A Memory Called Empire
by Arkady Martine
2019
A Memory Called Empire is a space opera about the ambassador of an independent space station getting deeply involved in local politics of the interstellar empire that threatens to annex her home. It has excellent worldbuilding, political and psychological realism, competent characters who're actually good at their jobs, and it kind of answers the question, what if a Trill ambassador from Star Trek got posted to the Centauri Empire from Babylon 5 during a major crisis?
The ambassador, Mahit, hails from Lsel Station, just beyond the Teixcalaanli empire. Both stationers and Teixcalaanlitzim (citizens of Teixcalaan) are human, but Mahit, who serves as our viewpoint character in close third-person, seems more similar to modern audience members than the stranger, more alien-seeming imperials. She also looks like me! "A tall narrow person in a barbarian's foreign-cut trousers and coat, her reddish-brown hair cropped low-grav short, her forehead high and bare."
Mahit grew up learning Teixcalaanli as a second language and loving the empire's poetic epics. She's drafted to become Lsel's new ambassador very suddenly, when the previous one dies unexpectedly. Before she leaves, she's given something that all adult stationers receive at the start of their career - an 'imago machine' that attaches to their brain, and contains the recorded memories and personality of their predecessor. Like the Trill! Or like having the voice of your mentor in your head. In Mahit's case, the most recent recording of previous ambassador Yskander is 15 years old, so she has no idea how he died or what the current situation on Teixcalaan is. (The same word refers to their home planet, their capital city that covers the planet, and the empire itself.)
Once she arrives, Mahit views Yskander's body, which causes the saved personality to experience something between a psychotic break and a Blue Screen of Death - leaving Mahit feeling even more lost and isolated. This is just the start of the busiest and worst week of her life. The entire 450 page novel takes place over just 6 or 7 days, during which Mahit nearly dies several times, and the city goes from relative calm to rioting in the streets. While Mahit tries to figure out what Yskander was doing before, and someone assassinated him for it, she also realizes that she's been placed near the center of the crisis that threatens the stability of Teixcalaan.
Mahit's liaison, and maybe friend, is Three Seagrass, a very clever member of the Information Ministry. She seems to like Mahit, and to help her, more than she probably should; in turn, Mahit trusts her more than she thinks she should too. All the Teixcalaanlitzim have names like that - a number and a noun. Three Seagrass's friend Twelve Azelea helps the two women too much also.
One of the big pleasures of this book is just taking in the complexity of life on Teixcalaan. Martine didn't create a whole language like Tolkein, but she shows us some of it, and through Mahit, describes it and gives linguistic insights. We see some examples to the ubiquitous poetry that all their writing and oration takes place in. We get glimpses of their fashion, their food, their manners. They have 6 directions instead of 4. Flowers are omnipresent. Teixcalaanlitzim keep their faces still and emote only with their eyes. Mahit's mouth-smile is one of many ways she's marked as a barbarian. We don't see any overt racism (directed at other imperials, at least,) but the highest ranking people are mostly shorter and have darker skin. There's no overt sexism either, and key to the plot, no homophobia. Their nationalism, chauvinism, and militarism are enough!
The Teixcalaanli language seems like it's very loosely based on or inspired by Aztec. It has 40 thousand glyphs, mostly whole words but also sounds, with multiple synonyms and homophones that we're told add complexity to their poems. Some of the words I thought might be modified from their sounds in English. Three Seagrass is an 'asekreta' - a secretary perhaps? The emperor's closest advisors are the 'ezuazuacat' - advocate, maybe? And a doctor or scientist is called an 'ixplanatl' - an explainer? Whether this was deliberate on Martine's part or I just imagined the similarity, it contributed to a feeling of ease and internal logic to dealing with the made-up language that you don't always get in fantasy or scifi.
Another pleasure of this book is seeing a fairly complex political situation rendered fairly realistically, and watching Mahit do her job well. We see her learning who the political actors are, what they want, what resources they control, and thus which events - which might on the surface appear random or coincidental - are likely the result of one politician or another's maneuvering, and how she, as a nearly powerless foreigner, can aid one side against another to achieve the outcome she wants for Lsel Station.
There's a real maturity on display in Mahit's thoughtfulness, and I appreciate the work Martine must have put in to writing both the situation and her socially competent protagonist. So often, we're told by narration that a character is smart only to see them behave foolishly. Mahit and Three Seagrass act intelligently, and it's nice to see. And I liked, for example, that the citizenry were not all of one mind, with anti-war protests shown as common, even if they're only dubiously legal. Near the end, there's a disturbing reminder of the January 6th insurrection attempt, in a book came out a year and a half earlier.
If I have any complaints about Memory, it's that the resolution of the crises happens so quickly it almost feels rushed. And the Martine has Mahit mention a few times that Teixcalaanli citizens are all trying to live up to the ideal version of the empire and to structure their own lives like they're characters in an ancient epic. Somehow, the first time she asserted this, it felt like she was referencing something we were supposed to already know, and it never seemed like this claim was really supported by the evidence of anyone's behavior. It stands out, because the rest of the psychology, linguistics, etc, appears more plausible.
I don't know if Martine grew up watching Babylon 5 or Deep Space 9 like I did, although we're close to the same age, but it's certainly plausible that she did, and that some of the similarities I think I see between her book and those shows is a deliberate homage. There's a sequel, although this story is complete in itself. Based on how this book ends, I'd guess that a major part of the sequel plot will be the Teixcalaanli fleet fighting aliens that resemble the Borg or the Shadows - a (potentially) even greater military power, and one that seemingly cannot be negotiated or reasoned with. I also think I see echoes of, or maybe a response to, Ann Leckie's Radchaai empire from Ancillary Justice.
