Romanitas by Sophia McDougall

A slave waits to be crucified; a desperate young girl with strange abilities stalks through the streets of London; a gang of fugitives hides out in the Pyrenees, while on giant screens in every city, the world watches the funeral of the Imperial family's most glamorous couple.

Magnetic railways span the globe and slaves are constructing a giant bridge over the Persian Gulf. A single state holds absolute sway, but as tensions with a rival Empire escalate, the first rumblings of a world conflict are beginning to be felt. Meanwhile, only an overworked official doubts that the deaths of the Emperor's war-hero brother and his beautiful, charismatic wife were accidental. The sixteen-year-old heir to the throne is about to learn a secret that threatens the greatest power on earth - and his own life.

Sophia McDougall's novel Romanitas is an awesome sweep of alternate history, with a Rome that still exists in the 21st Century; fantasy, thanks to Sulien and Una, two slaves with more than a touch of the supernatural about powers they display; and science fiction, with an environment that pushes the boundaries of science as it exists now. It is an exploration into how to write a novel that transcends genre and purely concentrates on story.

For me, both the biggest strength and the biggest challenge of Romanitas was the epic, lush nature of the prose. For my sins, I do like an easy novel. I like something I can whip through in a few days and move onto the next. Disposable, I guess you'd say. Romanitas is pretty much the opposite of this. It is not a book to be read at speed, it is a book to be read slowly and savoured. You end up sinking into the richness of the prose and the sharp descriptions.

Romanitas is also imbued with a fierce intelligence and a love of language that echoes the best of China Mieville.

McDougall - fittingly, since she is one of the few contracted female science fiction authors in the UK at the moment - does a good turn in a strong female character. Una is to be cherished. She is not a fair maiden to be rescued - in fact, we first meet her in the action of trying to save her brother. She is also not completely kick ass and unbeatable - on one occasion, she rues the fact that she is not bigger and stronger, because she is captured far too easily. She is realistic - all spiky attitude, defensiveness, vulnerability, wonderment. She is completely three dimensional and believable and everything you'd want from a good female protagonist.

Thanks to the fact that slavery is still rife in this modern-day Roman Empire, McDougall spends some time exploring how that can affect relationships in a culture that values connections and celebrity. It is enormously interesting seeing the picture from both the lowest and highest points of society - Una and Sulien show the darkest side of slavery and the desperate lives they end up living; while Marcus demonstrates that living a gilded life is not exactly a picnic in the park either.

This is a clever, entertaining and thought-provoking novel. McDougall has presented us with a vividly imagined alternate world that frames the relationships between the main characters. Prepare to fall in love with Una! It is both powerful and extraordinary, and merits far more literary discussion. Excellent.

Galileo's Dream by Kim Stanley Robinson

Publisher's Blurb (courtesy of Harper Voyager): Late Renaissance Italy abounds in alchemy and Aristotle, yet it trembles on the brink of the modern world. Galileo's new telescope encapsulates all the contradictions of this emerging reality. Then one night a stranger presents a different type of telescope for Galileo to peer through, enabling him to see the world of humans three thousand years hence. Galileo will soon find himself straddling two worlds, the medieval and the modern. By day his life unfurls in early seventeenth century Italy; by night he is transported through dimensions of time and space no other man of his time could possibly comprehend. Inexorably, Galileo faces trial for religious crimes in his own time, while in the new world he discovers, where science assures men that they can perform wonders, but does not tell them what wonders to perform, he is revered.

Galileo's Dream is, first and foremost, a masterclass in how to write historical fiction. Much of the novel is based in Renaissance Italy, following Galileo at what most consider to be the height of his fame before he is embroiled in disputes with the Church. Life in Italy, the importance of religion, the baby steps being taken towards scientific understanding - all of these are brought to glorious life, with wonderful descriptive passages and the use of Galileo's letters to enforce the events he was living through. I confess that I would have been hugely satisfied with an historical novel that purely explored the life and times of Galileo.

Kim Stanley Robinson, however, intersperses the historical passages with brief visits to the far-flung moons of Jupiter - Galileo travelling through both time and space to discover the colonised moons in 3020. To begin with, these passages felt as though they were shoehorned into the novel in a clumsy fashion, with the reader suffering the same confusion as the Galileo of this novel must have suffered. The passages set in the future were roughly sketched, the worldbuilding not living up to the meticulously researched historical sections. Eventually, you become used to the rough transitions, but I never enjoyed them, and I grew frustrated at the fact that each time Galileo returned from his future visits, his memory was partially cleared of events experienced in the future.

