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Universe of Xuya
On a Red Station, Drifting
For generations Prosper Station has thrived under the guidance of its Honoured Ancestress: born of a human womb, the station’s artificial intelligence has offered guidance and protection to its human relatives.
But war has come to the Dai Viet Empire. Prosper’s brightest minds have been called away to defend the Emperor; and a flood of disorientated refugees strain the station’s resources. As deprivations cause the station’s ordinary life to unravel, uncovering old grudges and tearing apart the decimated family, Station Mistress Quyen and the Honoured Ancestress struggle to keep their relatives united and safe.
What Quyen does not know is that the Honoured Ancestress herself is faltering, her mind eaten away by a disease that seems to have no cure; and that the future of the station itself might hang in the balance…
But war has come to the Dai Viet Empire. Prosper’s brightest minds have been called away to defend the Emperor; and a flood of disorientated refugees strain the station’s resources. As deprivations cause the station’s ordinary life to unravel, uncovering old grudges and tearing apart the decimated family, Station Mistress Quyen and the Honoured Ancestress struggle to keep their relatives united and safe.
What Quyen does not know is that the Honoured Ancestress herself is faltering, her mind eaten away by a disease that seems to have no cure; and that the future of the station itself might hang in the balance…
106 pages, Hardcover
First published December 24, 2012
151 people are currently reading
3178 people want to read
About the author
Aliette de Bodard
265 books2,233 followersAliette de Bodard lives and works in Paris. She has won three Nebula Awards, an Ignyte Award, a Locus Award, a British Fantasy Award and four British Science Fiction Association Awards, and was a double Hugo finalist for 2019 (Best Series and Best Novella).
Her most recent book is Fireheart Tiger (Tor.com), a sapphic romantic fantasy inspired by pre colonial Vietnam, where a diplomat princess must decide the fate of her country, and her own. She also wrote Seven of Infinities (Subterranean Press), a space opera where a sentient spaceship and an upright scholar join forces to investigate a murder, and find themselves falling for each other. Other books include Of Dragons, Feasts and Murders and its standalone sequel Of Charms, Ghosts and Grievances, (JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.), fantasy books of manners and murders set in an alternate 19th Century Vietnamese court. She lives in Paris.
Her most recent book is Fireheart Tiger (Tor.com), a sapphic romantic fantasy inspired by pre colonial Vietnam, where a diplomat princess must decide the fate of her country, and her own. She also wrote Seven of Infinities (Subterranean Press), a space opera where a sentient spaceship and an upright scholar join forces to investigate a murder, and find themselves falling for each other. Other books include Of Dragons, Feasts and Murders and its standalone sequel Of Charms, Ghosts and Grievances, (JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.), fantasy books of manners and murders set in an alternate 19th Century Vietnamese court. She lives in Paris.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 378 reviews
July 13, 2017
This is another entry in this author's Xuya universe series which is an alternate history where China discovered the Americas and moved on to an interstellar empire which features other South-East Asian cultures prominently, and notably the Dai Viet used here.
The empire is in a state of turmoil with a weak Emperor and rebellions springing up all over outlying planets. When a Lê Thi Linh, a magistrate of one of the planets threatened by rebellion, sends a blunt message to the Emperor regarding his inaction, she has to seek refuge with family on a Space Station in deep space. The station is a tense place facing difficult times. Many of the leading family's husbands and wives are away at war, possibly never to return, which is placing everyone under stress. The administrator of the station, Lê Thi Quyen, is keeping very tight control over a deteriorating situation including within her own family and she really doesn't need the stress of Linh's arrival on top of the possible deterioration of the station's Mind.
The tense hothouse atmosphere of the station and the almost immediate butting of heads between Linh, an educated respected lady of the Empire, but currently poor and powerless and Quyen, "just a housewife" but with all the power of station administrator makes for a wonderful story of family, sacrifice, obligation and power which feels at once vast and deeply personal.
I really enjoyed this, but maybe not quite as much as an award-winning novellette in this series, The Waiting Stars.
The empire is in a state of turmoil with a weak Emperor and rebellions springing up all over outlying planets. When a Lê Thi Linh, a magistrate of one of the planets threatened by rebellion, sends a blunt message to the Emperor regarding his inaction, she has to seek refuge with family on a Space Station in deep space. The station is a tense place facing difficult times. Many of the leading family's husbands and wives are away at war, possibly never to return, which is placing everyone under stress. The administrator of the station, Lê Thi Quyen, is keeping very tight control over a deteriorating situation including within her own family and she really doesn't need the stress of Linh's arrival on top of the possible deterioration of the station's Mind.
The tense hothouse atmosphere of the station and the almost immediate butting of heads between Linh, an educated respected lady of the Empire, but currently poor and powerless and Quyen, "just a housewife" but with all the power of station administrator makes for a wonderful story of family, sacrifice, obligation and power which feels at once vast and deeply personal.
I really enjoyed this, but maybe not quite as much as an award-winning novellette in this series, The Waiting Stars.
March 23, 2013
Original review posted over at the Kirkus blog
On a Red Station, Drifting is a science fiction novella by Aliette de Bodard, and its recent nomination for Best Novella in the 2012 Nebula Awards put it on my radar. I'm glad, since this proved to be a remarkable read.
At first glance, one can see familiar science fiction trappings in its setting and basic premise: At some point in the future, Prosper Space Station is at a crossroads point of its long existence. Its resources are depleted as one of the consequences of an ongoing war, its greatest minds called away to join the fight for the Dai Viet Empire. Worst of all, its artificial intelligence, the Honoured Ancestress, once the mind that connected everyone and offered guidance and protection, is now faltering, ailing and wilting away to unpredictable results.
This familiar setting is just a departure point from which to deeply explore aspects of this imagined future in meaningful ways that combine the private and the public. The excellence here comes from the realm this novella chooses to concern itself with, as well its narrative focus. The former relates to family, tradition and ancestry and how they affect people's lives. Everyone in Prosper Station is related and interconnected both by blood and by the AI’s always present company. To some, this is a positive aspect that offers comfort. To others, it’s a prison that is worth questioning. Ancestry is so important as to be literal, real: To those who are worthy, there are mem-implants of their Ancestors offering guidance and counsel. The more mem-implants one has, the greater the individual.