The ambassador, Mahit, hails from Lsel Station, just beyond the Teixcalaanli empire. Both stationers and Teixcalaanlitzim (citizens of Teixcalaan) are human, but Mahit, who serves as our viewpoint character in close third-person, seems more similar to modern audience members than the stranger, more alien-seeming imperials. She also looks like me! "A tall narrow person in a barbarian's foreign-cut trousers and coat, her reddish-brown hair cropped low-grav short, her forehead high and bare."
Mahit grew up learning Teixcalaanli as a second language and loving the empire's poetic epics. She's drafted to become Lsel's new ambassador very suddenly, when the previous one dies unexpectedly. Before she leaves, she's given something that all adult stationers receive at the start of their career - an 'imago machine' that attaches to their brain, and contains the recorded memories and personality of their predecessor. Like the Trill! Or like having the voice of your mentor in your head. In Mahit's case, the most recent recording of previous ambassador Yskander is 15 years old, so she has no idea how he died or what the current situation on Teixcalaan is. (The same word refers to their home planet, their capital city that covers the planet, and the empire itself.)
Once she arrives, Mahit views Yskander's body, which causes the saved personality to experience something between a psychotic break and a Blue Screen of Death - leaving Mahit feeling even more lost and isolated. This is just the start of the busiest and worst week of her life. The entire 450 page novel takes place over just 6 or 7 days, during which Mahit nearly dies several times, and the city goes from relative calm to rioting in the streets. While Mahit tries to figure out what Yskander was doing before, and someone assassinated him for it, she also realizes that she's been placed near the center of the crisis that threatens the stability of Teixcalaan.
Mahit's liaison, and maybe friend, is Three Seagrass, a very clever member of the Information Ministry. She seems to like Mahit, and to help her, more than she probably should; in turn, Mahit trusts her more than she thinks she should too. All the Teixcalaanlitzim have names like that - a number and a noun. Three Seagrass's friend Twelve Azelea helps the two women too much also.
One of the big pleasures of this book is just taking in the complexity of life on Teixcalaan. Martine didn't create a whole language like Tolkein, but she shows us some of it, and through Mahit, describes it and gives linguistic insights. We see some examples to the ubiquitous poetry that all their writing and oration takes place in. We get glimpses of their fashion, their food, their manners. They have 6 directions instead of 4. Flowers are omnipresent. Teixcalaanlitzim keep their faces still and emote only with their eyes. Mahit's mouth-smile is one of many ways she's marked as a barbarian. We don't see any overt racism (directed at other imperials, at least,) but the highest ranking people are mostly shorter and have darker skin. There's no overt sexism either, and key to the plot, no homophobia. Their nationalism, chauvinism, and militarism are enough!
The Teixcalaanli language seems like it's very loosely based on or inspired by Aztec. It has 40 thousand glyphs, mostly whole words but also sounds, with multiple synonyms and homophones that we're told add complexity to their poems. Some of the words I thought might be modified from their sounds in English. Three Seagrass is an 'asekreta' - a secretary perhaps? The emperor's closest advisors are the 'ezuazuacat' - advocate, maybe? And a doctor or scientist is called an 'ixplanatl' - an explainer? Whether this was deliberate on Martine's part or I just imagined the similarity, it contributed to a feeling of ease and internal logic to dealing with the made-up language that you don't always get in fantasy or scifi.
Another pleasure of this book is seeing a fairly complex political situation rendered fairly realistically, and watching Mahit do her job well. We see her learning who the political actors are, what they want, what resources they control, and thus which events - which might on the surface appear random or coincidental - are likely the result of one politician or another's maneuvering, and how she, as a nearly powerless foreigner, can aid one side against another to achieve the outcome she wants for Lsel Station.
There's a real maturity on display in Mahit's thoughtfulness, and I appreciate the work Martine must have put in to writing both the situation and her socially competent protagonist. So often, we're told by narration that a character is smart only to see them behave foolishly. Mahit and Three Seagrass act intelligently, and it's nice to see. And I liked, for example, that the citizenry were not all of one mind, with anti-war protests shown as common, even if they're only dubiously legal. Near the end, there's a disturbing reminder of the January 6th insurrection attempt, in a book came out a year and a half earlier.
If I have any complaints about Memory, it's that the resolution of the crises happens so quickly it almost feels rushed. And the Martine has Mahit mention a few times that Teixcalaanli citizens are all trying to live up to the ideal version of the empire and to structure their own lives like they're characters in an ancient epic. Somehow, the first time she asserted this, it felt like she was referencing something we were supposed to already know, and it never seemed like this claim was really supported by the evidence of anyone's behavior. It stands out, because the rest of the psychology, linguistics, etc, appears more plausible.
I don't know if Martine grew up watching Babylon 5 or Deep Space 9 like I did, although we're close to the same age, but it's certainly plausible that she did, and that some of the similarities I think I see between her book and those shows is a deliberate homage. There's a sequel, although this story is complete in itself. Based on how this book ends, I'd guess that a major part of the sequel plot will be the Teixcalaanli fleet fighting aliens that resemble the Borg or the Shadows - a (potentially) even greater military power, and one that seemingly cannot be negotiated or reasoned with. I also think I see echoes of, or maybe a response to, Ann Leckie's Radchaai empire from Ancillary Justice.
A Memory Called Empire was nominated for a Nebula Award and won a Hugo, and I think those accolades are well deserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment