Too Like the Lightning: Book One of Terra Ignota (Terra Ignota, 1)

I had been excited for Too Like the Lightning for at least eighteen months before it was published. Ada Palmer is a historian (specializing in the development of thought, religion, and philosophy in the Renaissance, among other related topics); she is the blogger behind Ex Urbe, in which she makes complex topics (like the influence of Machiavelli on modern humanism, or the various art-historical aspects of Catholic saints, or the many layers of history stacked on top of each other in Florence and Rome) accessible to the lay reader. I’d been following her blog for a few years when I attended a panel she was on at Loncon 3, during which she mentioned that she was working on a novel that addressed historical ideas of how governments and countries worked, combined with the distributed-culture model that the Internet and social media seem to be developing. I read it shortly after its publication in early 2016, and it was one of the novels on my nominating ballot, so I am certainly pleased to see it among the finalists.The setting of Too Like the Lightning is a utopian culture about five centuries in the future, in which nations are no longer the dominant means by which humanity organizes and governs itself. Rather, humanity is organized into seven “Hives”, each with its own ideals and corresponding form of government, and which are each spread across the planet; most major cities have neighborhoods or districts belonging to several different Hives. There is a baseline set of laws agreed to by all Hives (and that even Hiveless people must abide by), though some people choose even to forgo the protection of those laws in exchange for not being bound by them in their own behavior. Beyond that, each Hive may define and enforce its own laws that apply within its own territories. The seven Hives each have their own character and ideals, and the distinctions between them make it easy for the reader to imagine how they would fit into one Hive versus another; they are rather similar to the Houses of Hogwarts in that way. (Though the Hives are not the only axis along which people sort themselves; most people denote both their Hive and other affiliations through specific, distinctive articles of clothing or accessories. National origin is considered to be one of these affliations, on a par with membership in a professional society or hobby group.)Against this backdrop, we have our story, written by a self-admitted unreliable narrator, Mycroft Canner, the most notorious criminal of the last few decades. Canner has as a result been sentenced to a lifetime of public servitude, but the same qualities that enabled him to commit a world-spanning series of grisly, torturous murders (the motive of which remains opaque, as we get tiny bits of detail about his crimes over the course of the book) also make him an indispensable servant to several of the most powerful people in the world. Through his viewpoint, we get a slowly unfolding story of the use and abuse of power, triggered by a theft of information that for some reason threatens the balance of power among the world’s governments. The investigation of that theft culminates in the slow realization that this society is not quite as utopian as it may have appeared, and that in fact its stability is only maintained through covert and unethical means. The heads of the seven Hive governments, in theory a set of independent peers, are tangled together in an incestuous web of intrigue and power struggles. Meanwhile, the appearance of a boy with unusual paranormal powers, thus far kept hidden from the public, threatens that stability in a different way. Too Like the Lightning closes with the world balanced on a knife’s edge, and the question that remains isn’t whether the utopia that has prevented war among humanity for two centuries will collapse, but rather when and how it will inevitably do so.As the first part of the Terra Ignota series, planned to span four books, Too Like the Lightning avoids resolving any of its plotlines; it is essentially a tour of the world that puts all the interlocking parts of the narrative in motion, gradually revealing both backstory and the intrigues of the present. The climax of the book is essentially the reader’s realization of just how fragile the Hive system actually is, clarifying one mystery that had been subtly threaded through the storyline but still presenting us with several others. The next book in the series, Seven Surrenders, was released earlier this year, and it’s going to be one of the first things I pick up as soon as I’m done with my Hugo reading.I do have a few minor complaints about the story so far. The description of how the current society was developed from our present-day post-Westphalian system of nation-states feels a little contrived, as is the notion that our single viewpoint character – a known murderer, at that – is, of the billions of people on the planet, among the closest confidantes of the most powerful people in nearly every Hive. But those inventions, artificial though they may feel, certainly contribute to the way the story is told, giving the reader a personal, ground-level look at the secrets and intrigues that drive the politics of the world. Though, as one of the author’s specialties as a historian is the politics of Renaissance-era Italy, the tight web of interpersonal connections tying together all of the Hive leaders feels similar to the politics and intrigue among the various factions of that period.Too Like the Lightning was one of my favorite books of 2016, but I feel like Terra Ignota hasn’t quite hit its stride yet; for its length and complexity, it feels in retrospect like very little happens in the first book. Still, with all the pieces in place, I am happily anticipating the fractures and strife yet to come in this doomed utopia, and I think Seven Surrenders will be even better.