Of course, the question of what exactly makes one worthy is central to this story. In this version of the future, people are tested for their abilities; those who fail these tests are forever branded as lesser beings, unable to have mem-implants of their Ancestors, often saddled in marriages against their will to greater partners and discriminated against what is perceived as lack of achievement. Interestingly, gender plays no role in this: Lesser and greater partners can be either male or female and a great number of lesser people left behind on Prosper Station are actually male (their greater wives off to war).
These social, cultural, historical strands are examined closer—privately, personally—in the lives of two women, the two main characters that share the narrative focus: Station Mistress Quyen and her distant cousin, a visiting Magistrate named Linh. Linh is an educated official, used to exert power, who shares her mind with several mem-implants of her Ancestors. Her arrival at Prosper Station is what sets things in motion—the reasons for her coming there are a matter of life and death. Quyen effectively runs the Station but, as a lesser individual, she is burdened by her own sense of inferiority which shapes her interactions with most people. Quyen is the only one who truly understands what the Honoured Ancestress’ ailment really means to Prosper.
These two characters are believable, incredibly strong female characters whose strengths lie in how their characterisation allows them to be complex, flawed individuals. Their interactions are fraught with tension and miscommunication stemming from their different sense of self-worth. And each woman’s arc eventually leads her to make choices, those choices a balance of questioning and acceptance.
This is an extremely political story in every sense of the word: on a macro scale of fighting for one’s beliefs in impossible situations and within the microcosm of the domestic, the individual—this dichotomy not really a dichotomy at all, as the micro and macro often intertwine in an inextricable tangle.
This is a beautifully realized story and the characters, plot, theme and writing are expertly crafted. My one regret is that I did not read it before we sent out our Hugo Award Nominations.
…And then, one day in the not so distant future, once On a Red Station, Drifting inevitably becomes the SciFi classic it’s meant to be, we can all look back and remember this horrendous cover with fondness. Maybe.
On a Red Station, Drifting is a science fiction novella by Aliette de Bodard, and its recent nomination for Best Novella in the 2012 Nebula Awards put it on my radar. I'm glad, since this proved to be a remarkable read.
At first glance, one can see familiar science fiction trappings in its setting and basic premise: At some point in the future, Prosper Space Station is at a crossroads point of its long existence. Its resources are depleted as one of the consequences of an ongoing war, its greatest minds called away to join the fight for the Dai Viet Empire. Worst of all, its artificial intelligence, the Honoured Ancestress, once the mind that connected everyone and offered guidance and protection, is now faltering, ailing and wilting away to unpredictable results.
This familiar setting is just a departure point from which to deeply explore aspects of this imagined future in meaningful ways that combine the private and the public. The excellence here comes from the realm this novella chooses to concern itself with, as well its narrative focus. The former relates to family, tradition and ancestry and how they affect people's lives. Everyone in Prosper Station is related and interconnected both by blood and by the AI’s always present company. To some, this is a positive aspect that offers comfort. To others, it’s a prison that is worth questioning. Ancestry is so important as to be literal, real: To those who are worthy, there are mem-implants of their Ancestors offering guidance and counsel. The more mem-implants one has, the greater the individual.
Of course, the question of what exactly makes one worthy is central to this story. In this version of the future, people are tested for their abilities; those who fail these tests are forever branded as lesser beings, unable to have mem-implants of their Ancestors, often saddled in marriages against their will to greater partners and discriminated against what is perceived as lack of achievement. Interestingly, gender plays no role in this: Lesser and greater partners can be either male or female and a great number of lesser people left behind on Prosper Station are actually male (their greater wives off to war).
These social, cultural, historical strands are examined closer—privately, personally—in the lives of two women, the two main characters that share the narrative focus: Station Mistress Quyen and her distant cousin, a visiting Magistrate named Linh. Linh is an educated official, used to exert power, who shares her mind with several mem-implants of her Ancestors. Her arrival at Prosper Station is what sets things in motion—the reasons for her coming there are a matter of life and death. Quyen effectively runs the Station but, as a lesser individual, she is burdened by her own sense of inferiority which shapes her interactions with most people. Quyen is the only one who truly understands what the Honoured Ancestress’ ailment really means to Prosper.
These two characters are believable, incredibly strong female characters whose strengths lie in how their characterisation allows them to be complex, flawed individuals. Their interactions are fraught with tension and miscommunication stemming from their different sense of self-worth. And each woman’s arc eventually leads her to make choices, those choices a balance of questioning and acceptance.
This is an extremely political story in every sense of the word: on a macro scale of fighting for one’s beliefs in impossible situations and within the microcosm of the domestic, the individual—this dichotomy not really a dichotomy at all, as the micro and macro often intertwine in an inextricable tangle.
This is a beautifully realized story and the characters, plot, theme and writing are expertly crafted. My one regret is that I did not read it before we sent out our Hugo Award Nominations.
…And then, one day in the not so distant future, once On a Red Station, Drifting inevitably becomes the SciFi classic it’s meant to be, we can all look back and remember this horrendous cover with fondness. Maybe.
December 16, 2020
This is my first De Bodard and I will definitely continue. I'm so intriguiged by the entire Xuya universe that De Bodard has created. Click HERE to see the sheer size of the author's overview. And the fact that they were published in many different publications over the years adds to the mystery, like an advent calendar in series form.
As one of the longer works in the universe it was a good intro in the Vietnamese inspired empire. I was very interested in the way technology had evolved within their culture. It managed to feel very traditional even though it was set on a sentient space station. The world was richly realized and the characters quickly came alive, warts and all. Overall, a strong start. My one criticism is I thought the dialogue was imbalanced. A focus on inner, rather than outer dialogue made it drag in some parts.
3.75 promising stars
artist: Jing Wei
As one of the longer works in the universe it was a good intro in the Vietnamese inspired empire. I was very interested in the way technology had evolved within their culture. It managed to feel very traditional even though it was set on a sentient space station. The world was richly realized and the characters quickly came alive, warts and all. Overall, a strong start. My one criticism is I thought the dialogue was imbalanced. A focus on inner, rather than outer dialogue made it drag in some parts.
