“Magic, Quentin discovered, wasn’t romantic at all. It was grim and repetitive and deceptive. And he worked his ass off and became very good at it.”  - Lev Grossman, The Magicians Every aspect of Lev Grossman’s 2009 fantasy novel The Magicians is a brushstroke in a painting depicting the horrors of growing up and facing the realizations of adulthood. Many of these strokes are intentional, as I’ll discuss and which you’ll see in the quotes I’ve included throughout this piece. A few instead arise from the act of reading and engaging with the novel. Any pitch which accurately portrays The Magicians as a fascinating and adult blending of Harry Potter, Narnia and The Secret History will leave a bitter taste in your mouth when you learn just how unpleasant the narration can be at times. (Point-of-view character Quentin Coldwater is a little toxic and insular to begin with, growing into a real asshole over the course of the book until an abrupt and arguably unearned change of heart at the eleventh hour.) Of course it’s impossible for this book — or any — to be perfect. Welcome to adulthood. “Sometimes I wonder if man was really meant to discover magic … If there’s a single lesson that life teaches us, it’s that wishing doesn’t make it so. Words and thoughts don’t change anything. Language and reality are kept strictly apart—reality is tough, unyielding stuff, and it doesn’t care what you think or feel or say about it. Or it shouldn’t. You deal with it, and you get on with your life. Little children don’t know that. Magical thinking: that’s what Freud called it. Once we learn otherwise we cease to be children. The separation of word and thing is the essential fact on which our adult lives are founded.” ― Lev Grossman, The Magicians That quote comes from Dean Fogg, headmaster of Brakebills magic school, on the night of Quentin’s graduation. In any other fantasy novel, this message would be incredibly positive — maintaining one’s childhood imagination and sense of wonder is fundamental to the genre. Here, it is instead wistful and a little foreboding; it questions everything the students have done for the past five years, as well as most of Fogg’s own life. Quentin’s class has more reason than most to question the presence of magic in their lives. During a long and frustrating lecture in their third year, Quentin follows a sudden urge to get one over on their professor by distracting him in the middle of a long and complex spell. He succeeds, causing Professor March to forget a single syllable, and The Beast appears in the room as though it has always been there. It looks like a man in a simple grey suit, with a face obscured by a branch of leaves hanging in space. The Beast, whose face is obscured by a swarm of moths in the show - by Kris & Jen This scene is a marvel of abject tension, fear and regret for Quentin. (Apparently it is also one of the best scenes of the adaptation, though the number of departures from the book put me off a little.) He, the class and Professor March find themselves locked in place for hours while The Beast explores the environment with idle curiosity. One student (her bravery and magical skill evoke a certain House, if not character, from Harry Potter) manages to break free and attempts to attack The Beast, and is eaten alive for her trouble. In the end The Beast simply disappears of its own accord, despite the combined efforts of the school’s faculty to break into the room. A crucial part of the scene hitting home for me is the incredible soreness of everyone’s muscles when they are finally released; they were literally trapped in place, rather than being frozen in time, and feel every minute of that incredible physical stress afterward. “I have a little theory that I'd like to air here, if I may. What is it that you think makes you magicians?" More silence. Fogg was well into rhetorical-question territory now anyway. He spoke more softly. "Is it because you are intelligent? Is it because you are brave and good? Is it because you're special? Maybe. Who knows. But I'll tell you something: I think you're magicians because you're unhappy. A magician is strong because he feels pain. He feels the difference between what the world is and what he would make of it. Or what did you think that stuff in your chest was? A magician is strong because he hurts more than others. His wound is his strength. Most people carry that pain around inside them their whole lives, until they kill the pain by other means, or until it kills them. But you, my friends, you found another way: a way to use the pain. To burn it as fuel, for light and warmth. You have learned to break the world that has tried to break you.” ― Lev Grossman, The Magicians I love the sentiment that Dean Fogg is conveying in this quote, since it brings together the seemingly disparate aspects of prolonged childhood and brutal reality that the book is dedicated to exploring. Magic is the key to making the change you are desperate to see in the world. Unfortunately, the wrong characters are hearing it — as will become clear, Quentin remains lost for much of the book to come. It could be that the author just wanted to squeeze this idea in, regardless of whether it fit (I've done that once or twice in my time). But I think it works. After all, when is the right time to hear a wake-up call about the meaning and direction of your life? Isn't there always something else that seems more immediately important, which holds your focus in spite of any argument to the contrary? It's been a few years since I read the sequels, and I'll be curious on returning to see whether Fogg's words ever ring true for Quentin and his friends. As far as The Magicians is concerned, purposelessness is the true enemy. The Magicians: New Class variant cover art by Alexa Sharpe “You don’t have to do anything. This is what you don’t understand! You don’t know any older magicians except our professors. It’s a wasteland out there. Out here. You can do nothing or anything or everything, and none of it matters. You have to find something to really care about to keep from running totally off the rails. A lot of magicians never find it … I know you think it’s going to be all quests and dragons and fighting evil and whatever, like in Fillory. I know that’s what you think. But it’s not. You don’t see it yet. There’s nothing out there … It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be so much harder than you think. They don’t even know, Quentin. They think they’re happy. That’s the worst part.” ― Lev Grossman, The Magicians Alice Quinn is a classmate of Quentin's who had to fight for her place at Brakebills after her brother died while attending the school. Her parents are skilled magicians undertaking niche arcane pursuits, but simultaneously are barely functional as people. She is terrified of following in their footsteps and tries to get this through to Quentin when they begin dating, but he just can't get there. Even seeing the abyss for himself doesn't stick: “But where was he going to go, exactly? It was not considered the thing to look panicked or even especially concerned about graduation, but everything about the world after Brakebills felt dangerously vague and underthought to Quentin. The bored, bedraggled specters of Alice’s parents haunted him. What was he going to do? What exactly? Every ambition he’d ever had in his life had been realized the day he was admitted to Brakebills, and he was struggling to formulate a new one with any kind of practical specificity … the worldwide magical ecology was suffering from a serious imbalance: too many magicians, not enough monsters.” ― Lev Grossman, The Magicians It can be terrifying to take a second and really consider our place in the world; That's part of why we work and play so damn much. The Magicians removes any need for work — though amusingly enough, Brakebills regularly places graduates in pointless corporate administrative jobs to give them something to do — and takes the fun out of most mundane play. Quentin graduates with the ability to shape the world to meet his desires with the flick of his wrist, and does nothing with it except lose himself in drugs and alcohol alongside a few of his classmates. Cover art for The Magicians Comic by Qistina Khalidah Alice's burning belief and Dean Fogg's moral reflect the reality that Quentin can't see until the bitter end: We need a purpose in this life if we are going to survive it and make any sense of it. Sure, that idea is heightened and confused in a book where the characters go on to explore a world straight out of their children's fantasy novels. But it gets cloudy in our own lives too, doesn't it? Stress can make it nearly impossible to see the forest for the trees which constantly get in our way. As in real life, Quentin's lack of purpose makes him easy prey for the manipulation of others. Following one tasty-looking breadcrumb after another, Quentin gets people hurt and killed while constantly complaining about the injustices done to him. The climax tries to suggest that he suddenly becomes his own character, but that development is followed by two further moments where adventure and opportunity have to come and find him. The world we live in his harsh, complex and vast, and it is all too easy to become lost. It's tough for us to screw up bad enough to summon The Beast and we have a lot of crap in our way before we reach the level of purposelessness of a graduate magician, but it's still important to remember what we're doing and why we're doing it. Choose again. --- I still highly recommend this book and it's sequels, if you have the stomach for Quentin's crap! Then we can chat together about how Alice, Julia and Amanda deserved so much better 😭