Ada Palmer's TOO LIKE THE LIGHTNING is yet another first novel on this year's Best Novel Hugo finalists list. Palmer has delivered a very complex, involved, and intriguing novel, one that deals with complicated issues of religion, politics, gender, and war in an historical style that will probably take the reader some getting used to. It may be a struggle for some folks; it was for me at first. But once my head got into the space the story was using, the novel flowed and kept me engaged until the end.The time is the mid-2450s. The planet has undergone a vast world war with religion and America at the center of it all. A new world order has been put in place, but it appears to be a very draconian one. Public discussions of religion - including traditional faith gatherings as we currently know them - have been outlawed. Normal gender classifications and distinctions are now taboo (this does result in what I think is a bit of a problem with the handling of gender pronouns, with "they, them, and their" sometime being interchangeably used with his and hers, but I suspect we'll find out more in the coming volumes of the story). Written documents (such as the book itself) are subject to violence, sexuality, religious, and offensive opinion (which kind of frightens me) ratings.All of this has been put in place as the cost for a near utopia built on abundance. The population lives in a world that has no borders in terms of citizenship - it really doesn't matter where you live, since you can claim allegiance to any country on the planet you like. The economy is controlled a number of groups called Hives, which have complex interactions with each other and the population. Crime is still a problem, even with the abundance of resources that is available to everyone. The punishments, though, are handled differently. A criminal is sentenced to being a Servicer. Servicers have no possessions. They must go about the world doing good deeds in support of their fellow humans.(I could go on for a lot longer about the world building that Palmer did for this novel, but it would take up the entire review, and I don't think you want that.)So, Mycroft Canner is a Servicer. Carlyle Foster is a Sensayer, a sort of spiritual counselor in a world that has abolished religion. While a Servicer's life is simple, a Sensayer's calling is not. With a job of counselor to a population that still believes in something greater than themselves, Foster's life is one long balancing act. Foster is assigned as the new Sensayer to a family which controls the usage of all cars on the planet (except for those of the Utopian Hive - like I said, it's complicated). On his first visit to the bash Foster stumbles upon a secret that Canner is already aware of since he is there performing service for the family. The secret, a boy name Bridger, could upend the balanced utopia because of what he can do - make his wishes come true. And thus the novel begins.But of course, nothing is that simple. Pretty soon, the political wheels start spinning, and everything we've learned about society in the 2450s is turned completely upside down and around to the point where we're really not sure what's going on. We eventually do find out what Mycroft Canner's crime was (and if you are squeamish you may want to zip through that section about 250 pages into the book), and that there is more to him and the rest of the government that meets the eye. Throw in an additional crime of a stolen modified "Seven-Ten" list - think a popularity list published by the main newspaper of the various Hives upon which the economic stability of the planet is resting - and you have a recipe for a very intriguing story that starts one way, but ends another.There's a lot of misdirection going on in this novel. Mycroft, Carlyle, and all the rest of the cast are definitely not what they appeared to be when we first meet each of them as the novel unfolds. The political intertwining that becomes apparent as the novel approaches its conclusion is enough to make your head spin not only on its axis 360, but along the *other* axis (think shoulder-to-shoulder) 360 degrees as well. I don't think any character in this book can be trusted.As I already mentioned, it takes some time (well, it took me some time, anyway) to get into the novel's style. The (apparently) inconsistent use of gender pronouns is difficult to follow, at least at first. And while I don't mind the speculation of the handling of religion, sex, and violence by the society depicted in the novel, it may be a bit disturbing to some. After all was said and done, I found the book to be well worth the time and effort I put into it, although its abrupt ending with the realization that there are more books to follow (one more to tell the tale of Mycroft Canner, and four in all for the Terra Ignota series made me wish I didn't like it so much (see my statement about discovering new authors in my review of Yoon Ha Lee's NINEFOX GAMBIT).But I did like it, and I certainly am looking forward to the next book in the series, SEVEN SURRENDERS, to be published later this year. I look forward to the continuation of Mycroft's tale. I suspect it will also be well worth my time.