As well as the excellent historical sections, for me the greatest strength of this novel - the factor that gave it both humour and heart - was the stunning characterisation of Galileo Galilei. This is a man who infuriated many of his contemporaries - arrogant, stubborn, opinionated. A man who was liable to forget the day to day running of his household, who was able to commit his daughters to difficult lives. And yet also a visionary - a towering historical figure who gave so much to the world of science. All of this, and more, Kim Stanley Robinson manages to commit to paper - Galileo lives on through this novel.

Ultimately, then, Galileo's Dream is a richly rewarding read that I thoroughly enjoyed. My main issue with it is the pacing created by the dual storylines - this caused me no end of frustration because, at heart, I felt this should have been a straight historical novel. I would recommend this book to those who have even a passing interest in the progression of science. It is excellently written and the "frustrated genius" of Galileo takes centre stage.

Arthur Clarke thoughts: Hmm, Galileo's Dream is yet another solid entry into the short list of six books - and, once again (I feel I am constantly repeating myself in these short analyses) it is a completely different novel from the other five. It brings the science to science fiction, in this case - exploring actual science as well as taking us on a space opera journey to future worlds. It is massively deserving of its place as a finalist, not least of which because this novel shows the continual fascination with science that gave us science fiction in the first place (I think I have expressed that in a rather clumsy manner - but it is the truth that without men such as Galileo and Newton, we wouldn't have such a desire to look at what might be achieved through the use of science). Kim Stanley Robinson's enormous affection for his subject matter shines through, and gives us a novel which is possibly the most honest of the six. I don't think it will win - but I secretly want it to.

The City And The City by China Mieville

Summary: The City And The City is a hard-boiled detective novel with a difference. Set in a location that feels very Eastern European in tone, and not far removed from a real place, we follow Inspector Tyador Borlu of the Extreme Crime Squad as he begins investigations into the body of a murdered woman. The very effective spin that Mieville uses, which moves this novel from the crime shelves in the bookstores to the SFF shelves, is that the setting is actually two cities existing in the same location, governed in a sinister fashion by Breach. Borlu lives in Beszel, a grim city with featureless concrete and rattling trams, where the citizens wear few colours. The other city is Ul Qoma, and both cities exist in the same time and space. The citizens of each have learned from a young age to unsee and unsense the people and buildings of the other city. In the event that, say, a citizen of Ul Qoma acknowledges a citizen of Beszel, they are then subject to the jurisdiction of Breach.

"But pass through Copula Hall and she or he might leave Beszel, and at the end of the hall come back to exactly (corporeally) where they had just been, but in another country, a tourist, a marvelling visitor, to a street that shared the latitude-longitude of their own address, a street they had never visited before, whose architecture they had always unseen, to the Ul Qoman house sitting next to and a whole city away from their own building, unvisible there now they had come through, all the way across the Breach, back home."


My review: I have a couple of China Mieville books on my shelf already, and confess to never having picked them up so far. Somehow I thought they would be pretentious and wordy, and I could never quite tell which genre something like 'Perdido Street Station' fell under. When I decided to do the Arthur Clark shortlist read, I was both interested in reading my first Mieville book, but also feeling a little dread at the idea of picking up something that seemed so meta and impossibly clever. In fact, I will confess something more: I picked The City And The City up first out of the six to get it over with.

Having set the scene, I can now state categorically that this is one of the most powerful SFF books I have ever read, and is without doubt my top read of 2010 so far. I found it unbelievably accessible (especially considering my unfounded view of Mieville's work); stunningly imaginative and constantly entertaining. I am willing to abuse adjectives at length to convey my extremely high opinion of this book.

So why did I enjoy it so much? This is where the review becomes harder to write. Sometimes you just 'click' with a book and enjoy it thoroughly. This definitely happened. But it was more than that. While I read each page, I felt as though I was reading something important, clever and classic. In fact, I imagine the way I felt reading The City And The City would be the way the first person felt when picking up Dracula or Frankenstein: enjoying the book for what it is (a darn good story) but also conscious that this novel is something special and has the potential to resonate through generations of readers.

The story was tight, well-written, with excellent pacing. Thanks to the rather slight nature of the novel (a mere 312 pages, in my hardback edition), I found that there were no erroneous scenes or indulgently bloated descriptions - everything felt very lean, and helped lend the plot a driving urgency.

