This is a book of loss and devastation, what remains, and what grows from the ashes of a broken world. North brings this plausible dystopian world to life with stark imagery and elegant prose. Although the premise has the components of a spy thriller, the story is definitely a slower burn.
The overarching narrative never quite grabbed me, but the cat and mouse interplay between Ven and his on-again, off-again adversary/captor was really intriguing.
I had not read any of Claire North’s work prior to this novel, but I’ve come away impressed and excited to see what she writes next.
As an aside, I hope Orbit sticks with Leo Nickolls and Siobhan Hooper for the cover art/design on future books. They did an outstanding job with this one.
My thanks to NetGalley and Orbit for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
Publisher’s summary: Misanthropic psychologist Dr. Grace Park is placed on the Deucalion, a survey ship headed to an icy planet in an unexplored galaxy. Her purpose is to observe the thirteen human crew members aboard the ship—all specialists in their own fields—as they assess the colonization potential of the planet, Eos. But frictions develop as Park befriends the androids of the ship, preferring their company over the baffling complexity of humans, while the rest of the crew treats them with suspicion and even outright hostility.
Shortly after landing, the crew finds themselves trapped on the ship by a radiation storm, with no means of communication or escape until it passes—and that’s when things begin to fall apart. Park’s patients are falling prey to waking nightmares of helpless, tongueless insanity. The androids are behaving strangely. There are no windows aboard the ship. Paranoia is closing in, and soon Park is forced to confront the fact that nothing—neither her crew, nor their mission, nor the mysterious Eos itself—is as it seems.
1. We Have Always Been Here is a tense psychological sci-fi thriller. I found your writing to really convey tension in a palpable way. Is there anything specific you focus on in your prose/word choice to evoke this feeling?
Thank you so much for your kind words, and thank you for having me for this interview!
Writing suspense and tense scenes has always been a balancing act for me. Typically, I tend to focus on making sentences very fluid and stream-of-consciousness, sort of scattered in subject, in order to replicate how fast the character’s thoughts must be moving in those heart-stopping moments. I also employ a lot of structural interruptions—such as sentences that are cut off in the middle of their train of thought by sudden action—as well as a lot of rapidfire internal questions. Park, the protagonist of We Have Always Been Here, has a habit of thinking about a million things at once in order to make sense of her situation, even as someone is chasing her down a hallway or menacing her with a gun; so the narration is peppered with a lot of How could this be happening? What about the security guard? Did the killer get him already, or—
That kind of rapid movement and pacing really helps ramp up and maintain the tension of the scene, I think—though you have to be careful to avoid getting so hectic and frenzied that readers lose track of what’s going on!
2.Your story jumps back and forth between Dr. Grace Park’s present and past, as well as a mysterious viewpoint told through video log transcriptions — how did you decide on this structure?
That’s a good question! Skirting spoilers as much as possible, I think playing around with space and time (and dreams and reality) is a large part of the book’s main conceit as well as a driving factor of its horror. The patients aboard the ship begin to have difficulty distinguishing between their waking states and nightmares. Park has difficulty making sense of the physical space of the ship; corridors seem to meld together, or turn into spaces that they shouldn’t, and you’re not really sure if this is due to her bad sense of direction or something else. Similarly, time begins to fold into itself in asymmetric ways: Park’s past and present (and future) become interconnected and hard to distinguish from each other, and you start to see in a very visceral way how her relationships with characters in the past are informing her relationships in the present: with her friends, android companions, adversaries, and even love interests. Eventually, past and present timelines get creased into the very same chapters or paragraphs as each other, instead of being clearly divided between “standalone” flashback chapters and present-day chapters—so the narrative structure of the book starts to reflect the overall progressive blending of space and time. I really wanted it to be this way from the start, partially to reflect what the characters themselves are experiencing on the ship, and partially because I knew that exploring Park’s past would be an important part of uncovering the mysteries that are plaguing the ship in the present.
As for the video transcripts, I’ve always been a big fan of the “found footage” genre of horror films. There’s an added layer to “found footage” in text and prose that really interests me—there’s something about the transcript format that leaves even more room for the imagination, subtext and space for the things unseen and unsaid. It allows you to fill in the gaps for yourself in a way that straightforward prose with an actual narrator doesn’t always allow. With a narrator, you have someone—even an omniscient, third-person observer—telling you what’s going on, laying out the scene for you, giving subtle shape to the narrative with their perspective and what they’re drawing your attention to. With “found footage” or the video transcripts, it’s more distanced, neutral: you are limited to what the “camera” records, what footage has survived, and you’re left to draw your own conclusions about what it’s all capturing (and not capturing). With the video transcripts in the book, you don’t initially know where or when all of this is taking place, who or what you’re embodying as the viewer, or the connection between when the videos were filmed versus when they were discovered versus when they were actually watched… It was another cool way to play around with space and time, alongside what was going on with Park!