Have you ever wanted 18th century French aristocracy in a sci-fi novel? Or a futuristic glorification of the Enlightenment? If so, this book is for you, with descriptions as opulent as the characters and setting it describes. I sincerely hope the author wins the awards they are so evidently vying for.

I always try to finish a book once started but I was sorely tempted to delete this from my Kindle. It felt as if I had been reading for a fortnight but I was only a third of the way through. Later it gets better ie there is more attention paid to plot rather than philosophy. The episode in the Parisian brothel is the worst of it; we are introduced to a “nun” with over three pages of personal history and philosophy to be passed on to a group who go on to discuss Diderot, de Sade and Rousseau, all very erudite but what is the point? The discursive style does not help one little bit, the various quotation marks denoting different languages confusing - including a conversation in Latin! - and the variation in personal pronouns is bewildering. Anne Leckie’s Imperial Radch series did that much better. The problem even shame is that underneath all this dross is a very good and wonderfully imaginative story but told in a deliberately obscure way and leaves me wondering whether I should bother with the other “half” though there are two more published and another on the way! In TV terms this is a pilot for a new series and I do not think I would watch it.

Imagine there's no countriesIt isn't hard to doNothing to kill or die forAnd no religion, tooImagine all the peopleLiving life in peace.It is almost as if Ada Palmer has reviewed the words of John Lennon's 'Imagine' and posed the question 'well what if there WAS no religion? What if there was nothing to fight over? How would that world work?'And so in the world of 'Too Like the Lightning', in the middle of the 25th Century there are no proselytizing religions. Belief is purely a private matter, for discussion of the individual with their counsellor (sensayer). Three people, meeting together and talking of God constitutes a Church meeting, and is proscribed by law. The 'Church Wars' saw to that.Nation states are no more, with humanity affiliated instead into seven Hives of the like-minded, whose globe spanning clans have also replaced the nuclear family with the bash' (from the Japanese i-basho), groupings of four to twenty friends, rearing ideas and and children together in their private havens of discourse and play. Masons, Humanists, Gordians, Cousins, Utopians, Mitsubishi, Europeans and the Hiveless all have a role to play.Fundamental to the function of the world is the existence of cheap, rapid and reliable transport. The Mukhta, the really truly flying car connects the world and obliterates distance. one can live in Chile, work in London, and be home in time for dinner.The Saneer-Weeksbooth bash' has the responsibility for maintaining and controlling the system which manages the cars. Hundreds of millions of lightning fast transits every day. They are the most important people in the world.Into the bash' comes Mycroft Canner, our unreliable narrator. Mycroft is a 'servicer', fated to make himself useful as punishment for initially unspecified crimes in his past. Mycroft relates the events of a very critical seven days, days on which it seems, the fate of the world will depend. Palmer cloaks Mycroft's commentary in prose reminiscent of the 18th century, which is appropriate, because she has cherry-picked and warped the ideas of the Enlightenment to build this world for our enjoyment. The subject of the story begins with the investigation into the theft of the 'Seven-Ten List', which is quite simply, a selection of the 'most influential' personages in the world. The theft it seems, may be associated with the Saneer-Weeksbooth bash'. But more importantly, the bash' has a secret. The boy Bridger, who it seems, can make wishes come true....There is a lot to like here. The story is new and inventive, and after initial orientation, the tone of the narration works well. It is rare to find a story of utopia, rather than the dime a dozen dystopias which are the currency of near future fiction these days. Of course, below the surface, perhaps it is not so perfect after all.I did however, find it hard to comprehend why the 'Seven-Ten List', even if stolen could be of much consequence, given that these lists are the opinions of a journalists and commentators. Whilst the world is well conceived, it focuses exclusively on the lives of the elite and influential, without giving a glimpse of how the ruled pass their lives. And, perhaps not surprisingly, since the Enlightenment is largely a European idea, it is overly Eurocentric. Africa and South East Asia seem to have disappeared, whist the Mitsibushi hive is seemingly the ghetto for inscrutable orientals.Be warned that the story ends suddenly, and is not resolved. You need to read the sequel, 'Seven Surrenders', to get the rest of the tale.