I enjoyed the characters. In particular, the first person perspective of Borlu enables us to experience the frustration, the fear and the eventual fall-out of the investigation. His familiarity with the city of Beszel immediately gives Ul Qoma an exotic flavour, giving strength to the concept that these are two very separate places co-existing in the same location. He is ably assisted by a short cast of secondary characters, with their own motivations and foibles. None of these characters felt at all as though they were purely there to drive the story along - all of them felt fully-realised.

The way that Mieville declines to really delve into the back story of his main character is also well-done. It is not necessary for the plot, and therefore we catch only a glimpse, a mere snapshot, into the life of Borlu. This for me was far more effective writing and had more of an impact than if Mieville had lovingly dwelt on events that were in the past and had no relevance at all to the present time.

Beyond all of that, and the exceptionally clear descriptions of the two cities, concept is everything. If this had been a straight-up detective novel, I would have enjoyed it thoroughly, what with the twists and red herrings thrown into the mix as well. Add into that the notion of these two cities co-existing - allowing Mieville to explore issues such as nationalism, patriotism and a 'big brother' entity - and you have a killer novel that delivers on every level.

This will be one of the very rare reviews when I do not strive to find something that I disliked to balance the review. It would be nitpicking for the sake of it, and I'm not sure I could honestly find something that I didn't like enough to discuss it impartially.

Arthur Clark thoughts: When I picked up this book, I didn't know that it was about to pick up the BSFA award, or be nominated for a Hugo, although that has now happened. What I do know is that, even without those two events occurring, I would still be holding this book up as probably the one that should and will win. I am prepared to be swayed as I read the other five books in the shortlist, but I am unsure if any can top the sheer breathtaking imagination of The City and The City. I just hope that I don't find the rest a disappointment!

The System of the World - Neal Stephenson

The System of the World is the third book in Neal Stephenson's Baroque Cycle - well, the last three books, since Stephenson actually wrote eight books that made up the cycle which were then published to form a trilogy. Here the majority of the action takes place in London, where virtually all of the protagonists we have been following end up bringing the story to a mighty conclusion.

The basic plot is that of a murder mystery, but comprises many other components. Daniel Waterhouse has completed his epic trip back across the Atlantic at the urging of Princess Caroline. She wished him to bring about the reconciliation of those two mighty Philosophers Leibniz and Newton. In the process of which he ends up stumbling across Jack's scheme to debase English currency (which he is being blackmailed into by the King of France and the dastardly Edouard de Gex). Trying to summarise the plot - the many strands and the different events - is difficult without having to repeat what happened in earlier books or flick through many pages trying to remind myself of exactly who Saturn was and why the Tsar of Russia made an appearance.

The cast of characters is enormous and it can be difficult to keep them separate at times, although our main characters have become extremely three dimensional. Daniel, Eliza (although she makes a small appearance in this volume), Jack, Isaac Newton, Dappa, Bob Shaftoe, Ravenscar, Princess Caroline, Leibniz - all these characters become beloved and it is of interest to see what happens to all of them.

The three volumes as a whole - the Baroque Cycle - are a truly amazing achievement. It is nigh on 3000 pages dense with facts, with ideas, with characters, with exciting escapes and political machinations. We are shown the beginnings of the world system that we know today - with law enforcement, political parties (Whigs and Tories), real estate and, of course, currency. Either this was written as a fact or Stephenson came up with an extremely clever idea in that currency is called such because of the current of money flowing into London, in this case. There are many such moments during all three books, where you marvel at the level of research and detail that has gone into every element of the story.

It is interesting that these books are almost always shelved in the fantasy/sci fi section but, barring the presence of Enoch Root and his little procedure (I shall not say more, for fear of spoiling certain things!) they are more historical in nature.

One of my disappointments in this and the previous books is the pacing - we can go from thrilling page-turning events into a deep philosophical discourse and this can make the reader grind to a halt. Despite the exciting nature of the plot in general, there were times when I felt as though it was a struggle to read any further, and this is a sad fact when considering that this should be a series read by everyone. It is a classic in the making - or would be, barring the slow and turgid prose at times. Having said that, it didn't do Tolkien any harm and some people may, in fact, find this one of the charming aspects of Stephenson's writing.

I am extremely glad that I read this series, but I shall not be embarking on a re-read for many, many years - if at all. However, I do have the notion that the characters and events will niggle and stay with me - the mark of a book that has had a big effect on me. This should have been a five star experience, but I keep it to four stars purely because of the difficulty of the reading. Recommended (with reservations!)