3.Grace is one of two psychologists aboard the ill-fated Deucalion mission, which includes twelve other humans and a bevy of androids. What made you want to tap into Grace’s perspective?
I feel like, in a lot of android media, we’re very preoccupied with the android characters’ journeys to becoming more human. We focus a lot on what happens to an android when it’s dropped into a human environment, how it adapts and learns and reacts to what’s going on around it. (Think Sonny in I, Robot.) And I was very interested in exploring the dynamic from the other way around: what happens to a person when their developmental stages are influenced very strongly by machine intelligences and android understandings of the world? How does that change them, alter the course of their personalities and even lives? Does it at all?
So the character of Park started with that question: what would a naturally introverted character be like if she was raised by androids? What would her thought process entail? I wanted to capture the comfort and security she might feel, surrounded by friends and family who are literally bound to never leave or conflict with her—but who still challenge her in certain ways, especially with their shortcomings. Vice-versa, I wanted to capture the alienation and skittishness she might feel about the unpredictability of human relationships and interactions, as opposed to the stability and safety of her android companions.
Her occupation as the ship’s psychologist stemmed from all of that. I feel that, in many ways, Park’s upbringing has made her into an observer of human activity, an outsider looking in, and her career in human psychology has been part of her effort to overcome that barrier. You see that persisting in her job on the Deucalion, as she’s tasked with observing what the other crewmembers are doing, always watching but never fully participating or understanding. That’s the perspective I wanted to tap into. She wants badly to understand, it’s a psychologist’s job to understand, but because she was brought up in such a different way, she faces certain obstacles that, say, a combat specialist or a pilot wouldn’t. Much of this book is about understanding, and what Park herself can or can’t comprehend, and her role as the ship’s orbiter and psychologist reflects that.
4.There’s a cinematic quality to this story and I think a film adaptation should surely be in order! Is there a film or TV show out there, sci-fi or otherwise, that you could say, “If you like X, you’ll like WHABH”?
Haha, thank you so much! When I was writing the book, a lot of the scenes played out in my head like cinematic sequences from a movie, so it would be an honor to see the story adapted for the screen!
The primary films that influenced the atmosphere and tension of We Have Always Been Here were Alien; I, Robot; Ex Machina; and Event Horizon, which are pretty much all science fiction murder mysteries or space horror films in some way. I think if people enjoy the book, especially the thriller aspects of it, they’ll definitely like those movies. (I mentioned I, Robot before, but the character of Sonny was a big influence in how I wrote Jimex, so that deserves another mention.)
I also thought a lot about how Stanley Kubrick filmed The Shining as a way to envision the disorientating and sometimes accordioning architecture of the Deucalion, so readers might enjoy the otherworldly, spatial impossibilities and claustrophobia there. I also think films like Arrival and Annihilation have ushered in a very cool age of sci-fi aesthetics that readers of We Have Always Been Here might enjoy.
Finally, I’m a big video game player, so some SFF games made their way into my writing of the book. For fans of We Have Always Been Here, I’d recommend checking out Detroit: Become Human, Dead Space, and Mass Effect.
5.What was the last great book you read? What are you reading now? What is next on your to-read list?
I’m a huge lover of fantasy, so everything I’ve read in the last year or so has been fantasy. I recently read two series that had a huge impact on me: the first would be the Daevabad trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty, starting with The City of Brass. The second would be the Chronicles of the Bitch Queen by K.S. Villoso, which starts with The Wolf of Oren-Yaro. Both series feature fascinating, complex, and flawed heroines (a little like Park, though I admit Nahri and Talyien are more badass); very lovely supporting casts; and spell-binding worldbuilding influenced by the magic of real-world cultures (Islamic and Filipino, respectively). I’m in love with both!
I am eagerly awaiting the next book in the Fire Sacraments series by Robert VS Redick, this latest offering being called Sidewinders. Robert is one of my favorite fantasy authors of all time, and Sidewinders releases on the same day that We Have Always Been Here does! So I’m very much looking forward to that!
6.Can you share what you’re working on next? Have you left the WHABH universe for good?
Right now, I’m in the earliest draft stages of my next novel, an apocalyptic fantasy I’m calling The Land of Salt and Bone. I haven’t decided yet whether it’s actually something like speculative fantasy, science fantasy, dieselpunk, or something else entirely… Basically, it’s Mad Max crossed with X-Men. There are assassins, gunfights, car chases across an apocalyptic and sometimes radioactive desert, the ghostly ruins of an advanced civilization, and mutant superpowers with very fun quirks and costs. The story mainly follows two assassins: one who accidentally picks up a pair of mutant twins in her bid to escape her past, and the other is a mercenary hired to kill the first. It’s very flashy and action-packed—different from the claustrophobia and darkness of We Have Always Been Here, but you might see a few subtle nods to characters from the Deucalion if you squint.