3.75 promising stars
artist: Jing Wei
Read
July 20, 2018A weird, melancholy tale of decline, war, trauma, and human flaws of the worst kind, ie the ones that are the flip side of virtues. Lady Linh has torpedoed her soaraway career by writing a memo to spur the useless Emperor into action to fight a war. She's now a refugee with distant relatives including her cousin Quyen. Linh is traumatised at her war losses and deeply bitter, knowing she could be doing or have done so much more. Quyen runs the station but is so consumed with her own insecurities and social inferiority that she makes unforced errors. The two women clash brutally; meanwhile the Mind that runs the station is going senile. It's intense and compelling stuff with people getting things terribly wrong through obstinacy, resentment, misery, being trapped in the amber of a stratified society, or all of the above, and just flickers of hope and connection to guide us through.
Vividly written, set in the wonderfully conceived elaborate Vietnamese-analogous Xuya universe. This is such good stuff.
Vividly written, set in the wonderfully conceived elaborate Vietnamese-analogous Xuya universe. This is such good stuff.
March 1, 2025
Ok, I am a total Aliette de Bodard fan girl now. I've been reading through her Xuya universe short stories over the last couple weeks, which I am learning really deepens my enjoyment and appreciation of her longer works. I am blown away by the gorgeously detailed universe she has created, and even more so by the complex characters inhabiting that universe. Linh and Quyen are painfully, humanly flawed, and as a reader, I deeply sympathized with both. Their story, like many by this author, is a beautiful blend of heartbreaking and hopeful. I loved it all.
April 16, 2019
Alrighty... Well, here we are and I'm trying to figure out how to review my 4th DNF of the year. It's April. This book, or novella, or whatever, was 106 pages. Sheesh. I'm on a roll, but trying HARD to not let these books that I'm just not into grind me into a slump, so I'm quitting them when I feel it coming on. I banish thee, Slump-Bringer!
Anyway... this book, or novella, or story, or whatever, wasn't BAD. Hence the 2 star rating, but I just couldn't track the cultural nuances, and found that I didn't really care to, either. I think, had the characters really grabbed me, then it would have been easy, and I would have wanted to continue with no problem, but as it was, nothing about it worked for me.
The premise was interesting - a biologically-born but AI "mind" that controls and monitors every aspect of the station, and implants with the essences of one's ancestors, and what happens when they get out of control or lost... But, of the nearly 40% of the story that I read, those things were such a tiny portion of the story, that it was practically unimportant. So much more time and effort was put into the personality clash between two arrogant women who were nasty to each other for... reasons...?
And this is where everything broke down for me. Because, fine, I can deal with just not liking someone and being shitty to them because of that. Fine. It's lazy writing, but I can identify with it. But HERE, there's all of this uber-important cultural nuance behind every single word, gesture, euphemism, and glance that I felt I was missing SO MUCH of the motivation for these characters.
I like to consider myself to be an open-minded sort who is willing to learn about other cultures. It wasn't that I didn't want to understand... but I felt that the focus of this story was all wrong, and there wasn't enough to bring me into the loop of such a very different culture. We're plopped into the middle of it on page one, and supposed to just keep up, with no real context or explanation. A single paragraph of history recap would have done wonders for me. But just expecting me to accept this haughty rudeness and class condescension, without explanation, in a sci-fi story set sometime in the future where people are supposed to learn and grow and benefit from the experience of LIFETIMES of ancestors before them... I just can't, and don't care to. Show me how it benefits THIS society to have a caste system, or show me how it doesn't, and that's the problem, and I'll go along happily. But this... nah.
I wanted to like this, and I will admit that it was well-written as far as sentence structure and such go, but I just didn't much care for the actual story.
Anyway... this book, or novella, or story, or whatever, wasn't BAD. Hence the 2 star rating, but I just couldn't track the cultural nuances, and found that I didn't really care to, either. I think, had the characters really grabbed me, then it would have been easy, and I would have wanted to continue with no problem, but as it was, nothing about it worked for me.
The premise was interesting - a biologically-born but AI "mind" that controls and monitors every aspect of the station, and implants with the essences of one's ancestors, and what happens when they get out of control or lost... But, of the nearly 40% of the story that I read, those things were such a tiny portion of the story, that it was practically unimportant. So much more time and effort was put into the personality clash between two arrogant women who were nasty to each other for... reasons...?
And this is where everything broke down for me. Because, fine, I can deal with just not liking someone and being shitty to them because of that. Fine. It's lazy writing, but I can identify with it. But HERE, there's all of this uber-important cultural nuance behind every single word, gesture, euphemism, and glance that I felt I was missing SO MUCH of the motivation for these characters.
I like to consider myself to be an open-minded sort who is willing to learn about other cultures. It wasn't that I didn't want to understand... but I felt that the focus of this story was all wrong, and there wasn't enough to bring me into the loop of such a very different culture. We're plopped into the middle of it on page one, and supposed to just keep up, with no real context or explanation. A single paragraph of history recap would have done wonders for me. But just expecting me to accept this haughty rudeness and class condescension, without explanation, in a sci-fi story set sometime in the future where people are supposed to learn and grow and benefit from the experience of LIFETIMES of ancestors before them... I just can't, and don't care to. Show me how it benefits THIS society to have a caste system, or show me how it doesn't, and that's the problem, and I'll go along happily. But this... nah.
I wanted to like this, and I will admit that it was well-written as far as sentence structure and such go, but I just didn't much care for the actual story.
April 3, 2019
My second reading of this novella wasn't quite as successful as the first, but it was well worth another look despite some flaws sticking out a little more.
Some details had been lost in the intervening years, and made the return visit a nice combination of the old and the renewed: Linh's relationship with the disgraced and alienated Huu Hieu, the delicious-sounding food, the fractures and sometimes-forced loyalties that come of being in a large political family.
I can easily see myself rereading this again in a few years.
(Previous review is below.)
*
What a neat little SF story. The extended family at its center has tensions that are small in scale but also affect, and are affected by, much larger conflicts that stay entirely in the background.
