It Doesn't Have To Be Right…

… it just has to sound plausible


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A Fire Born of Exile, Aliette de Bodard.

Or, de Bodard does Dantès. Not that A Fire Born of Exile (2023, France) is the first science fiction novel to be inspired by The Count of Monte Cristo (1846, France). Gwyneth Jones’s excellent space opera, Spirit (2008, UK), also borrowed the plot from Dumas’s novel.

In A Fire Born of Exile, a naive scholar was tricked into expressing sympathy with the rebels during the Ten Thousand Flags Uprising and promptly executed by being thrown out of an airlock. But against all odds she survived. Ten years later, using the name Quỳnh, the Alchemist of Streams and Hills, she arrives at the Scattered Pearls Belt to exact her revenge. The official who sentenced her to death is now prefect of the Belt, and Quỳnh’s lover of the time, who did nothing to save her, is now a general.

Minh is the daughter of the prefect and completely under the thumb of her overbearing mother. She is being groomed to become a scholar and follow in her mother’s footsteps, but she doesn’t really want to do that. In the panic following an incident at the Tiger Games, bandits try to kidnap Minh but she is saved by Quỳnh. The two become tentative friends.

Hoà is a technologist, low caste, who bumps into Quỳnh at her dead sister’s shrine, and it turns out Quỳnh knew her. The two are immediately attracted to each other. Hoà has been contracted by Minh and her friends to fix the mindship Flowers at the Gates of the Lords (or rather, Hoà’s sister has, but she’s ill so Hoà, who has no skill in mindship repair, has to do it instead – with help from Quỳnh). Flowers at the Gates is actually Minh’s Great Aunt and the head of the family lineage, meaning she has control of all the family funds. But she was badly damaged during the Ten Thousand Flags Uprising.

Quỳnh easily unseats the general by revealing an ex-lover who was a serial killer known to, and ignored by, the authorities. The prefect is a much harder target. Quỳnh has evidence of punishments that were over and above what the law decreed, such as execution instead of exile, including her own execution, but that’s not enough. She tries to manipulate Minh into declaring unfilial piety, but Minh is too browbeaten. There’s Flowers at the Gates too, of course, who is head of the family, but will she be fixed in time?

Quỳnh underestimates the prefect’s power, but the prefect in turn underestimates Flowers’, er, power. It comes to a head when an Imperial Censor visits to make the prefect the head of the lineage.

Dantès had it much easier than Quỳnh, and not just because the prefect comes across more like Malificent than Danglars. There’s plenty more going on in A Fire Born of Exile, and it’s all built up from the relationships between the various characters. As in the other Xuya novels and stories, there’s lots of food and drink, and lots of detailed descriptions of heavily-decorated clothing – this is a lush and lushly-described universe. I liked the novel preceding this one, The Red Scholar’s Wake (2022, France), a great deal, but I liked this one more. I’m frankly surprised A Fire Born of Exile didn’t make any award shortlists in 2024. Recommended.


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Navigational Entanglements, Aliette de Bodard

After a number of unsatisfying, and occasionally offensive, old science fiction novels, it’s time for something new. Navigational Entanglements (2024, France) is a short novel, probably closer to a novella (and has been nominated as such in this year’s Hugo Awards), set in de Bodard’s Xuya universe.

At least, I think it’s set in that universe. It’s certainly set in a space opera universe which is culturally Vietnamese, much like in The Red Scholar’s Wake (2022, France; recommended). Việt Nhi is a navigator in the Rooster Clan, one of a handful of clans responsible for guiding ships through the Hollows (some sort of hyperspace, I think), and protecting them during their journeys from tanglers (some sort of squid-like space creatures which live in hyperspace and can kill people by touching them, I think). A navigator from a rival clan crashes a ship and a tangler is let loose in the real universe. A team of four junior navigators, each of them to some extent considered a loser, is put together to catch the tangler. They’re expected to fail.

It’s all a political plot to destroy the influence of one of the clans, the Dog clan, which acts as the liaison between the other clans and the Imperial authorities. But the plot, so to speak, is more or less immaterial. The four juniors are very different characters, each one flawed; and it’s their dynamics, mediated by the protagonist, Nhi, which drives the story. Plus her attraction to one of the other juniors, Hạc Cúc of the Snake clan.

It’s all good stuff – although I do find myself a little puzzled by some of the background. I’m sure I’ve seen the Hollows mentioned in other stories set in the Xuya universe, but the concept of navigator, navigator clans and tanglers was new to me. Perhaps I missed something somewhere, but it felt like a retcon.

Having said that… on the one hand, no universe is set in stone and authors are of course free to chop and change as they wish – cf John Varley’s Steel Beach (1992, USA) for a good example. On the other, there’s something slightly less immersive about a universe that changes underneath you – and one thing the Xuya stories are very good at is immersion.

I do like these stories. The world-building is excellent, the mix of politics and (ironically) heightened emotions is effective, the level of detail in the prose is impressive, and they hit that space opera spot without being the usual hateful hyper-capitalist slave-owning oligarchic space opera universe so beloved of US science fiction writers. 

Worth a read; even better, vote for it at the Hugos.