I always planned on We Have Always Been Here being a standalone story, but I know by now that you can never say never. As an undergrad, I wrote a novel set during the period of the Comeback—some hundred years before Park’s era in We Have Always Been Here—that I may revisit someday: that one’s about the plant armageddon and carbon pirates, both of which are mentioned in WHABH. So I might get back to that someday, or even visit other places in that universe, or even take a look at the Deucalion itself…
For now, though, I’m satisfied with how the pieces fell in Park’s story, and I think I hear the desert—both my home and The Land of Salt and Bone—calling my name.
Many thanks to Lena for her thoughtful, in-depth responses.
Reading Jade City provided a welcome respite from more traditional (and generic) epic fantasy fare. Fonda Lee has crafted a compelling family drama, situated within an intriguing world, with an awesome magic system to boot. There’s plenty of war and conflict to be had here so I’m curious to see how things escalate in the ominously titled sequel, Jade War.
Shel is a truly gifted storyteller and he’s woven a trilogy-capping book that is dark, twisty, funny, wholly satisfying, and bloody brilliant…major emphasis on the “bloody.”
Sometimes the third book in a series starts to feel stale if it’s not charting new ground, but Shel has injected enough fresh energy into this story and its characters to pay off this final adventure splendidly. There’s so much fantasy goodness packed into the pages here: demonic possession, talking swords, beasts from hell, false gods, geopolitical conflict, cults, and of course, a dangerous expedition into an ancient cursed ruin. It’s all rendered beautifully on the page by Shel’s delightful prose. Bump this trilogy up your TBRs folks. This is a masterful conclusion to an outstanding series.
My thanks to the author for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
Having read The House in the Cerulean Sea (which I loved) and now Under the Whispering Door, I’ve noticed a certain Pixar-esque sensibility to T.J. Klune’s writing – there’s a dynamic premise, a gentle touch, a colorful cast of characters, and a thoughtful message. The tone borders right on the edge of being too syrupy sweet, but Klune injects enough turmoil and heft into the proceedings to never cross over into cloyingness.
I did have some difficulty getting behind Wallace’s redemption arc here, as his introduction paints him in such a vile light that it made it hard to believe his personality could undergo such a 180 in such a short time. As such, I did not find this book to be as effective or affecting as The House in the Cerulean Sea, but it is still well worth your time. I really enjoy Klune’s writing and I look forward to reading whatever he pens next.
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
We Have Always Been Here is a gripping sci-fi thriller that twisted in unexpected directions and kept me hooked all the way to the end. There’s a real palpable tension and delirium infused into Nguyen’s writing that enhances what could have been a straightforward thriller into something much deeper, sharper, and stranger. I’m excited to see what Nguyen writes next, as this was an excellent debut.
My thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
Fugitive Telemetry has all the trappings of a classic Murderbot story – trademark snark, funny situations, a compelling murder mystery, and a seemingly unfeeling security robot that feels feelings. Murderbot is back and just as good as ever.
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.
The Speculative Shelf is thrilled to welcome E. J. Beaton to the blog today to discuss her outstanding debut novel, The Councillor (out March 2, 2021) from DAW Books.
The book follows Lysande, a scholar plucked out of an academy at a young age to work for the Iron Queen of Elira. When the queen is killed by an unknown assassin, Lysande is thrust into a leadership role in the kingdom, with little support and only her wits to guide her. You can find our review of the book here.
DAW Books is hosting a giveaway for 3 copies of The Councillor (Age: 18+, US residents only) – you can enter here.
1. The Councillor is labeled “Machiavellian fantasy” — How would you describe this subgenre as it applies to your novel?
The Councillor has a bit of a dialogue with Machiavellian thought. Lysande confronts the consequences of persecution and class inequality, and considers who has historically paid the price for leaders’ choices – as a less privileged person, she’s aware of the allure of power yet also critical of it.
Machiavelli famously described the practical moves that a leader can make to establish their power. His best-known treatise, The Prince, explains how a feudal leader can rule effectively. But he was living in a divided Italy during a time of widespread chaos and pillaging, and he was calling on a leader to unite and stabilise the country. He had one eye on the realities of politics, yet simultaneously, he hoped for a better world.
That’s how I’d describe the main character in The Councillor, too. Lysande has a realistic understanding of power, and she’s studied political history. Yet she also sees the need for structural change and hopes that society can change for the better. The question that remains is whether she’ll be committed to achieving that justice herself, or whether the allure of power will be too strong for her to resist.
2. The Councillor features multiple unique cultures that feel lived-in and well-developed. Were any of these modeled after real historical world cultures?