What does it mean to exist beyond the limits of our bodies? In my previous two posts I’ve examined depictions of magical and technological transhumanism, by Brandon Sanderson and Adrian Tchaikovsky respectively. Today I’ll close this series out with a few forms of consciousness which don’t quite fit either category, instead rising from alternative science (don’t worry, it's very different from alternative facts). Speculative fiction that includes alternative science is working towards the same goal as your typical science fiction or fantasy: exploring the consequences of human interaction with a novel part of the universe and its mechanics. I tend to think of this ‘part’ as a novum - defined by scholar Darko Suvin in the 70s, though he limited its use to science fiction. Where science fiction says the novum is theoretically possible in science as we understand it and fantasy says it exists only through magic, alternative science says it is possible in a world where science works slightly differently from ours. Perhaps a silly distinction, but these stories often feel more grounded than the ones that simply handwave magical explanations. Transhumanism in The Masquerade Seth Dickinson’s The Masquerade series is one of my absolute favourites, though it has never yet been featured here on Prose and Context. Perhaps better known as the ‘Baru Cormorant’ books, these novels follow the life and struggles of a young lesbian woman against the terrifying reach, influence and machinery of colonialism. Baru in her half-mask by Marceline2174 Baru’s tragic story, her motivations and methods, allies and enemies, are a story for another time. Yet there are two fascinating explorations of transhumanism to be found in the world Seth Dickinson has built around her. Neither is necessarily unique to this series, but I think these are strong examples of the fundamental ideas at play. The first is the more literal, and the more disturbing. The second and third novels in the series explore the Cancrioth, a mysterious group representing an alternative form of government and capable of implanting memories and other attributes through the cultivation and nurturing of different strands of cancer. It is profoundly horrific and fascinating to explore this social, scientific, political and ideological mystery as it is slowly unveiled, because of how much thought Dickinson has put into each of these aspects of his world. Only one of the Canrioth - the Brain - ultimately has the incredible ability to pass on the personalities and knowledge of past hosts. Unfortunately, in this case having multiple people vying for control of a mind fighting brain cancer hasn’t led to the most cogent of leaders. I wanted to explore this through The Masquerade because however grim it is, I think this is the most tangible form of transhumanism to be found in fiction: it doesn’t require vast leaps in technology or for our souls to be reconstituted by beings of pure magic. Just playing with one of the scariest things in our own world, whose functionality has been slightly re-imagined. Retaining predecessors’ memories and personalities has been explored elsewhere and in many ways: Dune (#topical) sees the Reverend Mothers of the Bene Gesserit communing with their female ancestors, encoded in their genome and accessible thanks to a ritual involving the spice melange. Arkady Martine’s Teixcalaan novels feature ‘imago machines’ which allow personalities, professional skills and knowledge to be passed on from person to person - essential on an unstable space station with a tiny population and high mortality rates. The Book of the New Sun (strangest series I’ve read) has the ‘alzabo,’ an animal which absorbs the memories and personalities of people it eats, and whose flesh can be consumed by other people to absorb them in turn. Stay tuned, because I look forward to exploring each of these worlds in more detail! The masked emperor from Seth Dickinson’s novels - generated by AI Back to Baru, briefly and with a few spoilers for the context of her journey (skip ahead for now if you’re thinking of reading those books!). Power is central to The Masquerade - a shocking surprise in a speculative fiction novel, I know. But Dickinson is going beyond all the armies, conjurations, and even thrones; with the struggle at the heart of his books focusing on ideas and secrets. A war in the shadows between idealists who would write their will and vision across the face of the world, just as soon as they can prove their theorems and/or blackmail all competitors into submission. The cryptarchs’ (rulers through secrets) fascination with the Cancrioth’s transhumanism reflects their own true goals: that by finding a perfect form of society and implementing it, they will achieve immortality. Now, you might notice that I’m stretching things here. Nowhere in the three currently published Masquerade novels is it suggested that either Itinerant or Hesychast (the main dueling philosopher cryptarchs) believes they will literally live on through their accomplishments. Yet those might as well be the stakes for which they are playing. And honestly, if either achieved the level of influence they are pursuing, what is the difference between literal consciousness and having millions of people thinking the exact way you do? These books are simply incredible, and I can’t wait to discuss them again. The intrigue at work here puts Wormtongue and Littlefinger to shame - there are a lot of people playing at the level of (book) Varys, if not even better. Consciousness in A Fire Upon the Deep One last mention of a novel that blew me away before quickly devolving into mediocrity. Vernor Vinge’s 1992 A Fire Upon the Deep imagines an incredible science fiction universe, then focuses in upon a story about two kids and their quest in an evil kingdom on a single planet. Yes, I’m still bitter. But that one planet is why I’m talking about the book, and frankly a significant part of why I wanted to do this series of posts. The narrative here is from the perspective of ‘Tines’, which look like packs of wolves. Packs of wolves. It's a Tine! Any resemblance to my prompt of ‘pack of wolves’ is pure coincidence. Pilgrim, the first we meet and whose perspective we share, initially includes four. He isn’t quite a hive mind, constant regardless of the fate of composite drones, but is instead a group mind. Each member of his pack contributes their memories and instincts to the whole, and their loss means those memories become foggy and those instincts dulled. Accepting a new wolf means facing real tension and potential changes to his personality. There is a limited distance at which one of his constituent wolves can travel before it is lost to him. Traveling through a crowded area means confusion and danger due to the number of individuals present, clouding Pilgrim’s composite will. A complex consciousness emerging from the workings of other beings. It’s just so fucking cool. It’s also more than a little reminiscent of Avrana Kern and her ants from last week, though Tines seem to have evolved more naturally. There are books that explore the idea of multiple human minds coming together to form a greater whole: Ninefox Gambit and This is How You Lose the Time War immediately spring to mind, and usually this is seen through technological means and a kind of internet. Certainly our internet has a ways to go before reaching that point. The group mind is a fascinating form of transhuman consciousness to consider. Whether a few people could form a human Tine or a civilization could bring to life the ideas of its founder like the cryptarchs dream; what that would look like and how it would function. Mentopolis is a lovely and hilarious look at what makes a Mind - art by Wren Williams Closing the Experiment I’ve covered a lot of speculative ground in these posts: minds rebuilt or merged with pure magic, uploaded into software and ants, stored in cancer cells, shared through ideology or emergent group minds. These were merely the most interesting and applicable examples from the books I’ve read. Black Mirror’s San Junipero, Black Museum and White Christmas all examine the ethical implications of uploading consciousness, and Be Right Back asks whether our behavioural patterns are enough to recreate our minds. If Tines and alternative forms of consciousness piqued your interest, I’d recommend Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Children of Time series and a ton of great short fiction from Lightspeed Magazine such as this one. My takeaway from these posts? Consciousness and embodiment/environment inevitably go both ways. So maybe our current forms aren’t so bad, given how much control we (generally) have over them. Easier to get some sleep and exercise now than try to program the evolution of ant colonies later, right? --- Speaking of our current fleshy forms, mine needs dinner. Thanks as always for reading, and please let me know if there’s other media you love that touches on similar themes! Until next week~