Too Like the Lighning is clearly only the first volume of a longer book.The quality of writing is excellent. Pacing is good (for those who read fast enough), and speeds up after the first 100 pages or so. It's quite a demanding book with few concessions to readers who struggle to understand what is going on; it's certainly not a typical modern fantasy, SF or dystopia and trying to read it by scanning or skimming past words will make it hard to follow. I'd suggest potential readers read the Look Inside before committing.Content is challenging and thought-provoking too. I'm not sure how much I will agree with the author's perspective and suspect that I won't know until I read the whole series. I'm very much looking forward to doing that.

This is a stunningly good novel, a social science fiction set in 25th century where people belong to 'bashes' - from the Japanese basho - clans where the similarity is in philosophy rather than national background, and religion is all but outlawed after horrific religious wars. There is a particular reverence for the European, particularly the French, enlightenment and the book, narrated by a servicer - a former criminal whose sentence is to serve the public - is written somewhat in the style of an 18th century novel, complete with regular direct addresses to the reader.It is a very dense book - not so much in the language, although there are huge stretches of dialogue that are rather heavy - but in ideas and plot. While there are many overt references to great thinkers, from Rousseau and Diderot to de Sade - there are many more subtle, and I am sure many more that I will have missed due to a shameful lack of knowledge of the subject. Much of the plot revolves around the machinations of the more powerful bashes, with a large cast of characters, and brought to mind the politics of Frank Herbert's Dune books. Adding to the possible confusion of characters is a trend of several of the more politically important to be known by different names in different cultures, although the quality of the writing mitigates against this and it forms part of the cultural colour of the novel.Also amongst the threads of philosophy and plot we grapple with crime and redemption, on learning the offences that lead Mycroft, our narrator, to lose his liberty. Another trope that reflects on an issue of our present is a fluidity of gender - indeed, a cultural belief that someone's gender is almost beyond the pale to mention.This is a stunning achievement, a novel of depth and texture and simply wonderful writing. I almost can't wait for the second half of the story, although I think I may cleanse my palate with some lighter fare first.

I've started some fairly out-there trilogies this year, and this certainly counts as the latest.Very definitely a labour of love - Palmer's dedication to the incredibly complex world she's created drips off every page. The writing is often beautiful, always engaging, and very learnéd... and there's such a lot of it. Palmer does not limit herself to the continuation of plot, quite happily diverging into often unrelated matters. These never fail to interest, but I cannot decide whether or not I wish she exhibited more self-restraint - the book is complex enough with just the story at hand. It screams for a glossary, or at the very least a Dramatis Personae (characters have many names, usually shared). The latter instance, considering many of the plot revelations, would have to be handled well so as not to spoil things, but would still clear up a lot of unnecessary confusion on the reader's part.And confusion is the first problem with Too Like the Lightning. Palmer pulls none of her punches and throws the reader in at the deep end, using a questionable narrator drawing ready comparison to Wolfe's Severian. Moments of clarity are few, and no single character is 100% relatable-to or fully understandable in motive - a fluid commodity for most here. Also: there is a LOT of conversation. Nicely written conversation, certainly, but Palmer tends to resolve most things, or reveal most things, by the spoken word (whatever language her characters choose to employ). Finally, and this is probably TLtL's main failing point, there's little action. This keeps the novel from fully favourable comparisons to Wolfe, Zindell, or even headier authors like Hugo (yup, some of it aspires to that kind of quality), who all gave us some cracking action sequences. I think Elvis wrote a song about it.Patience is a definite requirement for TLtL. I will continue the trilogy - the sheer quality and love on show cannot be denied. Once completed, I think I may even reread it. But it'll be a reread with reservation (I don't expect many tonal changes between books) - a reread with less enjoyment and more admiration.