Thank you for the kind comment! Multiculturalism was an essential part of the world-building in the novel. None of the cultures directly adapt real-world cultures or are intended as a faithful representation of any country, but some of the places I’ve visited inspired a few creations.
The city of Rhime is partly inspired by the places in Italy I’ve visited, including Rome, the Vatican, Cinque Terre, Florence, and the Tuscan countryside. The decoration of ceilings with elaborate sculptures and trompe-d’oeuil paintings in the novel, for example, are based on some of the Italian churches and buildings I walked through. The land that Lysande travels through in Rhimese territory is inspired by my travels in Tuscany, including the special quality of the light and the vibrant colours of the environment.
The use of city-states was partly inspired by my reading about Renaissance Italy – I was intrigued by the concept of a range of different rulers co-existing, sometimes chaotically, within the one country. On the other hand, aspects of Axium are inspired by English history, and Axium’s values are linked to the values taught historically in the English-based curriculum. Lysande comes to question those values over the course of the novel.
I’ve travelled a fair bit in Asia and Europe and have worked in Cambodia, so there are bits of things that I’ve observed from a range of countries and shaped into my own creations, but less concentrated in one city. It’s probably more of a subtle tribute. Being Australian, I had my own country’s varied nature to consider, too: I tried to create a multi-climate land where you could find desert, jungle, temperate land and snow-capped mountains all within the same country.
3. Lysande, your main character, becomes addicted to ingesting a powdered dragon scale, of sorts. Drug addiction is not something I see much of in modern fantasy. Why was it important to include this difficulty in Lysande’s journey?
I was hoping to show the lived experience of overlapping mental and physical struggles – the combination of those two things at once can be very dangerous, and Lysande has learned to keep her struggles a secret. She’s a high-performing person who manages to conceal a lot of her emotional life. It was important to me to show the toll that these kinds of problems take on the body and mind at once, and how denial and shame work to keep that pain hidden.
The effects of chimera scale are based on effects that I experienced in my own struggle with illness. Mentally, Lysande’s scale use is calming, but physically it acts as a stimulant. This was modelled on an unhealthy cycle of behaviour I experienced where those two things – physical stimulus and mental calm – would be happening at once. I hope that by showing Lysande’s struggle with damaging behaviours, I can help someone else out there to feel a little less alone. That’s something I found, myself, from reading or watching stories about similar health struggles: I felt better after experiencing those stories, even if they were emotionally tough.
4. How do you think your experience as a poet influences your approach to writing a novel?
The aesthetic possibilities of language really open up in poetry. I think language is beautiful, and there’s a power in a writing style that can speak to the senses and to the deeper emotions. My approach to writing inherits something from my love of poetry, although I do feel that writing is a constant learning process, and I’m always trying to improve my writing.
One aspect of poetry that has influenced my prose is the search for more specific words, whether that’s nouns, adjectives, or verbs – words that say exactlywhat I want to say and aren’t just the first ones I grab for in my mental bag. I’m also a fan of combinations of words that suggest rather than tell. For example, saying that someone has a knife-like smile or a dangerous smile is different to saying that they have a mean smile.
Poetry also makes me conscious of rhythm: what a short sentence can do, what a long sentence can do, and how alliteration or other techniques can create different rhythms. It helps me to think about the beat of my words, and how that can match the action of a scene. A character’s slow observation has a different rhythm to furious warfare, for example, and the accumulation of insight has its own particular and peculiar rhythms.
5. What was the last great book you read? What are you reading now? What is next on your to-read list?
I really enjoyed Piranesi by Susanna Clarke, Circe by Madeline Miller, and The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker. Those three books seemed beautiful and powerful at once; they all feature elegant prose, but they also have emotional journeys that leave a lingering ache.
I’ve just started reading Ocean Vuong’s poetry collection, Night Sky With Exit Wounds. As in his debut novel, he writes with such beauty about difficult and painful things.
Some fantasy books I have my eye on to read soon are Aliette de Bodard’s Fireheart Tiger, Rebecca Roanhorse’s Black Sun, and when it comes out, Suyi Davies Okungbowa’s Son of the Storm – I’m very impatiently awaiting that one!
6. Can you share your plan for any future installment(s) in the world of The Councillor?
I’m working on the sequel to The Councillor at the moment, and wrangling with the story. Some of the tension between two characters boils over in the second book and there are consequences, both personal and political consequences. Lysande is also grappling with a question about her identity and trying to make sense of who she really is. If all my scenes make it through edits, then these words should give some hints: book, rope, fire, birth.
Many thanks to E. J. for her thoughtful responses.
Clark has imagined an incredible world here. Everything is so richly detailed and vivid. Although the mystery at the heart of this novella was not as compelling as the one in the original short story, A Dead Djinn in Cairo, the sharp writing and unexpected twists and turns will keep me coming back for as long as Clark keeps writing stories in this setting.