Last week I explored some of the ways human experiences might change when transposed into new forms fundamentally tied to our mental states, and ultimately concluded that the same is basically true of life in our current bodies and minds. Sanderson ends up being a step ahead yet again. Today I’m leaving ‘magic’ behind, though Sanderson’s depictions of human souls recreated by magic might make more logical sense than some of the alternate/theoretical science ideas ahead. To reiterate briefly, these posts are looking specifically at human experiences beyond the limits of human bodies in speculative fiction. The terms transhuman and posthuman both describe this to an extent, but I’ll stick to the former for consistency. Dr. Avrana Kern Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Children of Time series is beautiful, endlessly thought-provoking, and a treasure trove of explorations into the nature of complex life and consciousness. I highly recommend these books and will do my best not to spoil anything beyond the unique and complex journey of a single character: Dr. Avrana Kern. Avrana Kern beholding her world - generated with AI Dr. Kern is deeply jaded and egotistical, believing she is brilliant and will create a new form of sentient life, and that the rest of humanity are vacuous fools. Read the books to find out just how right and wrong she is… She uploads a copy of her consciousness to a computer system - already home to an artificial intelligence named Eliza - then falls into stasis for thousands of years. Uploaded Avrana and Eliza fight for a while, but eventually merge into a new being - a little like the Vessel and Shards I was discussing last week. Biological Avrana eventually slowly awakes, having lost her mind: the stasis technology was hardly expected to preserve her for centuries, let alone millennia. Yet her orders must be obeyed by her uploaded copy, due to a quirk of Eliza’s compliant programming. The body eventually dies without another upload, but the interactions and orders leave their impact on the simulated - and now sole - Avrana Kern. Avrana Kern as (literally only) depicted on a skateboard by choiceskate At this point in the story, the technology simulating Kern is utterly obsolete and is beginning to fail. But she managed to make friends - kind of - and those friends don’t want to lose her. Rather than try to fix or replicate her current home, they work with her to prepare a new one. Ants. Again, read the books for a little more context on that! But yes, ants; the power and determination of a colony harnessed in order to simulate a woman who still identifies as human. Functionally this is accomplished in a similar way to our own computers and electronics, just with signals passed chemically from drone to drone instead of electrons from atom to atom. Avrana Kern now grows and adapts biologically once again through the genetics of her component colony. Some of those changes are conscious, and some are reactive (again highly reminiscent of the magical transhumanism I discussed last week). Two versions of Kern in different situations and with distinct experiences may eventually occupy biologically distinct species. Oh yes, there are a lot of our good doctors running around: she becomes the default “Ship’s Computer” for a spacefaring civilization in the second and third novels. When a ship needs to split in two, she can even clone herself by rapidly overproducing her ants. Though still vain and difficult, she relishes the respect given to her experience and knowledge base. Simulated by Ants - art by skirophori Her story doesn’t even end there - the third book Children of Memory seeing a copy of her somehow downloaded into an utterly foreign computer system - but I’ll leave that to the books themselves. It’s truly remarkable to follow Avrana Kern’s journey of consciousness and existence, especially considering how easy it is to dislike her in the first novel. In the process of writing the second novel, author Adrian Tchaikovsky even tweeted about how frustrating the version of Avrana in his imagination was to work with. Suffice to say that Dr. Avrana Kern’s character(s) at the end of Children of Memory are quite different from where she started as a living and breathing human. Though I didn’t get around to mentioning it last week, a significant idea in transhumanism is the Ship of Theseus: the question of when new parts imply a new whole. Art of Avrana Kern by matrose Who or what is Avrana Kern? Is she the bones entombed in a malfunctioning satellite? The code running through its glitching systems? A colony of ants? One such colony, or all of them? I’d say that the ant-run Kerns are part of a new species whose forebears include ants, a program named Eliza, and a human who was the first Avrana Kern. Who to include in the descendants of this family tree… is a question for another time. --- Each of these ends up a lot longer than expected, so the next (or final?) part of this series will cover some even stranger examples of transhuman experiences! Have you been convinced to read these books yet? Do you know of any characters who have gone on similarly complex journeys through existence? Let me know!

Trying something new! A short playlist I made for this post: As you may be able to tell from this blog alone, speculative fiction is constantly exploring novel ideas about the world and our place in it. You probably won’t be surprised, then, at how many authors have surveyed issues of life beyond death and consciousness apart from our fragile human bodies. My goal with [most of] these posts is to connect my lived experiences with the engaging fiction I love. For this one, I just want to lay out the personal part here before returning to it at the end: I’m human. I often dislike the body I’m in, and am sometimes overtaken by existential dread. Now, transhumanism - or posthumanism. The science fiction concepts overlap with philosophical ones to such a degree that establishing a simple definition can be difficult. But what I’m talking about is explained fairly well in this line from Wikipedia: ‘a posthuman is a hypothetical future being "whose basic capacities so radically exceed [differ] those of present humans as to be no longer unambiguously human by our current standards."’ None of the examples I’ll talk about here are strictly ‘superior’ to our current idea of humanity, but simply explore different and fascinating potential forms of human consciousness. Transhumanism can take any number of different forms (AI Generated) Magical Transhumanism I’ve written before about my love for Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere novels and the way they explore characters’ struggles with trauma, but have barely scratched the surface of the gripping worldbuilding the books are built upon. An attempt at some brief context: The ‘gods’ of the Cosmere are called Shards; there are sixteen of them, and they were created by the ‘Shattering of Adonalsium’. Each Shard embodies one aspect, or Intent, of the being they were broken from (Adonalsium). Shards include Ruin, Preservation, Honour and Cultivation - each named for the fundamental principle that defines that Shard and its motivations. The Shards are the source of (most) magic in the Cosmere, and their Intents inform how their magic and its systems manifest. Cosmere stories are centered on characters struggling and growing in diverse situations and environments. (Granted, that’s a decent definition for storytelling in general, but it is the discernable focus of Sanderson’s works). These tales focus on living and breathing human characters, though there’s also a healthy mix of crab people, elemental faeries, ogres, changelings, zombies, and even dragons. It is in the background - the meta-narrative of the Cosmere where characters’ journeys are extended past their biological and narrative end dates - that transhuman experiences have so far been explored. ‘Friends’ of three centuries discussing moral philosophy - by Diego López Prolonged existence can be achieved through an ever-growing number of means in the Cosmere, but I’d only qualify two* as being essentially transhuman. The first is to ‘pick up’ or ‘ascend to’ a Shard and become its Vessel - merging one’s personality, perception and ability to act with the Shard’s divine Intent. That’s right, the Cosmere’s gods are (mostly) human too! The power they hold is functionally infinite, but its use is limited by a combination of their focus and the Shard’s Intent: Ruin must actively perceive a person in order to urge them toward destructive chaos, and it fundamentally cannot heal someone or work towards stability. The Vessel influences the Shard through the act of holding, channeling, and embodying it. The Shard influences the Vessel at the same time. Ruin’s Vessel Ati was specifically chosen in order to minimize the Shard’s destructive potential in the wider Cosmere, because Ati was a kind and generous individual; yet thousands of years entwined with Ruin’s desire for entropy warped him significantly. The same was true for his friend Leras, who took up Preservation. Need for order and prosperity meant that Leras could scarcely take meaningful action without years of planning and preparation. Leras and Ati by Blazemalefica I like to think of magic in the Cosmere as flowing water: Preservation trying to harm something would be akin to forcing water to flow directly against gravity. For it to grow a plant would be nearly as difficult given the amount of change involved - but for Cultivation that would be as easy as breathing. Each Shard is fixed in its state, and Vessels must learn to act creatively within their Intent. Could someone use Ruin to achieve only positive changes, leaning away from violence and insanity and toward constant improvement? Maybe, but it seems just as likely they would start to see a lot of things as needing quick and brutal improvement. A fascinating example unfolding in recent novels is the Shard Autonomy. The god of ‘working best alone’ almost seems to do the opposite, planting pieces of itself on various worlds with their own personalities and followings. This seems to be because the Vessel found and exploited a loophole: I need no one else, therefore versions of me should rule over everything. Autonomy’s Vessel Bavadin, by Maria Lia Malandrino For Everyone Else In terms of transhuman experiences, the Vessels definitely have it better than most cognitive shadows - people whose souls (personalities, memories, identities, etc.) are magically prevented from passing on in the Cosmere. Other than one case where the person keeps their body but loses their memory, cognitive shadows either exist formlessly or (eventually) inhabit a body constructed from magic. Cognitive shadows created by a Shard have more free will than that Shard’s Vessel, but rarely possess any innate abilities or protections. They are programs, written in the code of the Shard to emulate what was once a person. It’s hard to find a rule or trait common to every type. On Threnody where the Shards Ambition, Odium and Mercy clashed and a chunk of the former was left behind, they are malicious ghosts hunting all life. On Roshar, the same ten Heralds of Honour have spent millennia fighting the same hundreds of Fused created by Odium, and they are all exhausted and insane. It remains unclear exactly how prolonged time as a cognitive shadow changes a soul - there are certainly theories that both the Heralds and Fused have become caricatures of their former personalities over time, but suffice to say that Roshar has a lot going on. One world has a fascinating test case in the works: three men who knew each other in life and each attained immortality in a different way. One is a Vessel to not one, but two Shards. Another is a cognitive shadow who seems to have stitched himself into a body out of sheer motivation and force of will. The third never died, but thanks to some light non-consensual body modification is able to halt the aging process. At three and a half centuries each man already seems exhausted and set in his ways, and it will be fascinating to see how Sanderson develops them going forward. Alive, but known as Death throughout the Cosmere - by eyeronis We are shaped by our motivations, guiding principles, and conditions of life even as we try to shape and act through them. Taking action toward self-improvement makes the next step slightly more accessible; while giving into doubt or temptation increases the likelihood it will happen again. I think mental health (or survival of who you are) as a cognitive shadow involves mindfulness - remembering who you are and the beliefs that define you. One of my favourite morals in fiction is ‘Choose again’, which you can read more about here. Let me know your thoughts, or if there’s any great songs I should have in this playlist! And thanks for reading! Next time, technological and stranger versions of transhumanism.

The Murderbot Diaries is an ongoing series of science fiction novels and novellas written by Martha Wells starting in 2017. The books follow Murderbot (it/its), a piece of security technology (SecUnit) who hacked its own programming to free itself from corporate slavery. Murderbot as depicted on the official Russian cover of 'All Systems Red' Murderbot is part organic - created with cloned human tissue - and part non-organic. It can be easily mistaken for human when consciously blending in, but is also markedly different in both physicality and behaviour. Murderbot has fully synthetic lower legs and feet, a port in the back of its neck, and lacks any features that would suggest gender. Unless making an effort to emote, Murderbot's face remains utterly still or twitches with emotion - part of the reason it usually wears its armor and visor. Designed for tactics, combat prowess and adaptation, Murderbot is genuinely incredible to behold when it is on the job. Micro-drone surveillance, rapid threat assessment, instant communications and more mean that Murderbot often gets to play Sherlock Holmes before the shooting starts and it becomes the Terminator. More than anything though, Murderbot just wants to watch TV and keep its friends safe. Murderbot standing next to a Cargo Bot, by Jaime Jones for' Fugitive Telemetry' The irony of the series’ title is that despite everyone’s fears of a SecUnit with free will, Murderbot continually behaves more relatably human than its corporate creators and clients. Readers certainly agree: part of the series’ success hinges on how many of us relate to various aspects of Murderbot. The character gives real representation to people who are aromantic, asexual, gender-nonconforming and many brands of neurodivergent (Martha Wells has said that some aspects of Murderbot’s character are based on her own experience with being non-neurotypical). On my initial read of the series and reflecting on it since, I connect strongly with Murderbot's struggles to comprehend social cues around gender, relationships and so much more. I feel seen whenever Murderbot charmingly attempts to use the narratives and characters of its favourite show - The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon - to unravel the actions and intentions of the people around it. Unarmored Murderbot watching 'The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon', by Kate Coulas Despite its confusion, Murderbot is excellent at addressing people kindly and with the correct pronouns. It instead struggles with the anxiety that arises between those interactions, sometimes reaching conclusions that are harmful to its relationships and itself. Been there. These (mostly short) books feature a surprisingly rich, diverse and lovable cast of characters who want to see Murderbot thrive as a free individual just as much as it wants to keep them safe in turn. I won't spoil the narrative premise of the series, but it manages to explore some fascinating social dynamics through Murderbot's journey and struggles. Murderbot and ART, by Jaime Jones for 'Network Effect' Murderbot is unique in representing so many character traits, and doubly so for being surrounded by people and situations it struggles to understand. Similar characters - Data from Star Trek, Breq from Ancillary Justice, Voleta from The Books of Babel - exist, but their confidence and direct approaches make them more difficult to relate with. Reading The Murderbot Diaries supported me in understanding and accepting my gender and neurodivergence. When in recent weeks I began to seriously question whether I am aromantic as well, Murderbot proved a helpful comparison once again. The reflection looks a little cloudier in this case, but the similarities and distinctions will be useful in my continuing quest to understand myself in the context of the world around me. Murderbot art by Andis Reinbergs for the Latvian cover of 'All Systems Red' Consider giving this series a try, despite the potentially off-putting title. Murderbot is incredibly funny, action-filled, and heartfelt in the first book - All Systems Red - and offers so much more as the series progresses. Thanks for reading, now back to Sanctuary Moon for me.