Misunderstandings, omissions deliberate and accidental, differences in social standing, resentment, even spite, drive an irremovable wedge between our two main characters, both women: Quyen, the administrator of Prosper Station where the story is set, and her distant cousin Linh, a magistrate who has fled to Prosper when rebels against the Da Viet Empire attack her posting. There is no good, no evil here, and no neat tying up of bows at the end.
There are a few too many similes and some grammar errors, but they don't detract too much from this novella. Both the societal setting and the heart of the story are refreshingly outside the typical, and I'd love to see more stories like this that bring new flavors to genre's table.
Unfortunately it's only available in a hardcover that's somewhat expensive for its length. Recommended nevertheless.
Some details had been lost in the intervening years, and made the return visit a nice combination of the old and the renewed: Linh's relationship with the disgraced and alienated Huu Hieu, the delicious-sounding food, the fractures and sometimes-forced loyalties that come of being in a large political family.
I can easily see myself rereading this again in a few years.
(Previous review is below.)
*
What a neat little SF story. The extended family at its center has tensions that are small in scale but also affect, and are affected by, much larger conflicts that stay entirely in the background.
Misunderstandings, omissions deliberate and accidental, differences in social standing, resentment, even spite, drive an irremovable wedge between our two main characters, both women: Quyen, the administrator of Prosper Station where the story is set, and her distant cousin Linh, a magistrate who has fled to Prosper when rebels against the Da Viet Empire attack her posting. There is no good, no evil here, and no neat tying up of bows at the end.
There are a few too many similes and some grammar errors, but they don't detract too much from this novella. Both the societal setting and the heart of the story are refreshingly outside the typical, and I'd love to see more stories like this that bring new flavors to genre's table.
Unfortunately it's only available in a hardcover that's somewhat expensive for its length. Recommended nevertheless.
October 29, 2020
This was... an interesting read. And I have some thoughts.
* * * * *
It's been over two weeks now and I still don't know how to process this book.
Interesting. Unique. One of a kind. There's nothing else out there like it because there is literally nothing out there about Viet history and culture set in the distant future. And in space!
But on the other hand, I didn't enjoy the read as much as I thought I would, and I'm still trying to figure out why. Still trying to unsuccessfully process my thoughts which are overrun by nitpicky, too overly critical critiques. So I've been asking myself why am I so hard on this little novella when I've let so many other lesser, weaker works skate by?
I don't know.
Maybe it's because this one hits too close to home.
* * * * *
It's been over two weeks now and I still don't know how to process this book.
Interesting. Unique. One of a kind. There's nothing else out there like it because there is literally nothing out there about Viet history and culture set in the distant future. And in space!
But on the other hand, I didn't enjoy the read as much as I thought I would, and I'm still trying to figure out why. Still trying to unsuccessfully process my thoughts which are overrun by nitpicky, too overly critical critiques. So I've been asking myself why am I so hard on this little novella when I've let so many other lesser, weaker works skate by?
I don't know.
Maybe it's because this one hits too close to home.
March 31, 2025
Wow that ending hit me pretty hard, with misty eyes, and sold me so much on reading a lot more de Bodard in the future! It felt a lot more mature than Fireheart Tiger, it had no romance, even if the two main characters are women who rather hate each other without maybe ever giving each other a chance to like... get along. The worldbuilding was super interesting, the mem implants with the ancestors were great (both in plot and theme), and for such a short length, it felt very complex in the dynamics it set up - and as I've already said, followed through on, splendidly. Also: a lot of poetry drama, which can never not be a plus for me!
[Really liked the audiobook narator as well, her intonation felt just a tad alien and removed, in a good way]
[Really liked the audiobook narator as well, her intonation felt just a tad alien and removed, in a good way]
January 17, 2019
This is my first Aliette de Bodard and I’m a fan. She’s created a fascinating, delicate and beautiful silkpunk universe, mixing scifi with Viet tradition and folklore. As with JY Yang’s Tensorate series, I’m deeply fascinated with this particular style. I’ve always loved mythology from all over the world, and for me it brings depth to other genres, like horror and fantasy and now also science fiction. I’m so glad to have found this particular niche and the Xuya universe!
July 9, 2013
I need to give a shout-out to fellow reviewer Rob here, because I feel like I know Aliette de Bodard’s work mostly through him. I have quite a fair bit of her fiction knocking around in ebook form (thanks, Angry Robot), but I haven’t actually gotten around to reading much of it. So far I’ve only managed those stories nominated for Hugo Awards—and hey, look, another one. But seriously, if you want to get the scoop on de Bodard’s other universes, you should check out Rob’s reviews.
On a Red Station, Drifting is set in the same universe as de Bodard’s other Hugo nominee for 2013, the short story “Immersion”. I really liked how de Bodard captures the viral nature of colonialism in “Immersion”. The Galactics’ immersers are so entrenched in the Galactic culture and way of thinking that one has to think like a Galactic before one can reverse engineer them. Of course, that kind of assimilation is exactly what the Rong who would reverse engineer the technology are trying to avoid. Whereas “Immersion” is set on Longevity Station, this novella takes place on Prosper Station, at an unspecified time. The Dai Viet Empire crumbles from a rebellion, and a disgraced magistrate, Linh, flees to her relatives on Prosper Station, running from the crime of pointing out that the emperor has no clothes.
Linh finds a station in the disorganized grip of Quyen, who is unable to summon the authority and drive necessary to keep things running smoothly. Quyen is trying to cope even as she clings to the fantasy that her husband will return from going to quell the rebellion. Others are in similar straits; the mood is comparable, I imagine to places far behind the front lines in Europe in World War II that have seen their best and bravest go off to fight. It doesn’t help that the Mind running the station, referred to only as Honoured Ancestress, appears to be malfunctioning in some way. So, Linh has arrived at a terrible time. She makes and awful first impression, and she soon finds she doesn’t fit in. She is too cultured for such a provincial atmosphere, and her boredom makes her sullen and rude.
