don't buy the epic love affair ordained by the gods, even if I may have accepted it as a fairly likeable relationship.
The magic in this book I liked less than in previous ones -- it felt too grand, too conventional (and too at odds with the kind of magic that had previously dominated). The thing I like about the magical component in the Kushiel books is that it's subtle and mystical more than grand spell workings, and all this business with !jinni trapped within precious stones and toad slime and fever sweat felt shallower than the magical worldbuilding that had preceded it. Oh, but Imriel being imbued by Elua and Companions was pretty damn funny :)
Imriel being hypnotized into thinking he was Leander was a very interesting thing to do to your protagonist, and there are some curious moments when Leander!Imriel interacts with Melisande and Sunjata, after Sunjata has seen him truly, and that's a clever way to have your reader know more about the protagonist than the protagonist does and not have the protag be an idiot. It certainly sets up some poignant and ironic moments. But -- and I'm not really sure if it's a bug or a feature -- Leander!Imriel's inner voice starts converging too quickly to just plain Imriel's. I suppose it is inevitable, but it did feel a bit like squandered opportunity, and after a while, it was difficult to remember that Imriel was still not himself. (I did really like the scene at the marketplace with the Aragonian boy being sold into slavery.)
I have mixed feelings about how the effect of Bodeshmun's "we have always been at war with Oceania" spell on Terre D'Ange was handled, too. There are some really poignant, painful moments set up -- starting with Imriel's madness and the terrible things he flung at his loved ones (Joscelin flinching away from the mention of Darsanga and Imriel reveling in it was quite painful), to the horror of seeing Ysandre and Durstan in the grip of the spell and paranoia, to the duel between Imriel and Joscelin at the end. But... the fact that the spell is "malevolent at its core" and thus alters not just the subjects' memory but also their personality kind of bugged me. On the one hand, it does allow for some fairly horrible scenes, like always quietly dignified Durstan yanking a hank of hair out of some farmer lad's scalp and Phedre and Joscelin guilt-tripping Imri. On the other hand... that's kind of a copout, you know? The spell is malevolent and makes everyone worse than they are -- thus people aren't really responsible for what they did. Sure, it might have taken more time or more delicate set-up, but I think the dilemma would've been more effective if everyone remained their true selves and only their memories were altered, if Ysandre and Durstan were heartbroken by Alais and Barquiel's betrayal, or seriously concerned that Alais had gone insane or been bewitched, rather than rolling in paranoia. The reason I liked Imriel's madness (by contrast) is that it seemed pretty clear that this ability to go for the weakest spot had been inside him all along -- it wasn't a spell altering his personality so much as altering his perception of the circumstances, freeing him of constraints. Now that's pretty scary.
There is a lot of mirroring in this book. When Imriel thinks himself Leander, there's a lot of stuff repeated in his relationship with Sidonie -- a pivotal moment that occurs during a hunt, Imriel/"Leander" swearing loyalty to Sidonie, a Longest Night dance, the time he throws himself onto her to shield her from the gardener's shears (echoing the time Imriel did it at the hunt in the first book). I thought the parallels were laid on a bit too thick, but I didn't mind them -- until Imriel and Sidonie actually started pointing them out to each other. No in-text meta from the characters' mouths, please, and it really isn't subtle enough to need pointing to... :P
I've talked about the main characters, so far, but not all of my favorite ones. Now, Barquiel L'Envers was one of my favorite characters in the first trilogy (partly because he was one of the few people in these books who did not fawn over Phedre), and I was saddened by the treatment of him in Imriel's first two books, since it seemed like he was being relegated to the role of a petty villain. There was a bit of that in the beginning of Justice, with the suit brought by Imriel's vassal, but the fact that he actually turns Imriel's ally was really gratifying for me. He was his badass self, and my reading of the "maybe I hadn't noticed that before or maybe he changed" passages from Imriel's POV fall pretty firmly on the unreliable narrator side -- Imri and Barquiel are on the same side of a battle for the first time -- no wonder they start thinking of each other more favorably as a result ("L'Envers clasped my hand [...] 'Imriel,' he said steadily. 'Well done.' I nodded. 'And you.'"). And of course I love Barquiel's line: "Some great undying love affair that turned out to be."
Speaking of poignant moments, Imriel relationship with Joscelin remains my favorite in the book. I already mentioned the difficult moments during Imriel's madness and the spell, but the part where, after the spell is broken, ("Joscelin embraced me, his callused hands firm against my shard-studded shoulder blades. I stifled the pain. Still, he felt it and let go. 'I'm proud of you,' he said simply. 'So proud.' I blinked away my tears. 'I sought but to follow your lead.'") was where I came closest to tearing up in the book.
