Defender by CJ Cherryh

Three years after Bren and company take the space station, Bren spends the first third of the book confused at the pieces moving around the situation: himself, robots, Ramirez, Geigi, Jase, Yolanda, Ginny, Ilsidi, Tabini’s heir, a long dead ruler’s funeral, and the silence of Tabini keeping Bren in the dark. Then he spends the second two thirds helping push those pieces as fast as possible, hoping he pushes in the correct direction. All while dealing with family emergencies from a vast distance. This story of conspiracy, political intrigue, and negotiation relies on a competent Bren dealing with rapidly changing situations to come up with potential solutions. When first introduced to Bren, back in the first trilogy, Cherryh tells the reader that he works as a diplomat and translator. Yet Cherryh’s plot and characters show him like a spy: his kidnapping, torture, ignorance, and actions do not match up with what Cherryh tells about Bren. However, her we see diplomat Bren in full force. In short, Bren’s effectiveness and understanding drive the plot—thanks in large part to CJ Cherryh’s tightly focused, third person perspective.

“I don’t envy you in that regard. But you came out sane. And decent. And worthwhile. It’s what we do, more than who we are, that makes our personal lives a mess. If we didn’t do what we do for a job, ordinary people might figure out how to get along with us.”

But that doesn’t mean Bren understands everything. At many points, Bren wonders why Tabini wanted him at the funeral on the planet. But when the reveal comes a third of the way in, he realizes that Tabini didn’t need him there so much as need him away from the station. This makes sense based on Tabini’s character, as Cherryh’s characters usually make sense. I already know Tabini uses those around him as assets—he devotes himself to their safety, but only to a point. They all are expendable for the greater good, as Tabini is in charge of the greater good. But beyond that, his secretive ways and desire to double check everything make sense in this specific situation—which Bren and the reader do not understand until later in the book. Also, the atevi-human interface gets in the way, as Bren wants to like Tabini and feels slighted at Tabini keeping him in the dark. This feeling reinforces the alienness of Bren and the atevi. Alienness always works both ways.

God hope the house of cards he and Tabini had built lasted long enough to provide a pattern for the girders of a whole new world.

The plot again shows Cherryh setting up a situation, then dripping and implying information about the characters to the reader, meaning that the ending falls rationally out of the people involved. I want to dwell on this for a few more sentences because this tendency brilliantly guides a lot of Cherryh’s work, and all of the books in this Foreigner series so far. She holds back information from Bren and the reader—due to her tightly focused, third person narrative—to help set up tension and mystery. But she also pulls no punches—a passing statement early in the book that the ship is fueled and can move at any time comes home at the end when it undocks from the station. This pace of revealing information drives Cherryh’s plot pacing: slightly too long for a reveal in Voyager in Night, perfect pacing in Precursor.

“Gently, gently, young man,” Ilisidi said. “Haste only startles what you wish to catch. Stalk your desires. Don’t snatch.”

The theme here shows Bren dealing with assumptions, learning truths, and then trying to react in wise ways to the new situation. This applicable theme seems a bit broad, sure, to some extent all books are about this theme. But Cherryh really dives into the theme, throwing misunderstandings, surprises, and multiple opinions at the reader to show how Bren’s rational note-taking and thinking helps prioritize problems and isolate unknowns, suggesting ways to deal with the unknowns. And then, because she pulls no punches, we see him trying various responses, some successful, some not. This willingness to let Bren not succeed every time perfectly shows Cherryh’s strength at creating characters. If Bren ever succeeds without cost, I would stop reading these books.

Atevi relied on a rational universe. Humans on the island enclave of Mospheira had faith in miracles. Humans on the starship over their heads had more faith in a second armed starship and a planetful of allies, in a universe otherwise sparse with life.

The one thing I would say about this book is that it wouldn’t make much sense without first reading Precursor, at least. Ilsidi and Tabini are really sketched in here, as characters, and the reader could easily be lost without having some sense of how those characters react to reality. But, being a sequel in a series I think should build off of each book, this potential negative is actually a positive to me. I’m glad Cherryh didn’t spend twenty more pages explaining these two characters.