A reminder about self-worth, for Valentine’s and any other day The Wrong Takeaway I’ve spent my life learning the wrong lesson from the books, TV, and other media I consumed. At best it was an important lesson that I gave too much of my attention, to the detriment of myself and the people around me. This insidious message, drilled into me from nearly the cradle? The great importance of friends, partners and generally being surrounded by people. Harry Potter, Friends, and Star Trek ceaselessly focus on the value of building and maintaining relationships. In Lord of the Rings, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and just about any of the TV serial dramas I used to watch with my parents, the group is essential; being alone is to be at the mercy of our chaotic and cruel world. I subconsciously saw this as a kind of golden tenet, and followed it in the misguided belief that my place in a social group was more important in the long run than my own personal development. Throw in some staunch moral values and this approach certainly seemed to carry Frodo, Harry, Phoebe Buffay, Jonathan Harker and so many others across the finish line without much character growth to speak of. Where are the stories dedicated to personal growth and achievement? A brief aside: what’s something that can - or used to - emotionally gut you? For me it was the image of no guests at a kid’s elaborately planned birthday party… and still is, given how high my gorge just rose while writing that. It feels like there’s a connection there: individual worth put out of reach by social estimation. Paul Atreides - rarely alone - by Anato Finnstark In My Experiences As with so many lessons I’m now re-evaluating, cracks in the logic have been appearing for a while - though they are hard to recognize in media res. This has most often been when playing or watching Dungeons & Dragons, and feeling conflicted about moments where individual characters put their goals and motivations ahead of the group’s. The very first D&D show I watched had such a moment within its first 25 episodes. A new and mysterious player character - a dark wizard named Banon -  tries to steal a priceless artifact the party needs (probably in order to save the world - it happens a lot, let’s face it). Between dice and a bit of role-playing, his betrayal is quickly uncovered and the group’s fighter Vincent demands an explanation. It isn’t forthcoming, so Vincent deals out swift and casual justice - saving the party’s quest and rendering Banon’s story unto the void. Vincent by Lukali and Banon by CPUCore I was already fascinated with the show and even more so with the game they were playing, but this moment knocked me off my feet. I had believed that individual motivations were the miscellaneous spices accentuating the party as a whole. Gimli’s adoration of Galadriel and Ron Weasley's protectiveness of his family, even Lucy Westenra’s competing suitors never truly interfered with the aims of the collective. But of course there are contrary examples once I think to look for them: Boromir’s duty to Gondor, Snape’s love of Lily, every ridiculous and selfish action of the Friends cast. In the decade since seeing Banon’s failed coup, I’ve seen some epic narrative twists pulled off by players and Dungeon Masters alike. The first season of Critical Role ended with a battle of epic proportions - 5 hours of screen time, plus at least 20 hours of preparation, and saw multiple series guests temporarily returning to the table. Amidst the bittersweet ending, this happens (spoilers). I don’t know how the sheer drama of the moment can ever be outdone, but I can hope! Individual Growth True to my difficulty with having learned this lesson, it was tough to pick out many speculative fiction books which highlight individual growth and acceptance over social bonding. [Technically there’s Ayn Rand, but I refuse to engage with her brand of far-right individualism]. Josiah Bancroft’s Books of Babel series follows small town school teacher Thomas Senlin as he searches for his missing wife Maria and blunders through an alien and chaotic environment. His existence to this point has been linear and sensical; his relationship with Maria placid and uninteresting as the town from which they embarked. The first six levels of Babel, drawn by author Josiah Bancroft Immediately upon arrival, Senlin has a kind of chemical reaction with Babel; his sensibilities and the Tower’s strangeness sparking unstoppable and irreversible change. Maria vanishes into the touristing crowd in an eye blink, and the suddenly unstable Senlin must adapt and learn or be devoured by the myriad desires constituting the Tower. His journey is harrowing and thrilling, heartwarming and soul-crushing. The four book series sees him crossing paths with a rich cast of characters on fascinating journeys of their own, spending time together before losing each other to the chaos of Babel. He learns hunger, pain, and need; in turn he develops cunning, determination, and the tremendous importance of action. Thomas Senlin and Edith Winters imprisoned - art by Tom Kidd Part of my love for this series comes from how it handles Maria’s reintroduction. All of Senlin’s development arises from complications in his quest to find Maria and return to the simplicity of their life together: it should be unachievable if his journey is to matter, right? But Maria changes too. Only slightly more worldly than her husband, Maria has been fighting against Babel’s current in her own way, disrupting it and being disrupted in kind. Maria is not a princess to be rescued in the Tower, nor is Senlin a chivalric Prince Charming: they are individuals struggling to survive, and once reunited must assess their relationship anew. Departing As with Senlin, Maria and the entire cast of The Books of Babel, I think we must be dedicated to ourselves before we can hope to be a help to others. Author Josiah Bancroft also demonstrates that self-worth is its own reward detached from romantic relationships, through many memorable characters. Upper Babel in moonlight by Tom Kidd I’m left searching my mind (and shelves) for other books that explore this idea. Ann Leckie’s and A.K. Larwood’s novels are perhaps the most promising, yet I wonder if they really fit. It’s certainly amusing to write this while listening to Gone Girl, wherein two people are incredibly dysfunctional whether together or apart. I also just started My Grandmother Sends Her Regards and Apologizes by Fredrik Backman, which may have some similarities. I wrote about Murderbot last week, which could also work in its way. How did you learn this lesson? Are there any books on it that you think I should read? Thanks for reading! Until next week~

How Speculative Fiction has helped me navigate social anxiety. “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown” - A Racist How many hours of my ‘carefree’ teenage years did I spend isolated in the thorny clutches of anxiety and depression? Was it more than most? Merely different in form, a climbing and crashing wave instead of staccato thunderclaps? My peers always seemed so blissfully open to new people, places, and experiences; to the point that I struggle to envision what role anxiety actually played for some of them. They could walk unprepared into the unknown with confidence. On the rare occasions I was dragged kicking and screaming into that void, it was only after endless stomach-churning procrastination and deliberation. Serapio (by @zei-ord-art) from Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse My approach to books and movies stands in sharp contrast to that fear of the unknown: when I’m already committed to enjoying a piece of media, I avoid trailers and back-of-book blurbs like the plague. “But… How do you know you will like it?” You wisely ask. Well, often I’m relying on recommendations and ratings from people I trust - hopefully you can trust me in turn! Other times, I find myself reading hot garbage that the uncritical internet thought was pretty: *cough cough* The Fourth Wing, Before the Coffee gets Cold, *cough cough*. Sometimes you just have to give up on a book. Chinese cover for The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins I treasure the experience of diving headlong into the imaginations of brilliant speculative fiction creators. Taking a similar blind plunge into a non-fiction work will snap your neck: no matter how beautiful the structure, it will lack the room to be fully immersive. The same is true of most fiction. Comedy, romance or thriller, convention dictates that 99.9% of the real world’s logic will apply. Isn’t the appeal of those works so often that 0.1%? The absurdist moment in comedy, the perfect meet-cute in romance, the ingenious murderer in mystery, the ever-rising tension which defines a thriller. We love when stories are elevated with a hint of the surreal. For me, that spark of interest is nearly impossible to kindle through endless exposition. There are countless Young Adult fantasy books explaining every unique aspect of their world early, so that the reader can focus on mind-numbing love triangle #643,195. They do nothing for me, because they expect nothing of me. The Lobster, Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos My understanding of speculative fiction has recently expanded to include absurdist (often dark) comedy films and TV. The Lobster (2015), What We Do In The Shadows (2014), and Preacher (2016-2019) are a few examples of media that will be near incomprehensible to an audience used to being spoon-fed soap operas and procedural mysteries. You have to work to navigate The Lobster, inventing theories and discarding them with each new surreal element. In The Library at Mount Char, trying to take things at face value will leave you irretrievably lost: yes Carolyn is an American librarian in her late twenties, no none of that helpfully encompasses her. In my preliminary book recommendations post, I chose Piranesi to exemplify these types of stories because it forces you to abandon your preconceptions. There aren’t any familiar context clues, so sit back and enjoy the ride. Art for Susannah Clark’s Piranesi by Seth T. Hahne Surreal speculative fiction stories have taught me to enjoy the process of learning and familiarizing myself with the unknown. Real life situations are chaotic, especially when socialization is involved. You can’t approach a dinner event as a linear experience, you have to go with the flow. Great speculative fiction will provide clues and context that aren’t immediately helpful, but have fascinating implications all the same. Mark Lawrence’s Red Sister is about a school of assassin-nuns in a fantasy world with hereditary magic, yet casually hints early on that humans traveled through the void in order to reach these ‘shores’. It is foreshadowing, but it also feels like a deep and ominous piece of worldbuilding in the moment. In sharp contrast are some moments in the Alex Stern novels by Leigh Bardugo. I love these books, but the bestselling YA author often can’t have her characters stumble across a new idea just in time for it to be plot relevant. ‘Sisters of Sweet Mercy’ by banishedshadow These stories have helped me embrace the chaos of the new and unfamiliar. It’s impossible to fully grasp any real world situation, but you can work with the context clues you find to build a strong understanding. The same is true of Mount Char, The Lobster, and so many other immersive and surreal stories. Let me know if any of this resonates! Thanks for reading, and check back soon for more.

Heavy Spoilers for Oathbringer, third book of The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson. Tread lightly if you’re currently reading that series, otherwise maybe this post will persuade you to give it a try! What does it mean to be a good person? Why does progress so often feel torturous? Can there be such a thing as forgiveness in today’s world? Brandon Sanderson (a fantasy author I love) is known for his skill and speed at writing, his odd ability to write great queer subtext - if only unintentionally - and the ‘Sanderson Avalanche’: his books take time to build momentum before culminating in astonishing fashion, often with different narrative arcs coming together for the first time. There are many great examples - The Way of Kings is perhaps the most emotional for me - but the ending of Oathbringer stands in a league of its own for its stakes and the lessons that can be taken away from it. Dalinar amidst the Sanderson Avalanche, by Rixt Heerschop I won’t try to do justice to Dalinar’s story in Oathbringer (a 454,440 word-long book, and third of a planned 10 book series), but hopefully this will help: Dalinar is a deeply troubled man who has spent the novel recovering memories of his past as a violent drunk, a failed father, and a literal war criminal. There was some outside influence, enabling and pushing him to drown out his pain with vice and violence, but the decisions were his own. He is also - wait for it - the de facto leader of the protagonists in the current day, and has spent years pushing for Honour and empathy in his corrupt, war-centered society. The climax of Oathbringer sees the heroes facing overwhelming odds on multiple fronts. The enemy - led by a ‘god’ named Odium - is utterly prepared for them, and Dalinar is to be the coup de grace. Odium has planned to return all of Dalinar’s shameful, disturbing memories to him at once: breaking him utterly before offering to take on Dalinar’s pain in exchange for numb servitude. Suffice to say, that would have been the game; for the heroes, their families, their cities, countries, and world. Sanderson’s Cosmere novels are interconnected, meaning that the beloved worlds of Elantris and Mistborn could also have to eventually contend with a victorious Odium and his Dalinar-led armies. Dalinar summoning his shardblade - by Randy Vargas But as I mentioned earlier, Dalinar was gradually recovering his memories and had been allowed to process and grow (some gods are a little subtler than the one defined by passion and hate). “I will take responsibility for what I have done", Dalinar whispered. "If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man.” How many times have we all been there? It is fucking tough to accept responsibility for even small things, compared to the ease of escaping our pain. “A journey will have pain and failure. It is not only the steps forward that we must accept. It is the stumbles. The trials. The knowledge that we will fail. That we will hurt those around us. But if we stop, if we accept the person we are when we fail, the journey ends. That failure becomes our destination.” The Stormlight Archive is about a lot of deeply broken people. It’s meaningful that part of their first step to redemption are the words: ‘’Journey before Destination.’ The path to our goals will always be more meaningful than the end result - and exponentially so if we resign ourselves to failure. “Sometimes a hypocrite is nothing more than a man in the process of changing.” Another bombshell in our ‘one-strike-and-out’ culture. Oathbringer depicts a literal war criminal trying his best to atone for his past actions, and saving the universe on the back of his moral convictions. Granted, true remorse can be hard to come by in our world - and most of our war criminals never got a lick of punishment. Dalinar on the edge, by Tara Spruit “But merely being tradition does not make something worthy, Kadash. We can’t just assume that because something is old it is right.” This quote comes from earlier in the novel than the rest, but I think it fits in its own way. Having fostered change and growth within himself, Dalinar spends the first four books of the series encouraging the same in the people and systems around him. Another simple yet necessary lesson for our world, too. “The most important step a man can take. It's not the first one, is it? It's the next one.” One of my favourite morals from all the fiction I’ve read. Relevant to my struggles with both anxiety and ADHD and reminiscent of another favourite quote of mine, it feels like a fundamentally helpful way to approach life. “The most important words a man can say are, ‘I will do better.’” Together, these quotes present a thesis statement for Dalinar’s character and even The Stormlight Archive up to this point. In Oathbringer, this was enough to win the day in truly awesome fashion. In the upcoming fifth book Wind and Truth, I imagine these moral principles will prove ineffective when faced with overwhelming societal and cosmic corruption. Official artwork by Petar Penev of Dalinar in Stormlight 5: Wind and Truth After all, you and I focusing on being better people won’t change the state of the world. But maybe it’s a step in the right direction; and the next step is the most important one we can take.

“When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die.” It’s nice to imagine a world where staying out of politics is a safe and legitimate option. According to George R.R. Martin after all, maybe it is the only safe move. A Song of Ice and Fire is a massive narrative spanning a wide and (overly) complex world, but it started on relatively comprehensible grounds. Protagonist Eddard Stark is publicly asked to serve as right hand to his old friend and king, and accepts the role despite great feelings of discomfort. Tensions rise as Eddard travels south and faces repeated tests of his moral character. His fears about Robert’s incompetency and Cersei’s manipulations fall far short of the real situation. He makes a valiant attempt to unravel the conspiracy of his predecessor’s death, but is too heavy-handed and deliberate to save his friend’s life. Confronted with the insidious corruption of a monarchy he had helped instate, Eddard Stark chose to stand up for his ideals of justice and morality. His head ultimately rolled not by any clever maneuvering by Cersei - his apparent foe and the center of corruption in the capital - but because a third party wanted easier profits. Petyr Baelish, also known as Littlefinger, is the true villain of A Game of Thrones. He harbors a deep and unrequited love for Eddard’s wife Catelyn, and takes pleasure in fooling the man as he felt was done to him. He is also the foremost representation of capitalism in the novel, and even ‘defeats’ Eddard by simply being the employer of the City Watch. Letting Cersei be deposed would see a far stricter monarch take the throne (Robert’s brother Stannis famously cannot and will not bend an inch on his moral views); whereas supporting her grants Littlefinger new realms of profits to be pursued. Littlefinger's path to power involves just a few betrayals. So, amidst lavish descriptions of food and lots of child cruelty, A Game of Thrones sees a corrupt and incompetent government being upheld by sheer greed against all moral decency. Does that sound familiar? It is fucking infuriating to read Trump’s name in political headlines again. His vision - if we’re going to utterly demean that word - for America and the world is exactly the same as Littlefinger’s. War, famine, discrimination, and endless abuse are more than welcome if it lines his pockets and those of his friends. The archetype isn’t particularly new or unique. Dune offers another blatantly evil parallel in Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, advancing his family’s profits and social standing on the back of genocide, slavery and the ecological destruction of multiple planets. The Lord of the Rings sees Saruman turn his back on all he has ever known for power offered by the blazing engines of industrialization. Trump, Littlefinger, Harkonnen, Saruman, and a hundred others share a common perspective. The world is theirs to possess and abuse, loyalty and empathy are weaknesses to be exploited, and the will of the people is to be either ignored or harnessed as the situation permits. All else fails, create your own followers. In each of these fictional cases, resistance finally comes in the form of a charismatic figure for the people to rally behind. Religious figures inspire zealotry against both the Harkonnens and Cersei’s useless rule; Gandalf and the Hobbits take their turns deposing Saruman. Yet in each of these cases, the populace was fairly united against their tyrants. Littlefinger’s purchased loyalties aside, he has no relationship with the people; Harkonnen and Saruman also rely purely on their power over others. Their authority is built on fear alone. This just isn’t true of Trump, whose zealous supporters happily put the man before any and all self-interest. In this way he echoes a more generic kind of villain, such as that seen in Tywin Lannister and Roose Bolton in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire. Each inspires loyalty through fearsome reputation and a history of accomplishment. If their subordinates ever start questioning the morality of their actions, they can lean on the idea that they are just following the orders of 'Great Men' (certainly the topic of a future blog post). And yes there is another real-world, 20th-century comparison one could make here - consider it implied. A common refrain these days is that we have no hope of escaping our corrupt hyper-capitalist society without social upheaval on the scope of the French Revolution, and these fictional examples would appear to agree. Charismatic figures and justice-seekers hoping to tear Trump down have come and gone. Yet the clown seems to grow stronger with every criticism thrown at him. Does society need a hard reset? Probably. But the books I’ve discussed today offer very different glimpses of what is possible. The Throne Room of Muad'dib - built after purging corruption. Robb Stark’s attempt to avenge his father goes awry the moment he touches the political games of his opponents. Betrayed at his own wedding, he and his people are massacred by opponents he had been actively defeating in battle. This feels disturbingly accurate to the experience of watching dozens and hundreds of people trying to knock Trump down via the media and by following the codes of law he is happy to ignore. As yet unwritten in A Song of Ice and Fire but portrayed on TV is Daenerys’ successful war against the power of House Lannister at the end of the series. She refuses to play by their rules - avoiding Robb’s fate - yet the endless violence of her campaign sees her become a brutal villain in her own right. By the time she reaches her throne, she is queen of little more than ashes. Dune’s ending is a little more hopeful, but requires that its protagonist become the center of a fervent crusade that will span thousands of worlds. Like with Daenerys, a corrupt and failing system is replaced by authoritarian brutality. At least Lord of the Rings offers potential solace, though it is hard to imagine no issues ever arise for Aragorn or Sam’s descendants in Middle-Earth. So, the take-away: Revolution is possible, for a united and educated people willing to give their all to depose corrupt systems. They must choose their battles wisely and maintain their morality if they hope to forge anything better than what has come before. Frodo good, Frey bad, Fedaykin… if the cause is worthy.