I continue to like Mavros a lot (and have to wonder if the scene where he comes upon Imri taking a bath and Imriel stands up is some kind of fanservice, because I can't imagine what else the point of it could be). He is just such a fun character: "'Generations of incest,' Mavros said cheerfully [...] 'At least on House Shahrizai's side. Nice to see you're carrying on the tradition.'" I was glad for the brief glimpse of Lucius in the end ("I watched Mavros flirt unabashedly with an amused Lucius"), and Maslin's unannounced arrival ("My thanks, my bright angel. [...] I'm glad you came."). And I will maintain that the book *actually* ended with an Maslin/Imriel/Mavros/Lucius orgy, at Sidonie's request and with her and Amarante watching. Because clearly it was headed that way, right? ;)
I don't actually have a whole lot to say about Melisande or Solon... She was never a favorite character of mind, and I didn't particularly care whether she lived or died, though I do kind of feel like she got off too easily -- she is not exactly suffering in exile, and her help was mostly incidental -- Solon and Imriel did all the heavy lifting, after all. (Yes, Solon wouldn't have helped Imriel if not for Melisande, and Imriel only escaped the effects of the spell thanks to her, but still... it doesn't feel like enough of a personal sacrifice for redemption, you know?) But I did like her explanation behind Imriel's name ("Eloquence of God. [...] Because when you were born, for the first time, I understood it. Love as thou wilt."
I also don't have a lot to say about Astegal, which is a bit surprising, because I liked him during his original appearance in Terre D'Ange. I think the problem is actually that he doesn't really have a fixed character. Once he is revealed as an out-and-out villain, I think his character is undermined until it's no longer very cohesive. It would've been great to see Imreil and Sidonie square against a really *competent* enemy, like Melisande or Waldemar Selig had been.
Odds and ends:
"Who are you?"
"Imriel de la Courcel."
"The missing prince?"
"More often than not," I agreed.
Cute! :)
Also, Euskerri caucusing, heh. (They are meant to be Basques, I guess?) And Imriel play-acting Gallus Tadius (whom I'd always liked).
Illyan's breakdown was by far the worst part, and once the chip was out of his head and he was recovering (however lost temporarily) I definitely breathed a sigh of relief. But then, of course, there's the thing with Galeni being accused of treason (and poor, poor Galeni -- it is fascinating to watch him suffer, so he gets put through a lot of it), and then Miles "wrestling with temptation," and then -- and this was actually still painful -- figuring out the culprit was Haroche and the trap, arrest, confession. Thing is, I *liked* Haroche. I liked him the same way I liked Commodore Destang in Brothers in Arms -- as a competent ImpSec man, not necessarily on Miles's side but dedicated to serving the Emperor and fair and smart. When he started calling Miles by his name I was sort of touched, although it was difficult not to suspect something by the bribe scene. And then there's the arrest, and that really felt very poignant:
[Allegre:] "Lucas, are you going to give me any trouble?"
"I think...not." sighed Haroche. [...] "I'm too old to be that athletic anymore."
"Good. Me too." Allegre escorted him out.
Although by now I think Galeni's bypassed Gregor on my list of favorite characters, I still really like Gregor, and it was quite wonderful to see him light up in Laisa's presence, and the elaborate pony show for her benefit, especially if, as Miles suspected, he was trying to cop a feel when helping her mount. It's just really nice to see him (relatively) relaxed and having fun for a change -- sort of the lighter side of the "reserved, controlled character showing cracks" thing I was talking about with Galeni in Brothers in Arms. I wasn't bowled over by Laisa myself, though she seemed perfectly pleasant, so it was a little odd to see both Gregor and Galeni so head-over-heels over her. But then there's also the quietly enraged Gregor who elicits Haroche's confession, and that was neat, too: "'Sit down, Lucas,' said Gregor, so quietly Miles had to strain to hear. [...] 'General Haroche,' Gregor went on, 'I wanted you to give me your last report in person. You owe me that, and for the thirty years of service you have given me -- nearly my whole life, my whole reign -- I owe you that.'" and "Miles had seen Gregor quietly socially charming, quietly bravura-fey, quietly desperate, quietly determined. He'd never seen him quietly angry. It was impressive, a weight all around like deep seawater." And Gregor when he appoints Miles temporary auditor: "'But Gregor -- Haroche will know it's a scam.' Gregor's voice went soft. 'Then Haroche will be dangerously mistaken.'" These are the sort of scenes for which I find Gregor an interesting character.