This is a story of character and grace. It’s subtle, in the sense that the plot simmers in the background while de Bodard spends most of her time fleshing out the main characters and placing them on her chess board. It’s obvious, in the sense that there is very little left ambiguous: it’s clear that Quyen hates Linh, and Linh is simultaneously attracted to and repulsed by Huu Hieu. If this were a movie, a lot of it would take place without a score, just the characters speaking against a backdrop of silence. There is a stillness to this story that is at times unbearable, because you just start waiting for something to happen. This is not a critique against plot, mind you, but an observation of how de Bodard chooses to build tension.
When external forces prompt Linh and Quyen to action, the conflict seems inevitable, given the way honour and family play a huge role in this culture. Quyen must act a certain way towards Linh for the good of the family. Linh, similarly, makes choices that go against her preferences just so she can avoid tearing the family apart. It raises the question of what would have happened had Linh not been so strong—if she had succumbed to her childish impulses to take the family down with her, where would we be? Perhaps this is a subtle comment on de Bodard’s part about the fragility of such an honour-based system: it can only be as strong as the weakest link. There are echoes of this fragility in Linh’s criticism of the emperor: everyone around him his frozen into inaction by his unwillingness to engage with the rebels directly. The authoritarian nature of the culture means that everyone defers to the emperor, even though he might be wrong.
All these critiques seem to lurk below the surface of the story, though. Overall, On a Red Station, Drifting really seems to be about Linh’s personal sense of loss and lack of direction. Her life is, if not literally, then figuratively over. In a way, her decision at the end of the story is inevitable, because it is the best way for her to gain some form of closure. Unlike another option for closure (suicide), this way also offers the hope of further combat with her enemies. Linh is someone who likes to take action, to be constantly engaged in combat or conversation. She is ill-suited to life on Prosper Station; both she and Quyen recognize that from the start, but it takes a while for them to figure out how to solve it.
This novella didn’t affect me as strongly as The Emperor’s Soul, but it’s still quite good. I think it’s more a case that it showcases the intricacy of de Bodard’s writing than anything about the story in particular. There are so many layers here that combine to form a particularly pleasing whole, even though, when pulled back piece by piece for further examination, they appear diaphanous and less compelling. More than meets the eye but better in one big piece, On a Red Station, Drifting is another exquisite entry in this year’s Hugo nominees for best novella.
On a Red Station, Drifting is set in the same universe as de Bodard’s other Hugo nominee for 2013, the short story “Immersion”. I really liked how de Bodard captures the viral nature of colonialism in “Immersion”. The Galactics’ immersers are so entrenched in the Galactic culture and way of thinking that one has to think like a Galactic before one can reverse engineer them. Of course, that kind of assimilation is exactly what the Rong who would reverse engineer the technology are trying to avoid. Whereas “Immersion” is set on Longevity Station, this novella takes place on Prosper Station, at an unspecified time. The Dai Viet Empire crumbles from a rebellion, and a disgraced magistrate, Linh, flees to her relatives on Prosper Station, running from the crime of pointing out that the emperor has no clothes.
Linh finds a station in the disorganized grip of Quyen, who is unable to summon the authority and drive necessary to keep things running smoothly. Quyen is trying to cope even as she clings to the fantasy that her husband will return from going to quell the rebellion. Others are in similar straits; the mood is comparable, I imagine to places far behind the front lines in Europe in World War II that have seen their best and bravest go off to fight. It doesn’t help that the Mind running the station, referred to only as Honoured Ancestress, appears to be malfunctioning in some way. So, Linh has arrived at a terrible time. She makes and awful first impression, and she soon finds she doesn’t fit in. She is too cultured for such a provincial atmosphere, and her boredom makes her sullen and rude.
This is a story of character and grace. It’s subtle, in the sense that the plot simmers in the background while de Bodard spends most of her time fleshing out the main characters and placing them on her chess board. It’s obvious, in the sense that there is very little left ambiguous: it’s clear that Quyen hates Linh, and Linh is simultaneously attracted to and repulsed by Huu Hieu. If this were a movie, a lot of it would take place without a score, just the characters speaking against a backdrop of silence. There is a stillness to this story that is at times unbearable, because you just start waiting for something to happen. This is not a critique against plot, mind you, but an observation of how de Bodard chooses to build tension.
When external forces prompt Linh and Quyen to action, the conflict seems inevitable, given the way honour and family play a huge role in this culture. Quyen must act a certain way towards Linh for the good of the family. Linh, similarly, makes choices that go against her preferences just so she can avoid tearing the family apart. It raises the question of what would have happened had Linh not been so strong—if she had succumbed to her childish impulses to take the family down with her, where would we be? Perhaps this is a subtle comment on de Bodard’s part about the fragility of such an honour-based system: it can only be as strong as the weakest link. There are echoes of this fragility in Linh’s criticism of the emperor: everyone around him his frozen into inaction by his unwillingness to engage with the rebels directly. The authoritarian nature of the culture means that everyone defers to the emperor, even though he might be wrong.
All these critiques seem to lurk below the surface of the story, though. Overall, On a Red Station, Drifting really seems to be about Linh’s personal sense of loss and lack of direction. Her life is, if not literally, then figuratively over. In a way, her decision at the end of the story is inevitable, because it is the best way for her to gain some form of closure. Unlike another option for closure (suicide), this way also offers the hope of further combat with her enemies. Linh is someone who likes to take action, to be constantly engaged in combat or conversation. She is ill-suited to life on Prosper Station; both she and Quyen recognize that from the start, but it takes a while for them to figure out how to solve it.
This novella didn’t affect me as strongly as The Emperor’s Soul, but it’s still quite good. I think it’s more a case that it showcases the intricacy of de Bodard’s writing than anything about the story in particular. There are so many layers here that combine to form a particularly pleasing whole, even though, when pulled back piece by piece for further examination, they appear diaphanous and less compelling. More than meets the eye but better in one big piece, On a Red Station, Drifting is another exquisite entry in this year’s Hugo nominees for best novella.
September 7, 2021
3.5 Stars
This was a beautifully written sci fi novella with some interesting world building and diverse cultural elements. On first read through, the plot did not completely grab my attention but I suspect this is the kind of story I will come to love with future rereads.
This was a beautifully written sci fi novella with some interesting world building and diverse cultural elements. On first read through, the plot did not completely grab my attention but I suspect this is the kind of story I will come to love with future rereads.
