Wednesday, 25 June 2014 11:04 pm
Book Review: Barrayar
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deckardcanineOK, I underestimated its length due to slim paper (in a deteriorating old paperback), but even nearly 400 pages don't feel so bad after The Satanic Verses. And yes, they go faster.
In order of publication, this is the seventh novel in Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan series; in order of fictional events, it's the third. Either way you look at it, I would've liked to start with another. I always understood what was happening, but it often alluded to a rich-sounding history, not least for the way protagonist Cordelia married her defeated military opponent, Aral Vorkosigan. Oh well, I'll just put earlier volumes on my list.
Barrayar is a planet colonized by humans, with no indigenous life to my knowledge. All Barrayaran nobles have surnames starting with "Vor," which can make them difficult to keep straight. In marriage to one, Cordelia has chosen to move to Barrayar from her home on Beta Colony.
The sci-fi aspects of the story aren't as important as you'd think, at least in this volume. Seems Bujold mainly just wanted to devise two new cultures that clashed as she saw fit. Betan culture offends my sensibilities in some ways, such as by forgoing natural births, but it sounds credible enough in extrapolation from trends that were apparent by 1991. Cordelia's ignorance of the true meaning of poverty makes me suspect a radical utopia, but at least its desert status is unenviable (hmm, Stranger in a Strange Land, anyone?). Barrayar is closer in temperament to the 20th century and in some ways more antiquated -- even subtly in their style of speech -- making Cordelia regret her move much of the time, tho Aral makes a good husband in general.
Her greater regret comes in having encouraged Aral to advance his political career to imperial regency. Little did she know how ugly the competition for power gets on Barrayar. Thus the main source of conflict within the novel, which, as the old cover implies, proceeds to violence.
If one thing stands out about Barrayar, it's the protagonist's pregnancy. Few books I've read let that happen at all, and never from the start of the volume or for nearly so many pages. Hers isn't the only pregnancy either. As you can imagine, the tension runs ever higher. And yes, the story passes the Bechdel test -- barely, as the women can hardly escape the social pressures of men and thus have little else to discuss.
Bujold writes characters strongly enough for both genders. My personal favorites are Cordelia's wounded bodyguard and his female replacement, whom he initially resents. Their subplot gets a pretty complicated yet highly credible emotional treatment, reinforcing my notion that one can apply a few lessons from the reading to reality.
I'll hold off on my next Bujold entry. For now, I've started something my mom bought on a whim in Spain, Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal. That's right: For the first time, I'm reading a whole book in Spanish, albeit one I read in English about 15 years ago. Good thing it doesn't bother conveying thick accents like Hagrid's.
In order of publication, this is the seventh novel in Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan series; in order of fictional events, it's the third. Either way you look at it, I would've liked to start with another. I always understood what was happening, but it often alluded to a rich-sounding history, not least for the way protagonist Cordelia married her defeated military opponent, Aral Vorkosigan. Oh well, I'll just put earlier volumes on my list.
Barrayar is a planet colonized by humans, with no indigenous life to my knowledge. All Barrayaran nobles have surnames starting with "Vor," which can make them difficult to keep straight. In marriage to one, Cordelia has chosen to move to Barrayar from her home on Beta Colony.
The sci-fi aspects of the story aren't as important as you'd think, at least in this volume. Seems Bujold mainly just wanted to devise two new cultures that clashed as she saw fit. Betan culture offends my sensibilities in some ways, such as by forgoing natural births, but it sounds credible enough in extrapolation from trends that were apparent by 1991. Cordelia's ignorance of the true meaning of poverty makes me suspect a radical utopia, but at least its desert status is unenviable (hmm, Stranger in a Strange Land, anyone?). Barrayar is closer in temperament to the 20th century and in some ways more antiquated -- even subtly in their style of speech -- making Cordelia regret her move much of the time, tho Aral makes a good husband in general.
Her greater regret comes in having encouraged Aral to advance his political career to imperial regency. Little did she know how ugly the competition for power gets on Barrayar. Thus the main source of conflict within the novel, which, as the old cover implies, proceeds to violence.
If one thing stands out about Barrayar, it's the protagonist's pregnancy. Few books I've read let that happen at all, and never from the start of the volume or for nearly so many pages. Hers isn't the only pregnancy either. As you can imagine, the tension runs ever higher. And yes, the story passes the Bechdel test -- barely, as the women can hardly escape the social pressures of men and thus have little else to discuss.
Bujold writes characters strongly enough for both genders. My personal favorites are Cordelia's wounded bodyguard and his female replacement, whom he initially resents. Their subplot gets a pretty complicated yet highly credible emotional treatment, reinforcing my notion that one can apply a few lessons from the reading to reality.
I'll hold off on my next Bujold entry. For now, I've started something my mom bought on a whim in Spain, Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal. That's right: For the first time, I'm reading a whole book in Spanish, albeit one I read in English about 15 years ago. Good thing it doesn't bother conveying thick accents like Hagrid's.