And Galeni was marvelous too: "'You smarmy goddamn little pimp,' said Galeni, in a dead-level voice. [...] 'And you goddamn Barrayaran thieves stick together, all right. You and your fucking precious Emperor and the whole damned pack of you.'" And, of course: "'Goddammit, Vorkosigan, where were you all this time?' 'Ah...' Miles ticked his Auditor's chain, to remind Galeni he was still on duty. Galeni snapped, 'Goddammit, my Lord Auditor, where the hell were you all this time? You said last night you'd follow on. Thought you were going to let me out. Then I ddin't know what the hell to think. I'm quitting this frigging paranoid stupid organization just as soon as I get out of this rat tank. No more."
This is all not to say that the book was all completely dark. I enjoyed the lighter moments of it very much: Miles attempting to play matchmaker to Duv and Laisa, Miles and Illyan going fishing, first Miles and then Ivan discovering about Illyan and Alys (and Cordelia's take on the matter), Miles's whole bachelor lifestyle.
Actually, I like Illyan in general, and it was neat to see so much of him, even if he was not fully himself through a lot of the book. (And, even in the depths of his breakdown, it was neat to learn that he fights dirty and uses barracks language when not in control of himself. Oh, and that he used to return Miles's reports with snarky edits for grammar and style :). And I like Alys, too. And, heh, this line (talking about her fruitless attempts to get Ivan settled): "A certain nameless with, or half-wit, even whispered I ought to start trying boys, but I pointed out that would not solve the heir problem, which is the whole point of the exercise in the first place."
And the Aral/Cordelia moment, all of three sentences long, totally made me melt. ("The Count exchanged a hard hug with the Countess, half-dislodging the flowers from her hair, as if it had been a year instead of weeks since they'd parted on Sergyar. A little "Ah" of pleasure rumbled in his chest, like a man eased of some burden. 'I trust,' he said to his wife, holding her at arm's length and devouring her with his eyes, etc."
And I was pleased to see further evidence of Ivan's competence, such as when he babysits Miles ("'Did I ask for an argument? Did you hear me ask for a Betan vote, Duv?' Galeni, watching in fascination, shook his head.'" -- let's just say it's lovely to see Ivan get to boss Miles around for a change :D). Skipping Brothers and Arms and Memory up until now, definitely caused me to have a less flattering view of Ivan than he properly deserves, and I'm glad to have finished remedying this now.
Oh, and I kind of liked Weddell, too: "A little bug that eats things." :)
I wish there had been more of Galeni and Delia's courtship in this book, partly because I would have loved to see more Galeni, and partly because I want to see just how big a brick, and what kind, it took. :)
Quotes:
"It wasn't fair, for people to go and change on him, while his back was turned being dead. To change without giving notice, or even asking permission." (I feel for you, Miles...)
"It expanded my world view, ever after. Money, power, sex... and elephants" (Illyan talking about what motivates people.)
"Love, it seemed, was not only contagious, it was aggressively contagious."
"Finance seemed simply delighted that somebody cared, and threatened to go on forever. Miles fought his way clear of the spreadsheets, and escaped." (So true of my interactions with Finance, too...)
"I think I could do almost anything I had to do, if you ordered it, Gregor" -- totally pinged my Miles/Gregor sense :)
And I loved this quote towards the very end, for the thwarted meta-ness of it: "Ceremoniously, [Miles] selected a bottle of his grandfathers oldest and rarest. Upon opening it, he discovered it was going more than a bit off. He considered drinking it anyway, for the symbolism's sake. Then, decisively, he dumped it down the bathroom sink in his new suite and went back for a bottle from a much more recent batch that he knew to be very good."
So, overall -- I liked this book a whole lot, although it cannot be my favorite because of all the grim, painful parts of it. After I finished it, I didn't feel like starting any of the other books waiting for me (though I have done so now), and instead just started re-reading Komarr. I'd love to get my hands on A Civil Campaign now, which was the first Miles book I read, and re-read it now that I actually know who all of these people are and all their background and mutual histories.
58. Lois McMaster Bujold, Komarr (reread) -- I am enjoying this book much more this go-around, with the background of more Vorkosigan books and especially building on the life-changing Memory. I kept picking up all these references to other things, including The Vor Game (cold climates and forensic plumbing), and other things that I hadn't read at the time when I first read Komarr. The biggest difference is, I think, in how I'm viewing the budding Miles/Ekaterin. I think that the first time around, when I was reading for plot, I mainly wanted to get to the Miles POV chapters, where stuff was happening. I liked Ekaterin OK, but had a hard time empathisizing with her, and didn't find her very compelling as a character. I found her much more interesting this time -- it might help that I'm her age now, and have kids closer in age to hers, I don't know. Or just the fact that I'm reading more slowly and focusing on the relationship more, since I know how the plot turns out.