February 23, 2025
First line:
Linh arrived on Prosper Station blown by the winds of war, amidst a ship full of refugees who huddled together, speaking tearfully of the invading armies: the war between the rebel lords and the Empire had escalated, and their war-kites had laid waste to entire planets.
Nominated for multiple industry awards, "On a Red Station, Drifting" is worthy indeed of the accolades it's received. Brilliant Vietnamese-tinged space opera filled with an empire at war with rebellious generals, sentient space stations that house the memories of revered ancestors, and poet-administrators gifted with ancestor implants. The characters are complex, the plot is intricate, and there are apparently many, many short stories that work together to create this elaborate universe.
I'm beyond pleased to have found this author. Very recommended.
Second read, 23 February 2025
Just as powerful as before, but perhaps even better, as now I am much more familiar with Bodard's style of writing, her character relationships, and her sense of wonder and grief and familial piety that seems to infuse everything she writes, whether it's a magical Paris or a futuristic Viet society in space. This is a great novella to start her Universe of Xuya stories.
Linh arrived on Prosper Station blown by the winds of war, amidst a ship full of refugees who huddled together, speaking tearfully of the invading armies: the war between the rebel lords and the Empire had escalated, and their war-kites had laid waste to entire planets.
Nominated for multiple industry awards, "On a Red Station, Drifting" is worthy indeed of the accolades it's received. Brilliant Vietnamese-tinged space opera filled with an empire at war with rebellious generals, sentient space stations that house the memories of revered ancestors, and poet-administrators gifted with ancestor implants. The characters are complex, the plot is intricate, and there are apparently many, many short stories that work together to create this elaborate universe.
I'm beyond pleased to have found this author. Very recommended.
Second read, 23 February 2025
Just as powerful as before, but perhaps even better, as now I am much more familiar with Bodard's style of writing, her character relationships, and her sense of wonder and grief and familial piety that seems to infuse everything she writes, whether it's a magical Paris or a futuristic Viet society in space. This is a great novella to start her Universe of Xuya stories.
April 15, 2020
This is an aspiring piece of sci-fi litfic. Aliette de Bodard is a stylist who seeks to evoke sights and sounds and smells and cultural cues with her prose, and it is very evocative. On a Red Station, Drifting is set in her "Xuya" universe, an alt history space operatic setting in which Asian and Aztec cultures became technologically dominant and went into space, instead of the West. Previously I have only read her Hugo-nominated short story The Waiting Stars, set in the same universe.
Here, Vietnam became a galactic empire, and unlike in that aforementioned short story, there are no allegories for Western colonialism here — in fact, there are no Westerners. On a Red Station, Drifting is set on the space station of Prosper, implied to be tucked away in an obscure backwater corner of the Dai Viet Empire. Quyen is mistress of the station, responsible for its administration, and its resources are being strained by refugees arriving as a result of an ongoing civil war.
One of these refugees is Linh, who was once a planet's Magistrate and a distant cousin of Quyen's. Being both family (albeit many times removed) and a high-ranked official, Linh is grudgingly given a place by Quyen, but the women immediately do not get along. Linh thinks being made a nanny by a "provincial housewife" is beneath her, while Quyen finds Linh arrogant and ungrateful.
Amidst a lot of other intrigue involving stolen memory implants, the station's AI failing, and the distant but not distant enough rebellion against the Emperor, On a Red Station, Drifting is mostly Quyen and Linh fuming about what a bitch the other one is.
I enjoyed this story, which is very space opera and also very soap opera. A Vietnamese Galactic Empire is certainly not a trope you see a lot in science fiction, and Aliette de Bodard draws heavily on tradition, family relationships, and the complex status games of her imagined space-Vietnamese culture. But there is very little action in the story — the climax involves Linh composing a vengeful poem at a banquet for a visiting official, while the resolution, with implied danger and the threat of expurgation of everyone on the station ("wiping out ten generations for the bad thing one person did" seems to still be a thing in Space Vietnam) ends with Linh and Quyen hugging it out. Okay, there's no hugging. More like an exchange of carefully composed steely gazes with just a hint of sympathy as they say their final goodbye.
Flavorful, colorful, a slice of literary SF that was enjoyable but didn't really make me that interested in the Xuya universe, as interesting as it sounds in concept.
Here, Vietnam became a galactic empire, and unlike in that aforementioned short story, there are no allegories for Western colonialism here — in fact, there are no Westerners. On a Red Station, Drifting is set on the space station of Prosper, implied to be tucked away in an obscure backwater corner of the Dai Viet Empire. Quyen is mistress of the station, responsible for its administration, and its resources are being strained by refugees arriving as a result of an ongoing civil war.
One of these refugees is Linh, who was once a planet's Magistrate and a distant cousin of Quyen's. Being both family (albeit many times removed) and a high-ranked official, Linh is grudgingly given a place by Quyen, but the women immediately do not get along. Linh thinks being made a nanny by a "provincial housewife" is beneath her, while Quyen finds Linh arrogant and ungrateful.
Amidst a lot of other intrigue involving stolen memory implants, the station's AI failing, and the distant but not distant enough rebellion against the Emperor, On a Red Station, Drifting is mostly Quyen and Linh fuming about what a bitch the other one is.
I enjoyed this story, which is very space opera and also very soap opera. A Vietnamese Galactic Empire is certainly not a trope you see a lot in science fiction, and Aliette de Bodard draws heavily on tradition, family relationships, and the complex status games of her imagined space-Vietnamese culture. But there is very little action in the story — the climax involves Linh composing a vengeful poem at a banquet for a visiting official, while the resolution, with implied danger and the threat of expurgation of everyone on the station ("wiping out ten generations for the bad thing one person did" seems to still be a thing in Space Vietnam) ends with Linh and Quyen hugging it out. Okay, there's no hugging. More like an exchange of carefully composed steely gazes with just a hint of sympathy as they say their final goodbye.
Flavorful, colorful, a slice of literary SF that was enjoyable but didn't really make me that interested in the Xuya universe, as interesting as it sounds in concept.
April 29, 2019
3 stars for the sheer beauty of the writing. de Bodard is so lyrical. But de Bodard's writing can be almost too lyrical. Sometimes too much is too much.
All sorts of Spoilers all below.
So. The biggest issue I have with this novella is the culture clash. As in I do not completely understand the culture and therefore missed/misunderstood/did not get a lot of the subtleties of the family’s interactions.
Quyen & Linh: To be honest, I do not understand the tension and attitude between Quyen and Linh. Quyen, it feels to me right now, is letting her personal bitterness about her situation spill over onto Linh, causing them to be at odds. She took one look at Linh and decided "I'll show her she's nothing" and the fight was started.
I have to say; I don't get their relationship. I never understood Quyen's attitude. She wanted someone to be humble and therefore caused a lot of drama because Linh "thought too much of herself." At least, that was the opinion I got. I understood more of Linh: she was desperate and sad and felt like she was being treated like shit for no reason. Though I do think she should have been more grateful for the help she received. I think Quyen made an enemy of her instead of an ally.
TBH, I think that Quyen wanted more deference than Linh. It felt like Quyen was upset as soon as she saw how self-possessed Linh was and had a major issue with that. [Quyen] wanted [Linh] begging and bowing. That’s just not Linh’s personality.
I felt Linh had a problem with doing tasks that she knew were assigned to her as an insult. I don’t think that she would have felt that way if she thought she was truly helping. And the station actually needed help.
On the other hand, I don’t think Linh was thankful that the family she didn’t know took her in. She lied to them and knew she could get them in trouble. That was an asshole move. In that aspect alone, I felt Linh needed a low-profile life there.
Honestly, one of the reasons I liked Linh more than the others (none are my faves): why is [Linh} expected to be downtrodden?? The biggest issue I noticed between Quyen and Linh was that Quyen wanted someone who was bowing and scraping and scrabbling. WHY? Why is it so startling and offensive [to Quyen] that Linh isn't bent over with her shoulders hunched? It's like they expect her to act like a beaten dog and when she doesn't... problems.
I think that...I understood what was causing the conflict between Quyen and Linh (mostly. still confused about Huu Hieu's arc with Linh) but I didn't understand them. I didn't get why it was such an affront. Or the knee jerk reactions (all things considered). I know Quyen was jealous but it was OTT. She held all the power in the situation. She was in charge of everyone. The attitude came across as unnecessary if I'm being charitable. Or an indication that Quyen had clear reason TO be jealous because she obviously still was unable to wield her power justly and with thoughtfulness if I'm not being charitable. Maybe she knew she should have given the job to Linh and that was her problem?
Linh shouldn't have lied and Quyen...should stop being so damn jealous of what she doesn't have. She's already running the station.
Honestly, I also didn’t understand the relationship Linh had with the brother in law, or the controversy attached to it. Or why it was such a big deal. Like, I got them being friendly and talking to each other - they both felt the same way about how they were treated. But the rest of it. Her mention that he could only be a lesser marital partner, for example. As if that mattered? But I didn’t get the taboo of them hanging out. Quyen's hostilely towards it was baffling, tbh.
Also, I didn't get the poem. Or why it was so... powerfully terrible. I’m not a big fan of poetry so I don’t get it. I admit I skimmed it. While eye rolling a bit. That weird conversation [between Linh and Huu Hieu] was in some way related to the poem that Linh wrote and the chaos it caused - which was Linh's fault but I blamed Quyen for it. Linh had no clue as to why Quyen asked her to write the poem and had spent all her time being a bitch to Linh. So why would she ask her to do something so important without explaining the importance of it? That’s just stupid.
Honored Ancestress: I wanted more interaction with HA. I felt she...was more window dressing than an actual character. I was expecting more - the other short I read in this universe was centered around the Mind.
I had a major problem with the ending. I didn’t believe that the emperor would ignore all the fighting and death to track down a single critic. Not in the midst of war. And to spend the money to send a crew all the way out there but not help the refugees? Plot requirement because Linh and Quyen’s Relationship was beyond repair. It was too abrupt to mean anything for me.
I felt the HA’s “fix” that knocked out 50 years of data was ONLY for plots and to sort of punish Quyen (via the plot) since Linh was being punished in a different way. I was not a fan.
So, when I go back over my notes from my entire universe read, I'm noticing that a lot of the stories in this series are sad af. In some way or the other.
A triumph here is a decimation there.
I get the whole "thread of sorrow" thingy that Tolkien encouraged and put forth as required...but I admit that it's not particularly fun.
All sorts of Spoilers all below.
So. The biggest issue I have with this novella is the culture clash. As in I do not completely understand the culture and therefore missed/misunderstood/did not get a lot of the subtleties of the family’s interactions.
Quyen & Linh: To be honest, I do not understand the tension and attitude between Quyen and Linh. Quyen, it feels to me right now, is letting her personal bitterness about her situation spill over onto Linh, causing them to be at odds. She took one look at Linh and decided "I'll show her she's nothing" and the fight was started.
I have to say; I don't get their relationship. I never understood Quyen's attitude. She wanted someone to be humble and therefore caused a lot of drama because Linh "thought too much of herself." At least, that was the opinion I got. I understood more of Linh: she was desperate and sad and felt like she was being treated like shit for no reason. Though I do think she should have been more grateful for the help she received. I think Quyen made an enemy of her instead of an ally.
TBH, I think that Quyen wanted more deference than Linh. It felt like Quyen was upset as soon as she saw how self-possessed Linh was and had a major issue with that. [Quyen] wanted [Linh] begging and bowing. That’s just not Linh’s personality.
I felt Linh had a problem with doing tasks that she knew were assigned to her as an insult. I don’t think that she would have felt that way if she thought she was truly helping. And the station actually needed help.
On the other hand, I don’t think Linh was thankful that the family she didn’t know took her in. She lied to them and knew she could get them in trouble. That was an asshole move. In that aspect alone, I felt Linh needed a low-profile life there.
Honestly, one of the reasons I liked Linh more than the others (none are my faves): why is [Linh} expected to be downtrodden?? The biggest issue I noticed between Quyen and Linh was that Quyen wanted someone who was bowing and scraping and scrabbling. WHY? Why is it so startling and offensive [to Quyen] that Linh isn't bent over with her shoulders hunched? It's like they expect her to act like a beaten dog and when she doesn't... problems.