“We do not forget,” Tabini continued, as nerve and flesh all but liquefied in relief and bodyguards stood down from red alert. Tabini swept on, in possession of all attention. Thank God no program dropped. Breathing itself was at a minimum. Tabini’s oratory was all fortunate threes now, rapid, hammering into nerves still resounding to two strokes of the bell, still waiting for the resolution of their universe. “We do not break our strong connections with all that Valasi-aiji built. We do not abrogate our traditions. The more knowledge we acquire, the more we rationally comprehend the universe, the more we control our own destiny—”

One last comment here. Cherryh baits and hooks the reader, she doesn’t pull punches. But she also bait and double or triple hooks the reader. When Ramirez moves to his deathbed, Cherryh hooked me hard. I know things are going to blow up with the ship then, and maybe the station too. But then Ramirez lets out that the other station that suffered an alien attack, Reunion, has survivors aboard. Now I’m hooked again, with this juicy problem facing the characters. And right then, Ilsidi and Tabini’s heir appear on the station. And Bren’s mom starts maybe dying. And Jill leaves Toby. Cherryh just piles on the problems and the book can’t be read fast enough from there. Bait and double hook. I need to do this more in my own writing.

His security had not been idle. Never, ever think it. “So you have suspicions.”
“It’s our tendency, is it not?”

I adore this book. Where Precursor stands among Cherryh’s best work, this one falls just barely short of that. Bren doesn’t change so much as his understanding of his relationships with those around him change. And only having one character so far, that lack of change did drag the book down a bit for me. This shows a book more about adventurous negotiation than character development, and I always advocate for character development. Don’t get me wrong though: this book is about the characters, firmly about them and not the adventure, but because those characters don’t change much, the book doesn’t hit me as hard as Precursor did. However, this is probably my second favorite in the series so far. Good book. Solidly good book. Well worth the read after Precursor.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and folded his hands and stopped where he was, listening, waiting while a very sick woman tried to gather her faculties.
“First off, tell the dowager she’s a right damn bastard.”
It was no time for a translator to argue. Mitigation, however, was a reasonable tactic. “Aiji-ma, Sabin-aiji has heard our suspicions regarding Tamun and received assurances from me and Gin-aiji that we have not arranged a coup of our own. She addresses you with an untranslatable term sometimes meaning extreme disrepute, sometimes indicating respect for an opponent.”
Ilisidi’s mouth drew down in wicked satisfaction. “Return the compliment, paidhi.”
“Captain, she says you’re a right damn bastard, too.”

Baudolino by Umberto Eco

For Garrett

1. Chapter Structure: without some cheap cliffhanger endings, he keeps it moving well and quickly. How? Each chapter is a sort of short story, and something interesting happens in each. But I don't think the titles can be undersold: they're slightly spoiler-ish, slightly funny, and all while beautifully satirizing Biblical interstitial titles, which are dumb. Because of the narrator himself, some chapters fly by while others more slowly examine something perplexing.

2. Honesty: Baudolino doesn't understand the meaning of his life story and neither does Eco. Until Baudolino understands at the end, the book lets in little light. It's confusing when Budolino is confused and clear when he has clarity. This is fun! But it turns off most of my friends to this novel.

3. At its base, this book is a combination of a medieval travelogue and dialogue. This is intriguing and well realized. It's a nontraditional dialogue, sure, but it works. Neko (Pictured Above) with his wealth, his power, and Baudolino with his love, his power. Neko with seeing the forest, Baudolino with examining every tree. I don't think it lacks movement at any point.

4. Foreshadowing: Eco is a master of this here. From slipping in his father's death at the start, to every chapter's title, to little mentions and hints of the journey Budolino takes, the foreshadowing helps make this book run. It keeps the reader excited for what's coming next.

5. Characterization: Frederick is wrathful and loving both, but the rest, well, they're not explicitly described at almost any point. I'm thinking mainly of Neko and Baudolino. We slowly understand that Baudolino is childish, trusting, and sort of going through the motions of life. Not listless, per say, but perhaps not as addicted to long-term goals and dreams as others. Even his project of discerning his story is forgotten by him for 40 plus years after he tries just ten pages. His big character arc is really tied up with this, so by the end he has goals and follows them. Neko on the other hand, is a wealthy, powerful member of court, and values the finer things of life. He's addicted to his culture. Through and through he finds meaning in keeping things as they are. Today he would be really into sustainability. By the end, neither of their reactions are surprising because Eco does a great job of defining them by showing rather than telling. The secondary characters are more told, but this works for them because they are not central to the novel.

6. The End: Baudolino glimpses meaning to his life—his service to those around him—then goes off to pursue that, first as a stylite outsider dispensing wisdom and sense, then as a father trying to find his daughter again. He also wants his story told as a sort of text to learn from; in other words, he wants to serve the world through their memory of him as well. He is horrified by learning that he drowned his father, and wants to continue helping people—it becomes his obsession. Though it really was all along, he finally realizes it.