Saevus Corax Captures the Castle - K.J. Parker

The new Parker trilogy is releasing at a rapid pace this year, following up Saevus Corax Deals with the Dead with this new volume. And, in case you were wondering, yes, it is rather good. I will sound a note of caution that it hits a lot of the same notes stylistically as the previous volume. Our protagonist is smart, funny, determined to just keep his head down and out of the way - and yet catastrophic, world altering events seem to always catch him in their wake. Or the other way around, I suppose. There's civilisations that look familiar if you squint and turn your head to the left a bit, some genuinely funny dialogue, and a viciously dark view of the world which also holds up the best of humanity even as it washes its hands of 'em.

Which is to say, it's a K.J. Parker book; by this point, you probably know what you're getting in terms of structure and tone. I will say though that the story remains as wonderfully byzantine as ever (in several senses), the characterisation is detailed, multi-faceted and occasionally throws out a total surprise, and the technical execution in general is top tier. If you liked the previous Corax book, you won't fond this one disappoints. 

Saevus Corax remains as charming, devious and occasionally outright brutal as ever. Or perhaps I should say ruthless, given hsi gift for playing all the angles. In this instance, those angles involve a castle. And how one might take that away from the people currently in it, and keep hold of it afterward. It's a simple conceit (and one which, to be fair, doesn't take up the entire book, which instead pinwheels out of control from there in a very satisfying fashion). But it allows us to see Corax in full flow. To live inside the monologue of someone about to make some very bloody decisions, for the very best of reasons. And later a plan inside another plan inside another. Like an onion, except with arrows and big rocks. There's further, somewhat cryptic delving into his past as well, piecing together things the man himself has tried to forget for quite a while - and which, as these things do, are likely to come back at the worst moment. Again, like an onion, we see sides to Corax we didn't find in the last book - and it's a triumph that Parker can show us these layers, show us the psychological and physical cost of being Saevus Corax, and make him both sympathetic and an unrepentant terror. In any event, Corax remains a fine fellow to share a head and an inner monologue with; just don't accept any wine he gives you.

The story rattles along nicely between reveals, crosses, double crosses and so on. It also moves geographically, including a richly wrought ersatz Byzantine empire, complete with theatres and mail coaches - and other, far stranger places I wont get into for fear of spoilers. Suffice to say, they're eerily alive as well. And the book itself remains a solid, entertaining read moment to moment - from battle debris to sieges to night rides to love and promises and betrayal, there's something for everyone. And the sheer accessibility of Corax as a narrator, his cheerful unreliability and ruthlessness, is what makes it work, and kept me turning pages on and on and on. If you're a Parker fan, it'll probably work for you, too - go give it a whirl.

System Collapse - Martha Wells

 

Murderbot is back!  And it's about time. This series has been a runaway success, and I must admit that in my view it's entirely deserved. I've been champing at the bit for a new Murderbot novel since, well, since about a day after the release of the last one. And, well, here it is. Is it any good? Dear reader, the answer is an unmitigated yes. If you're a fan, and up to date with the series: Go out and pick this one up right away. If you're not: Go and read the rest of the series, then go out and pick this one up right away.

Now that that's out of the way. 

Murderbot, eh? It's a fantastic protagonist, a fish out of water that isn't entirely sure whether it wants to be in the water or invest in some sort of aquatic environmental suit. Murderbot doesn't know exactly what it is, but it knows it isn't an AI, or a robot, or a human. But it's also determined to be a person, on its own terms, with an ethical framework spun up from first principles, with the help of sci-fi space operas and rather a lot of sarcasm. And it's going well, between ups and downs, corporate takeovers, hostile alien assimilations and the odd drone-battle, Murderbot is figuring itself out. But there's a lot to unpack there - and this is a story about how Murderbot isn't alright, actually, and how that's okay. Because after everything its seen and done, Murderbot is having to handle some fairly impressive trauma...but also keep people alive, and do all kinds of heroics, when it would clearly much rather be watching its shows. 

One of the strong points of the series has been the way it delves into emotion, into how and why we feel the way we do. Approaching the idea that it's okay not to be okay, Wells wraps it in a panacea of banter and explosive action, but the raw, emotional honesty of Murderbot remains. It's digging around to figure out what it is, and why it doesn't feel right. And as readers, we can live that struggle, empathise with that pain, cheer on that discovery and, perhaps, recovery. This is a book which talks about isolation, about depression, about identity and that sense of belonging (or not). And it hurts to read and think about and empathise over, but it also feels true. 

That said. Don't worry if the above isn't entirely your cup of tea. Because we aren't entirely here to unpick Murderbot's psyche. We're also here to save the world. Well, a world, anyway. Because Murderbot and its friends are currently far out on a limb, trying to dig a colony of hapless people out of the alien-contaminated soup they got themselves into, while fending off the ever helpful efforts of a rapacious interstellar corporation, which isn't entirely above bringing in a squad of bots of its own, to help things go the way it wants. You can always rely on this series to poke fun at corporate culture in service of painting a dystopian corporate future, and it does so with all the grace and lethality of a stiletto between the ribs. The planet itself, the claustrophobic tunnels packed with wary colonists and alien remnants that might be time-bombs, is familiar from earlier in the series, but no less well realised for that; the cramped habitats and dusty, wayward tram tracks into looming darkness remain as ominously mundane as ever. Murderbot's world is a plausible one, a lived in one, one you may see in your minds eye a year or ten from now. A warning to us, and possibly a promise. 

As for the story, well. Absolutely stellar. This is a thoughtful, action-packed story about people, and also humans. And it has a heart to it, and an emotional weight and gravitas that you can feel *searing* into you off the back of every page.

And it has the banter you're looking for, maybe. And it has the snark. But it also has points to make about corporations and how we choose to live our lives while we try and make good choices. And about the agency we have to make choices. And it explores consequences and it hurts and it'll jerk tears and pain right out of you by being a story about a sarcastic Murderbot which is also real and raw and true and painful and vulnerable in its honesty.

Another fantastic entry in the series - and thoroughly recommended.

Back next week!

 We've been at the doctors and it turns out neither of us can type much at the moment without suffering - so we'll be back next week!