I still find it difficult to understand how Ekaterin could have put up with Tien for so long. I know it's realistic, and reinforced by her Barrayaran sensibilities, and then there's that whole learned childhood thing about turning yourself to stone as a means of defense, but still. No way would I have put up with the kind of treatment from my husband, and so it's difficult for me to understand how an intelligent, obviously capable person like Ekaterin would... for so long and so quietly. But her thoughts while Tien is alive are heartbreaking and very effective for all that I can't empathize with her choices. "Was it stalking, when it was your own husband?" is perfectly chilling, and all the efforts to defuse Tien, everything, basically.
And I have to say, I like the way Tien's character is handled. He is not a monster, he is human, but there is almost nothing sympathetic in him (except that his brother -- and father, presumably -- dealt him a pretty shitty hand as well, by hiding the Vorzohn Dystrophy from him), and yet he is too pathetic to be outright hated. I thought he elicited just the right kind of feeling from the reader. And Ekaterin's view of him is quite interesting ("He does love me, in some inept way"). The one thing I didn't feel, which I think you're supposed to, is that Tien is scary. But maybe that's just because I've been lucky enough not to have any first-hand experience with the Tiens of this world. But back to Ekaterin and Miles.
I think it helps that by now I've read about Miles's relationship with Elli and Taura that I can tell how much more grown-up the budding relationship with Ekaterin is. The thing I really like, which I either wasn't familiar enough with the Vorkosiverse or wasn't paying enough attention to pick up on first read-through, is the way Miles and Ekaterin see each other. It's very sweet, actually. Miles sees Ekaterin as an independent entity, her own person. This is pretty notable, actually, because with all his other love interests he is quite possessive. It's a very Vorish sort of possessiveness, with the claims going both ways, and it makes sense, since Elli and Taura are his troops (as well as having the personal claims of Elli taking plasma arc fire for him and him "giving" her a new face, and Taura being one of his rescue missions) and Elena is his armsman's daughter and so there's true Vor allegiance there. There's none of that with Ekaterin, and I think that makes the relationship healthy, much more "equal". Also, while Miles clearly has a penchant for Amazons, not least, I'm guessing, because Cordelia was a bit of an action hero in her own right, when it comes to her relationship with Miless, the Countess actually tends to be very calm and still (which Memory really highlighted), and so the quiet Ekaterin is actually a better match for that sort of dynamic than Miles's previous action girls. And, of course, Ekaterin is true Vor and thus understands some fundamental things about Miles's deepest morals much better than spacer Elli could, or even Barrayaran-but-not-Vor Elena. They are a good match.
And Miles's eagerness to play white knight for her is just cute (vanquishing creditors by calling in Colonel Gibbs, e.g., or making the difficulty with legal guardianship go away at the clinic), as is her outside look at even a fairly subdued Miles, his obsession with planets, his approach to gift-giving, etc. And Miles is simply adorable with Nikki, playing with his ships and comparins scars/scabs, and then talking him out of the bathroom. And Ekaterin sees him as "goofy" -- well, "almost goofy", but that's quite acurate. And this, when they're being all 'Honey, I'm home' around the dinner table: "This mind-melting mixture of lust and domesticity was entirely novel to him. Well, half-novel: he knew how to handle lust. It was the domesticity that had ambushed his guard." And this actually made me laugh out loud: "You know, you're the first girlfr-- female friend I've had I've ever succeeded in giving Barrayar to. Not for lack of trying." They are just really cute together, and Miles is just adorable when he's been hit over the head with love.
A few things still bother me, not so much in her thoughts as in Miles's reactions (but this time I'm more willing to write them off as POV character bias than as authorial intent). The fact that Nikki was a body birth, for example. The first time I read Komarr, I think I'd only recently given birth to O, and was still in the post-pregnancy glow, and it bugged me that it seemed implied that a uterine replicator was always better than a body birth. Now, I can actually wonder which I would choose, assuming replicator technology was advanced enough to be quite safe. I'm pretty sure I would go for genetic screening in utero, but still the body birth route (and yes, obviously I don't have Betan cultural bias against it, as Miles has inherited from Cordelia). Because there is definitely something about carrying a child inside you, feeling the kicks and rolls -- it's certainly not *necessary* to a parental bond, but it is precious, and I wouldn't trade it away unless there was an actual/suspected risk and not just because some kind of risk might come up. (Both of my pregnancies were ridiculously healthy; doubtless I would feel differently about it if they had not been.)
The other random thing in Miles's POV about Ekaterin that bothered me is that he took umbrage at Tien calling her Kat -- though not at her calling him Tien instead of Etienne, apparently. And I guess it didn't even so much bother me as bewilder me, because... why wouldn't you? I don't know a single Ekaterina who doesn't go by a diminutive in everyday life (Katya, usually), and 4-syllable names generally get shortened to something in my experience, and why shouldn't a husband call his wife by a nickname? Mine does... It's true that Barrayar doesn't seem to have much of a tradition of diminutive names (which strikes me as quite weird, actually, given the heritage -- Russians make diminutives out of *everything*, and I think the French are big on nicknames too -- at least the French of my acquaintance are -- though I can't speak for the Greeks). Oh, wait, no, they do -- most names are too short to be made into diminutives anyway, but three-syllable "Byerly" does get shortened to "By," and, of course, there's Kou and Drou, though that's not quite the same thing. Anyway, point is, there's nothing unusual about "Kat", and Miles's indignation about it is quite odd -- but on second read-through I'm writing it off to a misplaced white knight impulse of a man whose mother also had a four-syllable name that never seems to get shortened to anything. (But how often does Aral actually call her "Cordelia"? It seems to be "My dear Captain" mostly, no?)
And the idea that a marriage at 20 is a bad idea... I was 21 when I married, so I feel a bit like that's a personal affront, but at the same time, of course, I realize that it's Ekaterin thinking that, and I certainly can't blame her for coming to that conclusion, given her experiences.
The Cinderella aspect of it also bothers me a little bit. Miles is very much sweeping Ekaterin off her feet, with bustling ImpSec lackeys and private shuttles instead of taking the train and the "Open, Sesame" of his Auditor's Seal. And she clearly deserves it, after the tough nine years dealing with Tien, but the dynamic is still -- it bothers me a bit, because it undermines that "relationship of equals" thing, I guess... The fact that it makes Ekaterin uneasy is to her credit, and that she resents Venier's attempt to "rescue" her, through another marriage, and lumps in Miles's attempts to fix her life along with that even more so. But still -- there's still the seductive Cinderella aspect of it... I guess it's undermined by Ekaterin's reaction, but it still bothers me on some level.
OK, so there's more to the book than just Ekaterin and Miles. I really liked Tuomonen, complete with his mother-in-law sending him equivalents of Barrayaran "militsioner" jokes, and his "Thank God you're safe and I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands" reaction to Miles (as interpreted by Ekaterin). Apparently I just really like the way LMB writes competent soldier types -- that seems to hold true not just across the Vorkosiverse books, but crosses over into the Chalion ones as well. I liked Dr Riva sort of relinquishing herself to fast-penta so that she doesn't have to make the decision to tell or not to tell. And I really liked the "Komarrant terrorists" ("the most sensible revolutionaries I've ever met") -- and their "engineer's revolution" and decisions by voting shares. They are a very nice contrats to Ser Galen and his irrational and all-consuming obsession with revenge, although there's an echo there. Miles thinks, "One could be hyponotized by the hard choices in ways that had nothing to do with one's intelligence" -- which is, of course, an echo of what Duv says about his father in Brothers in Arms: "the anguish of making hard choices has always appealed to the romance in his soul." And, I don't know that it's entirely believable, but I love Soudha being an engineer even in the middle of a hostage negotiation ("Relly? [...] What are her numbers?")
Bits I loved:
When Miles is witnessing Ekaterin's fast-penta interrogation and realizes he's in love with her. That whole scene is both hilarious and touching, but my favorite part is when Miles thinks "Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won?" The quote's unattirbuted in the text, but it's Richard III, of course, which is precisely what Miles quoted during his own first fast-penta interrogation back in Brothers in Arms, formling a lovely little link between the two of them.
Miles being defensive over Tien's lack of promotion beyond lieutenant after 10 years ("Miles reddened slightly. 'There can be a lot of reasons-- never mind.'" -- aww, Miles!)
"One step behind all the time, reacting not acting -- and I'm horribly afraid it may be an intrinsic condition of my new job. [...] Unless I can sell Gregor on the idea of an Auditor Provocateur" (Miles, obviously :)
The "Golden Voyage of Marat Galen" -- so that's what the fortune of "those Galens" had been based on, presumably.
It's also funny to me to see what stuck with me the most from the first read. I barely remembered how Tien died, did not remember at all what the "Komarran terrorists" were after, or what part Ekaterin played in the resolution. But I did remember her and Miles going shopping and splashing in the pond, and Miles playing with Nikki's models.
Now I really, really want to reread A Civil Campaign and it seems to have disappeared from the library. I think I'm actually going to buy it...
56. Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay -- I hadn't read this book until now partially because I wasn't sure that I hadn't read it. But, nope, I hadn't. And, to be totally honest, I'd expected to like it more than I did. I still enjoyed it very much, just... not as much as I was expecting to. For one thing, I thought there would be more Vetinari in it, though poisoned!Vetinari talking to himself was interesting to see. I like Nobby and Colon a lot -- but not as action heroes (Colon), and the whole "Nobby is an Earl" plot left me cold after the first half a page or so (even the "peer" pun :P). Oh, and so this is the book where we get to see the actual text of Nobby's letter certifying that he is human. The heads of the Guilds conspiring and the coat of arms rebuses were not very interesting. Oh, Cheri was great, and her gradual feminization, and I liked the relationship she was developing with Angua (and it was really, really weird to see Cheri being referred to as a "he" at first). The things I really liked about this book were as follows:
Vimes. This is an excellent Vimes book. From him taking the sedan chair while still managing to thwart Vetinari's purpose in giving it to him to his philosophy of policing and crime-solving and increasingly baroque paranoid theories for how Vetinari was getting poisoned to his rather chilling visit to Cockbill Street ("Cockbill Street was clean, with the haunting, empty cleanliness you get when people can't afford to waste dirt. For Cockbill Street was where people lived who were worse than poor, because they didn't know how poor they were.") Actually, I bookmarked a whole lot of Vimes quotes, way more than in any other book, I think. Here they are:
Vimes on the Watch: "We're just one big family, and when you've been to a few domestic disputes, Littlebottom, I can assure you that you'll see the resemblance. We work as a team and we're pretty much making it up as we go along, and half the time we're not even certain what the law is, so it can get interesting. Technically you'll rank as a corporal, only don't go giving orders to real policemen. [...] We'll give you some training just as soon as there's time."
Vimes on the Sherlock Holmes deductive method: "What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience! [...] The real world was far too real to leave neat little hints. It was full of too many things. It wasn't by eliminating the impossible that you got at the truth, however improbable; it was by the much harder process of eliminating the possibilities. [...] You walked and you talked, and in your heart you just hoped like hell that some bugger's nerve'd crack and he'd give himself up."
Vimes, after Mrs.Easy's funeral: "It's murder now. Not assassination, not politics, it's murder."
Vimes: "I was talking about policing, not alcohol. There's lots of people will help you with the alcohol business, but there's no one out there arranging little meetings where you can stand up and say, 'My name is Sam and I'm a really suspicious bastard.'"
Vetinari on Vimes: "Thank goodness for Vimes. There was something endearing about the man's desperate, burning, and above all mis-placed competence."
Vimes and Dragon King of Arms talking:
"You still haven't told me what I'm accused of, however."
"To start with, complicity in the murders of Mrs.Flora Easy and the child William Easy."
"I am afraid those names mean nothing to me."
Vimes's finger twitched on the bow's trigger. "No," he said, breathing deeply. "They probably don't. We are making other inquiries and there may be a number of additional matters. The fact that you were poisoning the Patrician I consider a mitigating circumstance."
"You really intend to proffer charges?"
"I'd prefer violence," Vimes said loudly. "Charges is what I'm going to have to settle for."
And, finally, Vimes to Vetinari, regarding the demands from the city religious leaders to destroy Dorfl: "Yes, sir. I've given that viewpoint a lot of thought, sir, and reached the following conclusion: arseholes to the lot of 'em, sir."
Carrot. I like Carrot a lot, because he is such an unusual character and surely must be a very difficult one to pull off in writing in such a way that he is at all believable, not a Gary-Stu, and not annoying. There were funny bits with the tax forms, and drawing a sword for comparison to the golems and inadvertently threatening the mob, but also the real profound bits, like this: "If a golem is a thing then it can't commit murder, and I'll still try to find out why all this is happening. If a golem can commit murder, then you are people, and what is being done to you is terrible and must be stopped."
The golems. I actually wish there'd been more of the book spent on them. The golems who make a king/god for themselves that goes mad from the summed burden of their desires and their subsequent self-destruction is one of those scary-profound things that Pratchett does really, really well in Small Gods or the deep Dwarves subplot of Thud. And, sadly, I didn't think the execution here lived up to that kind of potential. I did find it amusing that most (all?) of the golems had Yiddish words for names, and I loved Dorfl as the atheist golem who wants to argue religion with Constable Visit, to the apparent satisfaction of both.
And I rather liked the aspects of golems as a murder weapon, because they're quite a bit like robots, really, in obeying orders and not being able to harm humans (theoretically) -- being a huge fan of Asimov's robot mysteries, that really appealed to me. I wonder if it's intentional homage.
Not too long ago, I came across someone quoting someone or someone commenting on something unrelated (possibly in a Fandom_Wank's randome Pterry appreciation thread?) who was basically regarding the Discworld books as evil because they featured the good guys laughing at a young boy being sodomized with an apple. So, the passage is in Feet of Clay, and I'm not sure I would've noticed it particularly if I hadn't read that thing previously, but here it is: "'And poor young Sid is only an apprentice and didn't deserve what was done to him!' 'Oh dear,' said Carrot. 'Er... I think I've got an ointment that might be--' 'Will it help with the apple?' the man demanded. '[The golem] shoved an apple in his mouth?' 'Wrong!' Vimes winced. 'Ouch...'" Not exactly the way it was protrayed in the thread, and I don't think Vimes is laughing so much as he has other priorities at the moment.
Quotes, naturally:
"But geography is only physics slowed down and with a few trees stuck on it"
"Lord Vetinari had a very good memory. But everyone wrote things down, didn't they? You couldn't remember every little thing. "Wednesday: 3 p.m., reign of terror; 3:15 p.m., clean out scorpion pit..."
"[Vetinari]'d taken all the gangs and squabbling groups and made them see that a small slice of the cake on a regular basis was better by far than a bigger slice with a dagger in it. He'd made them see that it was better to take a small slice but enlarge the cake."
All in all, not my favorite Watch book, but I'm definitely glad I've read it now.
57. Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel's Mercy -- oh dear, these books are slooooow. And when I start complaining about something being long-winded, you know that's some serious long-windedness going on. Not that I'm complaining, exactly, because I did enjoy it. And the pace actually did pick up once the spell on Sidonie started unraveling in Carthage and she and Imriel actually go to *doing* stuff instead of just playing chess and flirting.
This book actually sort of won me over to Imriel/Sidonie, which always felt shallow and random to me up until that point. I wonder how much of that was natural progression and how much was Carey reacting to people's general lacklusteredness on the subject of the pairing... For one, Sidonie seemed to have a lot more of an actual character in this one -- I liked her practicality as contrasted with Imriel's broody passion. "No one denies the rutting, my lord," is one of my favorite lines in the book. So is, "I'd be more than happy to spend the balance of my days as a remarkable heir." The cool, dry humour, the self-onfidence, practicality, the gift of oratory/theatrics and military strategy... I was very, very surprised to find myself actually really liking Sidonie.
And, OK, they're pretty hot together, I guess. I especially like the fact that even when they get into the S&M games, Sidonie draws strong limits and doesn't hesitate to use her signale, and calls Imriel on it when he is being an ass. As the first part of the book wore on, though, it did start irking me a bit that the two of them are apparently incapable of having any private interaction that does not involve getting it on, while they're discussing politics or getting dressed or whatever. I mean, goody for them, and I understand they can't indulge in PDA, but still -- that detracts somewhat from the idea that this is a serious, love-of-their-life relationship and not just lust. That did abate a bit as the book wore on, during and after the tirals and tribulations, and it stopped bugging me. But... well, I still don't buy the epic love affair ordained by the gods, even if I may have accepted it as a fairly likeable relationship.
The magic in this book I liked less than in previous ones -- it felt too grand, too conventional (and too at odds with the kind of magic that had previously dominated). The thing I like about the magical component in the Kushiel books is that it's subtle and mystical more than grand spell workings, and all this business with !jinni trapped within precious stones and toad slime and fever sweat felt shallower than the magical worldbuilding that had preceded it. Oh, but Imriel being imbued by Elua and Companions was pretty damn funny :)
Imriel being hypnotized into thinking he was Leander was a very interesting thing to do to your protagonist, and there are some curious moments when Leander!Imriel interacts with Melisande and Sunjata, after Sunjata has seen him truly, and that's a clever way to have your reader know more about the protagonist than the protagonist does and not have the protag be an idiot. It certainly sets up some poignant and ironic moments. But -- and I'm not really sure if it's a bug or a feature -- Leander!Imriel's inner voice starts converging too quickly to just plain Imriel's. I suppose it is inevitable, but it did feel a bit like squandered opportunity, and after a while, it was difficult to remember that Imriel was still not himself. (I did really like the scene at the marketplace with the Aragonian boy being sold into slavery.)
I have mixed feelings about how the effect of Bodeshmun's "we have always been at war with Oceania" spell on Terre D'Ange was handled, too. There are some really poignant, painful moments set up -- starting with Imriel's madness and the terrible things he flung at his loved ones (Joscelin flinching away from the mention of Darsanga and Imriel reveling in it was quite painful), to the horror of seeing Ysandre and Durstan in the grip of the spell and paranoia, to the duel between Imriel and Joscelin at the end. But... the fact that the spell is "malevolent at its core" and thus alters not just the subjects' memory but also their personality kind of bugged me. On the one hand, it does allow for some fairly horrible scenes, like always quietly dignified Durstan yanking a hank of hair out of some farmer lad's scalp and Phedre and Joscelin guilt-tripping Imri. On the other hand... that's kind of a copout, you know? The spell is malevolent and makes everyone worse than they are -- thus people aren't really responsible for what they did. Sure, it might have taken more time or more delicate set-up, but I think the dilemma would've been more effective if everyone remained their true selves and only their memories were altered, if Ysandre and Durstan were heartbroken by Alais and Barquiel's betrayal, or seriously concerned that Alais had gone insane or been bewitched, rather than rolling in paranoia. The reason I liked Imriel's madness (by contrast) is that it seemed pretty clear that this ability to go for the weakest spot had been inside him all along -- it wasn't a spell altering his personality so much as altering his perception of the circumstances, freeing him of constraints. Now that's pretty scary.