Unconscious biases are an insidious underlayer of our society, subtly influencing our perceptions and interactions. Societal views on race, gender, and sexual orientation from a century ago still make their mark on personal and financial decisions made globally every day. Speculative fiction can potentially offer a completely clean slate, since imagined worlds have their own unique histories and societal factors leading to certain biases and imbalances. This potential for fresh perspectives can come at the expense of erasing real ones. C.L. Clark's The Unbroken explores the tension and abuse inherent to imperial and colonial structures, with the powerful France-inspired Balladaire occupying the North African-inspired colony of Qazāl. The Unbroken examines intersections of race, upbringing, and cultural belonging through deuteragonist Touraine, and a loss of innocence for her counterpart Luca as she sees the tangible results of her empire. Both women face internal and external conflicts while cautiously exploring a mutual attraction. On the other hand, the novel depicts a world free of discrimination against women and homosexuality. Touraine is looked down upon by fellow soldiers of Balladaire for her skin colour and southern origins, but is accepted as a woman and a lesbian. This presentation changes the impact of some ideas and interactions in the world. A major antagonist in the novel is Rogan, a male Captain of Balladaire and abuser who is quick to punish any mistake on the part of Touraine’s colonial regiment (a group of children violently taken from colonies to be raised as soldiers in Balladaire). Touraine depicted on the cover (by Tommy Arnold) of CL Clark's novel. My experiences and understanding of the intersecting biases (against race, gender, sexual orientation, etc.) in our world can’t help but colour my reading of Touraine’s interactions with Rogan and other characters. Exacerbating this tension is how Rogan repeatedly threatens Touraine and her female soldiers with sexual assault. The Unbroken’s setting suggests that Rogan is merely hateful and eager to abuse his authority, yet these threats feel deeply and uniquely gendered. Another major villain in the text is General Cantic of Balladaire, admired by Touraine until it is revealed her glorious military history involved massacres and genocides. Cantic is in an even greater position to abuse her subordinates, yet not even a hint of such behaviour arises. In this book where gender seems to be a non-issue, we nonetheless see sexual violence only perpetrated and threatened by (colonizing) men against (colonized) women. There are potential explanations: our narrow perspective into this world, residual gender conflict from a history we don’t learn about, or perhaps Clark didn’t intend to erase gender bias in the way I’m reading her text - though others certainly share my interpretation. Another point of tension arises from different gender identities which arise outside of Balladaire - yet which are instantly recognized by Touraine in her interactions with these characters and her ability to naturally use their preferred pronouns. This feels like it should be an issue of colonialism: it certainly is in Ancillary Justice, A Memory Called Empire, The Traitor Baru Cormorant, Phoenix Extravagant, Amberlough, and any other book where genderqueer characters are facing a society where their identities are not accepted. Here it comes off merely as a curiosity to the Balladairans, and that creates a strangely disparate experience for me as a reader. Ultimately, I think CL Clark wanted to tell a certain story and explore some aspects of colonialism in depth while setting others aside. That is an absolutely valid goal in my mind: speculative fiction should allow us to dissect real world issues in new, imaginative contexts. The Unbroken’s problem is that it can’t quite separate itself from gender issues, and therefore confuses its premise. It wouldn’t be a stretch to have non-binary gender identities in Balladaire and sidestep their thematic tension with colonialism. Cantic could have also been an abuser, somewhat balancing the gender and sexual violence in the book. A cynical part of me wonders if Rogan wasn’t hateful enough of a villain without this aspect, but ideally the idea of sexual violence could be removed entirely in order to better align with Clark’s vision. There is far more to be said about this book, and I have yet to get my hands on its sequel. My review outlines how Luca and Touraine’s relationship felt forced to me, alongside other observations about its storytelling and worldbuilding. I admire Clark’s depiction of a disabled character in Luca, and she is an interesting mirror to the character of Glokta in The Blade Itself. It is difficult to escape unconscious biases, even when presented with what should be tabula rasa. It is an idea I’d like to return to, through the perspective of another book. Are there any media you’ve consumed that have left you with a similar feeling of dissonance? Thanks for reading!