The Confusion - Neal Stephenson

I am entirely perplexed by this trilogy! Usually by the time I have read the first book in a trilogy - let alone the second - I know well whether I am intending to keep the series for an indulgent re-read in the future. After reading Quicksilver, I had been intrigued enough to read The Confusion but felt that overall I would be discarding the series.

What a difference a book makes! Over the course of this second book, I found myself musing on the story even while I was not reading about the continued adventures of Eliza and Jack. This book is reward for struggling through the first, which was enormously dense and detailed.

The book is shared between Eliza (Juncto) and Jack (Bonanza), their stories intertwining. We find Jack alive and well, and free from the French pox (syphilis). He has been captured by Barbary pirates and his tale involves a convoluted plot between him and other members of the Cabal - to capture a shipment of gold that will lead to their fortunes being made. His story leads him across the world - through the Far East and finally taking a dangerous trip to Acapulco. The capture of the gold has massive repercussions across the world, affecting many including Eliza, who starts her story being waylaid by Jean Bart and carried back to France, where she once again begins manipulating trade.

This time both stories are equally gripping for one reason or another, and the skipping between both allows Stephenson to develop two different tones - the formal, slow burning plot of Eliza and the swashbuckling adventures of Jack Shaftoe.

Many, many characters take centre stage here and become beloved to the reader over the course of 800 pages. Obviously Jack and Eliza will have the attention of the reader, but there is also Leibniz (the dignified and friendly Natural Philosopher who has befriended Eliza from the beginning); Bob Shaftoe (brother of Jack, more upright and stolid); Princess Caroline (beautiful and fiercely intelligent); and the many entertaining members of the Cabal.

We also see the beginnings of Minerva - the ship that is carrying Daniel Waterhouse back to England at the start of the first book in the trilogy - and meet her captain van Hoek (a Dutch captain who feels the need to shed body parts when in gravest danger).

Altogether I am being overwhelmed gradually by the trilogy of books, and can find much to love about them. On the flipside, the writing is still inpenetrable at times and leaves me feeling confused as to what is actually occuring. At times the pacing of the story is woeful - leaving spells where I actually avoid picking up the book, although curiosity in the fates of Jack and Eliza always brings me back.

I would tentatively recommend this book to everyone I know - with the proviso that it is still not *easy* reading (and that they have to suffer through book one to reach the heights of book two).

Quicksilver - Neal Stephenson

It is so very hard to classify Quicksilver - the first in an extremely weighty trilogy (this book alone weighs in at over 900 pages!) Is it fantasy? Is it science fiction? It is historical? It most certainly is dense, dull, delightful and dry.

The book is split into three different sections. The first of these looks back on Daniel Waterhouse's early life in London and his association with the Royal Society and the pre-eminent philosophers, mathematicians, astronomers and scientists of that time, including Isaac Newton. This period of the book can be extremely difficult reading, and needs intense concentration. Even with that, I found myself struggling with the esoteric vocabulary used and the overwhelming amount of science on display. I find science and maths difficult at the best of times, and this book did nothing to ease me - often I found myself understanding only one paragraph in three and had to really persevere to get through this section. There was light relief periodically from present-day Daniel, travelling by ship back to England and being pursued by pirates. One thing I enjoyed immensely about this part of the book - science aside - was the way that Stephenson conveyed the wonder and mystery of the discoveries that were coming thick and fast, driven by certain people whose ideas have not been surpassed even now.

The second part of the book dealt with Eliza and Jack Shaftoe. This section flew past in a flurry of giggles and adventure, including an amusing interlude with an ostrich and a Turkish harem. Jack is a lively character, seemingly destined to die from the French pox (syphilis), but determined to make a life for himself and generate an inheritance for his two boys. Eliza is enigmatic, alluring and tom-boyish by turns - both drawn to Jack and repelled by him. They travel together across a lot of Europe and end up in Amsterdam, where Jack leaves Eliza to make his fortune in Paris and ends up on a ship bound for deepest Africa. I loved this part of the book, and it more than made up for the dryness of the first section.

The last part draws all the threads of the story together, culminating in the revolution that Waterhouse has spent his life working towards. There is intrigue, and gripping letters between Leibniz and Eliza, who, by now, is the Countess de la Zeur. James II is overthrown and Daniel suffers a spell in prison.

So, all in all, a massive book with massive ideas and massive characters. It should have been unbelievable and unforgettable, but I was left feeling a little as though it were too much work. I will read the other two volumes in the trilogy for completeness, but I don't embark on them with a lightness of spirit!