There is a lot of mirroring in this book. When Imriel thinks himself Leander, there's a lot of stuff repeated in his relationship with Sidonie -- a pivotal moment that occurs during a hunt, Imriel/"Leander" swearing loyalty to Sidonie, a Longest Night dance, the time he throws himself onto her to shield her from the gardener's shears (echoing the time Imriel did it at the hunt in the first book). I thought the parallels were laid on a bit too thick, but I didn't mind them -- until Imriel and Sidonie actually started pointing them out to each other. No in-text meta from the characters' mouths, please, and it really isn't subtle enough to need pointing to... :P
I've talked about the main characters, so far, but not all of my favorite ones. Now, Barquiel L'Envers was one of my favorite characters in the first trilogy (partly because he was one of the few people in these books who did not fawn over Phedre), and I was saddened by the treatment of him in Imriel's first two books, since it seemed like he was being relegated to the role of a petty villain. There was a bit of that in the beginning of Justice, with the suit brought by Imriel's vassal, but the fact that he actually turns Imriel's ally was really gratifying for me. He was his badass self, and my reading of the "maybe I hadn't noticed that before or maybe he changed" passages from Imriel's POV fall pretty firmly on the unreliable narrator side -- Imri and Barquiel are on the same side of a battle for the first time -- no wonder they start thinking of each other more favorably as a result ("L'Envers clasped my hand [...] 'Imriel,' he said steadily. 'Well done.' I nodded. 'And you.'"). And of course I love Barquiel's line: "Some great undying love affair that turned out to be."
Speaking of poignant moments, Imriel relationship with Joscelin remains my favorite in the book. I already mentioned the difficult moments during Imriel's madness and the spell, but the part where, after the spell is broken, ("Joscelin embraced me, his callused hands firm against my shard-studded shoulder blades. I stifled the pain. Still, he felt it and let go. 'I'm proud of you,' he said simply. 'So proud.' I blinked away my tears. 'I sought but to follow your lead.'") was where I came closest to tearing up in the book.
I continue to like Mavros a lot (and have to wonder if the scene where he comes upon Imri taking a bath and Imriel stands up is some kind of fanservice, because I can't imagine what else the point of it could be). He is just such a fun character: "'Generations of incest,' Mavros said cheerfully [...] 'At least on House Shahrizai's side. Nice to see you're carrying on the tradition.'" I was glad for the brief glimpse of Lucius in the end ("I watched Mavros flirt unabashedly with an amused Lucius"), and Maslin's unannounced arrival ("My thanks, my bright angel. [...] I'm glad you came."). And I will maintain that the book *actually* ended with an Maslin/Imriel/Mavros/Lucius orgy, at Sidonie's request and with her and Amarante watching. Because clearly it was headed that way, right? ;)
I don't actually have a whole lot to say about Melisande or Solon... She was never a favorite character of mind, and I didn't particularly care whether she lived or died, though I do kind of feel like she got off too easily -- she is not exactly suffering in exile, and her help was mostly incidental -- Solon and Imriel did all the heavy lifting, after all. (Yes, Solon wouldn't have helped Imriel if not for Melisande, and Imriel only escaped the effects of the spell thanks to her, but still... it doesn't feel like enough of a personal sacrifice for redemption, you know?) But I did like her explanation behind Imriel's name ("Eloquence of God. [...] Because when you were born, for the first time, I understood it. Love as thou wilt."
I also don't have a lot to say about Astegal, which is a bit surprising, because I liked him during his original appearance in Terre D'Ange. I think the problem is actually that he doesn't really have a fixed character. Once he is revealed as an out-and-out villain, I think his character is undermined until it's no longer very cohesive. It would've been great to see Imreil and Sidonie square against a really *competent* enemy, like Melisande or Waldemar Selig had been.
Odds and ends:
"Who are you?"
"Imriel de la Courcel."
"The missing prince?"
"More often than not," I agreed.
Cute! :)
Also, Euskerri caucusing, heh. (They are meant to be Basques, I guess?) And Imriel play-acting Gallus Tadius (whom I'd always liked).