author : Jo Walton

Bon Agorin is dying, and his family gathers round for his last hours. He is not rich, and so his unmarried daughters will not have good dowries, and his sons will have to find their own way in the world. What happens next has many of the characteristics a typical Victorian novel, including hissable villains, improbable coincidences, thwarted romances, and satisfying come-uppances --- except for the fact that all the protagonists are dragons. But it's not some trivial substitution: all the background is very richly worked out, including dragon lifecycles, egg laying, flight, and the role of gold. In particular, as noted in the preface quoted above, the female dragons do have many of the qualities of Victorian novel heroines -- which might be slightly grating were it not skillfully countered by their dragonish consumption of great hunks of bloody meat at most meals. Great fun.

What do you do after you have saved the world, a feat that has left you both bereaved and crippled? Especially when you are just a 14 year old girl, and your mother is the mad witch that you have been battling? Well, you run away from home, find your estranged father, end up in a boarding school, try to communicate with the local fairies, and read SF.

On one hand this is a kind of alternative to the great short story "Relentlessly Mundane"; on the other hand it is a coming-of-age autobiography. And on the gripping hand, it is a poem to the genre of Science Fiction. I read it, transfixed. Wow. Most of the time nothing seems to happen. But each small event contributes to Mori's growth, to her moving on, until the ultimate showdown.

This will speak to anyone who grew up supported by reading. Even if they didn't save the world first.

Patricia Cowan is an old woman, forgetful, consigned to a nursing home at the end of her life. The staff note that she is “confused”; she can’t seem to remember the simplest things: which way to turn out of her door, who her children are, any of her life. But that’s not just because of her forgetfulness: she has two sets of memories, and keeps slipping between them. In one, she has a life where she said yes to Mark’s marriage proposal, in the other she has a very different life after she said no. Which life is real?

Walton weaves two very different life histories for her central character, based on a single turning point. Patricia’s life is profoundly affected, as are the lives of people she does, or does not, interact with. Most importantly, to Patricia, are her resulting children: two very different sets, one from each life, both loved. Which children are real? But also, in the background, we see there are two very different world (neither our own), one tending to utopia, the other to doom. Which world is real?

Although it is clear how Patricia’s choice affects her own life, and the lives of those close to her, it is not made clear how it affects the rest of the world, although it is implied that it does: presumably it is some sort of butterfly effect, changing remote people’s decisions. No matter; this is a skilfully drawn and deeply moving portrait of two very different people who are in fact the same person in different circumstances. Patricia’s second, shattering, choice at the end of her life had me reading through strangely misted vision.

It’s not often an author prefaces a short-story collection with a statement that she didn’t know how to write short stories at first, and only the latest two were written after she learned what to do. But don’t worry: this is Jo Walton, and so all are good, and some are great. I have read some of these before on her website, including the gruesome “At the Bottom of the Garden”, and the marvellous “Relentlessly Mundane” (which could serve at an introduction to Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series). But most of these were new to me. If this is what she writes when she doesn’t know how to write, I’m really looking forward to her second collection.

Contents

• Starlings (a poem). 2017

• Three Twilight Tales. 2009

• Jane Austen to Cassandra. 2016

A letter goes astray.

• Unreliable Witness. 2001

An old woman is visited by an alien. Maybe.

• On the Wall. 2001

The mirror cannot lie.

• The Panda Coin. 2011

A coin's adventures in a space station.

• Remember the Allosaur. 2007

What parts can a non-human actor get?

• Sleeper. 2014

Can a simulation of a revolutionary start another revolution?

• Relentlessly Mundane. 2000

What happens to the children after they return from their adventures in magical lands?

• Escape to Other Worlds with Science Fiction. 2009

• Joyful and Triumphant: St Zenobius and the Aliens. 2011

Aliens in heaven.

• Turnover. 2013

Why would those born on a generation ship want the voyage to stop?

• At the Bottom of the Garden. 2000

Modern children and fairies.

• Out if It. 2017

Last chance to repent.

• What a Piece of Work. 2004

The AI is trying to act for the best.

• Parable Lost. 2009

To help or not to help, that is the jellyfish.

• What Would Sam Spade Do?. 2006

Be careful who you clone.

• Tradition. 2007

Cutting the end off the ham.

• What Joseph Felt. 2004

The nativity from Joseph's pov.

• The Need to Stay the Same. 2015

A review of a story about alien humans.

• A Burden Shared. 2017

What if you could shoulder someone else's pain for them?

• Three Shouts on a Hill (a play). 2010

An alternate Irish myth.

• poems. 2017

Girolamo Savonarola was a Dominican friar who preached in Florence, and was burned for heresy in 1498. Nearly the first half of this novel is the story of the six years leading up to this event, with the only fantasy overtones being that Girolamo can see and cast out demons. The novel makes him a sympathetic character, rather than the somewhat puritanical zealot of history. But on his execution, the novel takes a highly unexpected turn. For this Girolamo Savonarola is not human.

For me, the story got much more interesting once the fantasy aspects are foregrounded. As I said, that’s nearly half the way through. Up until then, it can be read (apart from the demons) as a relatively straightforward dramatisation of an historical figure. This is well done, but not my usual fare; however, I like Walton’s work, so I persisted. And it was worth the wait.

The rest of the book, which I can’t describe without massive spoilers, has the same historical feel, although the context has changed dramatically. It gives a wonderful view of life in Italy at this time, through a fantastical lens, and keeps you guessing until the end. I thought the ending was very slightly rushed, but everything fit together perfectly.

Sylvia is a renowned fantasy author, coming to the end of her life. This is a problem for her muse, who doesn’t want to die with her. He has a cunning plan.