Authorial asides can offer dedicated readers an incredible experience - but might lose the rest. Introduction: Is this meta? Pop culture has a peculiar fascination with ‘meta’ references and punchlines. Deadpool (2016) is perhaps the most cited example from recent years, with the eponymous character’s frequent snarky asides to the audience. Dan Harmon’s Community (2009-2015) instead played heavily with tropes and clichés, and was also heavily praised for its ‘meta’ commentary. Fans of Arrested Development (2003-2019) argue that the show becomes exponentially funnier as you become more familiar with the characters and their world, thanks to a deep well of metatextual references to explore in every episode. The question of whether most consumers of these media could describe what they enjoy in these conventions is one I’d love to talk about another time (I think it will involve exploring a couple potential definitions of comedy, so keep your laughing pants handy). Today, I’m interested in the practice of including fictional footnotes in speculative fiction novels. Some specific novels include A Choir of Lies by Alexandra Rowland, Babel by R.F. Kuang, Mort (and many other Discworld novels) by Terry Pratchett, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susannah Clarke, and the sublime House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. Art of House of Leaves by Yamiyo-no-Kage Fantastic Footnotes That phrase could easily sound like juxtaposition. What could be enjoyable - let alone magical - about a style of citation and academic notation? As anyone who has written a college essay will tell you, properly formatting your references can be as stressful as any other part of the process. The difference quickly becomes apparent when you read a text with citations, hyperlinks, or any other reference style. We’ve all disappeared down a Wikipedia rabbit hole or lost hours on tvtropes.org, following tangents which arise from a single salient detail. Whether digressing on a bit of information that couldn’t quite fit into the body of a text or adding context to a citation, footnotes can be genuinely fascinating in the non-fiction world. A great example are CGPGrey’s videos about the origins of the name Tiffany. A few fiction authors have been inspired to include narrative footnotes in their own works. Rather than citing research on behalf of the author, these notes add to the setting, tone and/or narrative of the novel. Their Function in the Text Footnotes have been employed for a variety of reasons in speculative fiction. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell perhaps comes closest to using them purely for citation, though Susannah Clarke also adds asides and bits of lore on occasion. Babel adds context to Kuang’s narrative in the alternate history she has imagined. Mort by Terry Pratchett is similar, humorously expounding on small but fascinating elements of Discworld. A Choir of Lies has one author responding to the work of another through footnotes. Though a break from tradition, Rowland uses this motif to entwine her character’s narratives and perspectives in unique and creative ways. House of Leaves does all of the above and more. This book is an absolute achievement in expanding what a ‘novel’ is capable of; I’d highly recommend you give it a read before hearing any more about it from me. But if that didn’t convince you, I’ll explain a little. Light Context / Spoilers for House of Leaves/ Similar to A Choir of Lies, Danielewski’s House of Leaves has one author (Johnny Truant) picking up the work of another (Zampanò) and using footnotes to comment on and respond to the text. In this case he is also trying to finish the book (reminiscent of Yellowface by Babel author R.F. Kuang), and therefore also documents his reasoning for changing and adding textual details. The kicker is that Zampanò’s unfinished work is already an authoritative analysis and commentary on a mysterious film. House of Leaves therefore includes three levels of metatextuality even before unfolding before the eyes of the reader. Johnny’s footnotes try to interpret Zampanò’s own analysis of a thing that defies logic, even as we see him continuing to navigate his own confused life. But that’s all I can say without robbing you of the opportunity to experience this strange masterpiece for yourself. One day when I re-read it, I’ll certainly do a deep dive into everything it offers. Make sure you’re ready to join me! /End of House of Leaves Discussion AI interpretation of 'Lost in Footnotes' Endnote I took a very generalized look at footnotes in fantasy in this blog, because I think they are much better enjoyed first-hand than explained in detail. Footnotes feel like a perfect fit for me as someone (with ADHD) who craves additional context and details if I am to understand something - and tend to assume others do as well, meaning I will frequently add small asides when speaking or writing. Authors like Terry Pratchett can use footnotes to deliver joking asides that would otherwise interfere with the momentum of their narrative. R.F. Kuang can add alternate history context to satiate nitpickers and super-fans alike. Alexandra Rowland and Mark Z. Danielewski can push the boundaries of what kinds of stories novels are able to tell. All of these asides can be fascinating to read for their own merits. As a reader, I love the extra context and details footnotes can afford. They can be misused, however. It can be jarring to repeatedly leave your place in the text, read a footnote, then return to your place and resume the narrative as though there was no interruption. When momentum is high I have found myself missing them altogether. It can be genuinely uncomfortable to try and follow two (or more) narratives and perspectives simultaneously. That said, I greatly look forward to seeing where this trend is headed. Will Babel mean the style is included in more pseudo-academic stories? Or will another Danielewski come along to weave together narratives and times? I can’t wait to find out! Thanks for reading! Are there any fictional footnotes books I missed that you would recommend?

"Don't give up!" "Persistence is key!" "Patience is a virtue!" "Stick with it!" "Hang in there!" It's good, snappy advice to get through an unpleasant task or situation. It's not practically helpful though, is it? Once, these words were likely spoken with genuine feeling and consideration. Capitalism feasts ravenously on our honesty and empathy, then gaslights us by regurgitating these hollow expressions. Ability, safety, and willingness are gently shoved aside by an imperative to finish what you started. [Note: This article is about reading books, and maybe consuming other forms of entertainment. For other situations, consider talking to someone or otherwise finding external help!] The AI really struggled with 'person throwing book'. Learning to live and work with my ADHD has taught me a lot about motivation and executive function. When someone (especially with ADHD) is passionate about a task, their brain supplies more energy for them to successfully complete it. When working on dull tasks, the lack of energy manifests in feelings of being stuck, lost, and frustrated. Yet our society is obsessed with the idea that finishing a task has innate value; even suffering through purchased experiences just to "get your money's worth". That doesn't have to apply when you're not enjoying a book. I've written before about how to spend less money on reading, and mitigating risk is a significant benefit of those practices! A novel borrowed from the library is going back there whether it steals your heart or bores you to tears. A rotten $5 thrift hurts a little more, but it's still preferable to buying new. When you do spent big on a dud, try your best to get a return. The fact is that it's not your fault if a book isn't working for you. I loved Susannah Clarke's Piranesi so much that I bought her earlier Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell without a second thought. I only learned when it arrived that it was over 1,000 pages. It took me at least six months to finally crack it open and realize that it would offer almost nothing of the wonder Piranesi inspired in me; instead presenting a frustratingly dull and long-winded Victorian drama. I pushed myself through a hundred pages, enjoying bits here and there but bored senseless by most of it. I then skimmed ahead to see if anything enjoyable was on the horizon, did the same with the book's Wikipedia summary, and finally set it on my shelf to collect dust. Other books have met similar fates. Titus Groan is an intriguingly unique 'weird gothic' text whose narrative far outstripped my interest in its setting. The Vorrh's 'weird horror' elements had me hooked immediately, but devolved into a revolting musing on race and sex. Ariadne and The Fairy Bargains of Prospect Hill offer mediocre prose and little novelty to familiar stories. At this point, I get antsy as soon as I realize something is Young Adult, New Adult, or Military Science Fiction - simply for the sheer number of bad experiences I've had with those genres: Fourth Wing, The Forever War, and Expeditionary Force to name just a few. (Add me on Goodreads to find those reviews!) Art by Sandara of Brutus and Bernard from 'Furies of Calderon' I'll add a brief caveat: there are a few books that I'm glad I stuck with, despite months of difficulty in finishing them. I entered Furies of Calderon as a huge fan of the author's other books, excited by the premise of 'ancient Rome with Pokémon'. The first portion of the book dragged for me, and I might not have made it if not for both my confidence in the author and the fact that it was late 2020 and I was stuck inside anyway. Furies' ending was great though, and I had finished the entire incredible series within 18 months. Another example I'll give is Mark Lawrence's Red Sister, which swept me off my feet with its dark and mysterious prose. I was enamored, and so felt deeply betrayed by a long scene depicting animal cruelty early in the novel. I threw the book across the room, spent hours feverishly angry about the lack of trigger warnings in books, cried a bit, and so on. My online searches told me that this was the lowest Lawrence's books had ever gone, so eventually I decided to pick the book up again with extreme skepticism. And I'm glad I did. I've now read thirteen deeply imaginative and enthralling books by Lawrence, the worlds of which are connected in small but tantalizing ways. I've come to learn and respect most of his approach to grimdark fantasy and how it augments his storytelling. But I still hate how far that scene, plus another in the author's Broken Empire trilogy, went; both take 'kicking the dog' to an extreme to build up secondary villains who were already fairly vile. Finally, Crosshairs by Catherine Hernandez. I listened to an hour of this audiobook, then had to delete it from my phone. The book wasn't awful, boring or problematic; the narrator's voice wasn't causing me a migraine. It was too goddamn real, depicting a lovable trans and queer community facing awful harassment and violence. I gave it 5 stars and I hope to return to it one day, but I just couldn't finish it. It remains your decision whether to trudge through a slow book in hopes of finding a hidden gem. Try setting a book aside temporarily and seeing whether any part of you longs to return to it! If not, that's okay: enjoy a different book and let it fade from your mind. I can even offer some recommendations! Are there any books that you wished you had put down, or that you're glad you stuck through? Let me know in the comments! Thanks for reading <3