This is simply amazing. It is wonderfully imaginative, very meta, and deeply moving. Each of the worlds is fully realised: Walton’s love affair with Italy is evident, and the weaving together of various Shakespearean characters in their lives after the plays and Sylvia’s subsequent tales, is fascinating. In particular, the consequences of Sylvia’s authorial choices about immortality and change play out in complex and satisfying ways.

Walton just gets better and better. Highly recommended.

Having just finished Plato at the Googleplex, this seemed like the obvious next read.

The gods Athene and Apollo decide to set up and run a ‘Just City’, following the rules Plato laid down in his Repbulic. They find a suitably isolated island, and recruit a bunch of people from throughout history: ones who have prayed to Athene to live there. These people become the first rulers, and they buy cohorts of 10-year-old-slaves (with some rather unfortunate repercussions on the local slave economy) to become the first people actually fully raised according to Plato’s plan. They all settle down to being the best selves they can be, for the most part. Things are going along reasonably well, although the planned parenthoods, and enslaved machines becoming sentient, are causing some wobbles. Then they decide to introduce Sokrates to the mix...

This is a gentle novel with deep consequences. It has three point-of-view characters – a god, a ruler, and a child – as we see the Just City grow from its inception until the children reach adulthood.

I’m glad I had read Plato at the Googleplex just before this, as I am not as familiar with Plato’s philosophy as I could be. My only previous information was from reading Popper’s The Open Society and Its Enemies many years ago, and getting a rather less positive view of his philosophy.

Jo Walton’s novel of living in Plato’s Republic steers a course between these two views. There are certainly all the nasty totalitarian issues Popper rails against, from the Noble Lie downwards, but there are other problems in utopia. In particular, the use of robots instead of slaves to do all the scut-work initially seems to be a clever technological solution to a very real problem, but it turns out to have problems of its own. Most of the issues are experienced only second-hand through the viewpoint characters, who have been raised or trained within the philosophy, and are so less critical than we are. The initial nerd-wish-fulfillment educational aspects, even when confronted with Sokratic stirring, eventually have to give way to the underlying problems, however.

I thoroughly enjoyed this, and am looking forward to the sequel: The Philosopher Kings.

Be excellent!

The tumultuous events at the end of The Just City, twenty years ago, have resulted in schism: there are now five cities on the island, each following their own different version of Plato’s vision. And they are using their warrior training to engage in “art raids”, stealing artworks from the original city for themselves. One such raid leads to tragedy, and sparks the events of this book. Apollo, living as the mortal Pytheas, is devastated, and swears vengeance. He, accompanied by several of his children, and other members of the Just City, leave on their ship to pursue the alleged perpetrators, who left the island just before the schism. They find they are not the only ones following Plato’s vision, which could lead to some historical complications.

This is another fine book by Jo Walton, told from three viewpoints: Apollo, his daughter, and her teacher. It is again a gentle novel, with people behaving relatively rationally under very trying circumstances. Even one incredibly brutal scene is recounted somewhat dispassionately, without wallowing in the gore.

The changes Apollo’s half-god children undergo, and the amazing solution to the future problems being caused by those who left the island, make me want to read the next installment immediately.

In this conclusion to the Thessaly trilogy, the Platonists are having a busy day: the mortal Pytheas dies and is immediately reincarnated as the god Apollo, Athene goes missing, and humans discover their colony planet.

From the blurb, it is clear what this book will be about: the culture clash as the Platonists meet the 26th century humans. And then, brilliantly, it’s not about that at all. Instead, it’s a fascinating theological mystery tale.

This is a fantastic conclusion, touching on alien cultures and their gods, philosophy, pronouns, families, AI sentience, time travel paradoxes, and so much more. And Sokrates is back; yay!

Truly excellent.

This is the story of Sulien ap Gwien, a warrior fighting with High King Urdo to restore Peace to the land of Tir Tanagiri. The first half of the book is about her training, her rise through the ranks, and all the battles, told with a real feel of slogging through cold mud, the hardships of campaign, the grief of losing companions, the logistics of supplying an army, and the fierce joy of battle. The second half, subtitled The King's Law, tells of the even more difficult fights, some physical, some religious, most political, to maintain that hard-won Peace.

Although in one sense this is an alternate history Arthurian story, it is sufficiently alternate that it can be read as straight fantasy. All the names are different (some more different than others), events are different although analogous, even the geography is subtly different, and magic and the Old Gods are real, and play an important part. Occasionally a name is close enough to give you a foreboding if you know the legends, but even if you don't you won't miss much -- the "first person retrospective" style allows the narrator to interject comments like "If I had known what he would do later, I would have killed him then." The main difference is Sulien herself. She's a great character, and the world has been carefully set up so that women can realistically be warriors -- she's not the only one in the story.

This is a good read. There's a rich background (the personnel and all that food for the army don't just pop out of thin air; there are families and farms), lots of distinguishable characters and geography (but I could have done with some family trees, and a map), and absolutely no bloat in the prose (the whole two part book runs to just 400 pages -- lesser authors could easily have written several times that). I'm now off to read the rest of Sulien's story.

• Novacon 30 panel discussion -- What's Hot and What's Not

The Peace has been won, but nothing lasts forever. After five years, several kings decide to revolt, egged on by the scheming Morthu. So Urdo and Sulien have to take up arms again, to maintain the Peace.

This continues the tale in the previous volume (the two books together essentially form a short trilogy, with this being the third book), and maintains the high standard set there. Lots of the foreshadowing seen earlier comes to pass here, and there is a good closure to the story. The large sprawling cast list leaves room for several tragedies, several happy endings, and some justice seen to be done. And there is an amusing Introduction, set several centuries later in the same alternate world, casting some doubts on the authenticity of these "Sulien Texts".

I bought this pair in hardback since it seemed as if they were never going to appear in paperback; I'm not sorry I did.