I think that...I understood what was causing the conflict between Quyen and Linh (mostly. still confused about Huu Hieu's arc with Linh) but I didn't understand them. I didn't get why it was such an affront. Or the knee jerk reactions (all things considered). I know Quyen was jealous but it was OTT. She held all the power in the situation. She was in charge of everyone. The attitude came across as unnecessary if I'm being charitable. Or an indication that Quyen had clear reason TO be jealous because she obviously still was unable to wield her power justly and with thoughtfulness if I'm not being charitable. Maybe she knew she should have given the job to Linh and that was her problem?
Linh shouldn't have lied and Quyen...should stop being so damn jealous of what she doesn't have. She's already running the station.
Honestly, I also didn’t understand the relationship Linh had with the brother in law, or the controversy attached to it. Or why it was such a big deal. Like, I got them being friendly and talking to each other - they both felt the same way about how they were treated. But the rest of it. Her mention that he could only be a lesser marital partner, for example. As if that mattered? But I didn’t get the taboo of them hanging out. Quyen's hostilely towards it was baffling, tbh.
Also, I didn't get the poem. Or why it was so... powerfully terrible. I’m not a big fan of poetry so I don’t get it. I admit I skimmed it. While eye rolling a bit. That weird conversation [between Linh and Huu Hieu] was in some way related to the poem that Linh wrote and the chaos it caused - which was Linh's fault but I blamed Quyen for it. Linh had no clue as to why Quyen asked her to write the poem and had spent all her time being a bitch to Linh. So why would she ask her to do something so important without explaining the importance of it? That’s just stupid.
Honored Ancestress: I wanted more interaction with HA. I felt she...was more window dressing than an actual character. I was expecting more - the other short I read in this universe was centered around the Mind.
I had a major problem with the ending. I didn’t believe that the emperor would ignore all the fighting and death to track down a single critic. Not in the midst of war. And to spend the money to send a crew all the way out there but not help the refugees? Plot requirement because Linh and Quyen’s Relationship was beyond repair. It was too abrupt to mean anything for me.
I felt the HA’s “fix” that knocked out 50 years of data was ONLY for plots and to sort of punish Quyen (via the plot) since Linh was being punished in a different way. I was not a fan.
So, when I go back over my notes from my entire universe read, I'm noticing that a lot of the stories in this series are sad af. In some way or the other.
A triumph here is a decimation there.
I get the whole "thread of sorrow" thingy that Tolkien encouraged and put forth as required...but I admit that it's not particularly fun.
November 29, 2021
I have always wanted to read more Xuya universe books but they don’t feel like the binge watching kind - more like stories that need to be contemplated about. That’s why I’m here many months later, reading another novella set in this world.
Another book where I didn’t bother reading the blurb, because I knew I would enjoy it anyways. And enjoy it I did. This is an emotional story of two women - strong in their own right, which kind of sets them on combative paths. Linh is a war refugee, trying to keep down the grief of losing all her friends to rebellion by projecting a more steely persona reminiscent of her previous position as a magistrate. Quyen on the other hand technically doesn’t have accomplishments to her name but after her husband left for war and never returned, she has been the administrator of Prosper station, keeping everything going during difficult times. Both of them very much feel the need to control everything around them and not yield to anyone, so naturally they find themselves butting heads.
But the beauty of the author’s writing is in how she makes us empathize with both the women and everyone else from the family, despite their actions. They can feel a little unyielding and stubborn, but we understand exactly why they are behaving that way. We also get to explore the various forms of grief - grief for being unheard when the empire is collapsing with war and people are dying in droves, grief for the helplessness that one is unable to save anyone, grief for not knowing if one’s loved ones are alive or dead, grief for the grandmotherly AI Mind of the station who may be malfunctioning, grief for a life not led and a love missed, and grief for being unable to be a family. While it’s about grief though, it’s not without its slightly mysterious subplots and a consistent undertone of war and rebellion and worry for the people on various planets and stations. The writing is evocative and emotional, and I couldn’t put it down once I began.
While the author does mention that she derived inspiration from the famous Chinese classic, A Dream of the Red Chamber, but I don’t know enough about it to understand the similarities. However, I loved the nods to Three Kingdoms and the fan favorite Liu Bei, and was feeling pretty proud that I understood the references. On the whole, this was very enjoyable if a bit bittersweet towards the end, but it’s a lovely addition to the Xuya universe and I can’t wait to read more stories.
Another book where I didn’t bother reading the blurb, because I knew I would enjoy it anyways. And enjoy it I did. This is an emotional story of two women - strong in their own right, which kind of sets them on combative paths. Linh is a war refugee, trying to keep down the grief of losing all her friends to rebellion by projecting a more steely persona reminiscent of her previous position as a magistrate. Quyen on the other hand technically doesn’t have accomplishments to her name but after her husband left for war and never returned, she has been the administrator of Prosper station, keeping everything going during difficult times. Both of them very much feel the need to control everything around them and not yield to anyone, so naturally they find themselves butting heads.
But the beauty of the author’s writing is in how she makes us empathize with both the women and everyone else from the family, despite their actions. They can feel a little unyielding and stubborn, but we understand exactly why they are behaving that way. We also get to explore the various forms of grief - grief for being unheard when the empire is collapsing with war and people are dying in droves, grief for the helplessness that one is unable to save anyone, grief for not knowing if one’s loved ones are alive or dead, grief for the grandmotherly AI Mind of the station who may be malfunctioning, grief for a life not led and a love missed, and grief for being unable to be a family. While it’s about grief though, it’s not without its slightly mysterious subplots and a consistent undertone of war and rebellion and worry for the people on various planets and stations. The writing is evocative and emotional, and I couldn’t put it down once I began.
While the author does mention that she derived inspiration from the famous Chinese classic, A Dream of the Red Chamber, but I don’t know enough about it to understand the similarities. However, I loved the nods to Three Kingdoms and the fan favorite Liu Bei, and was feeling pretty proud that I understood the references. On the whole, this was very enjoyable if a bit bittersweet towards the end, but it’s a lovely addition to the Xuya universe and I can’t wait to read more stories.
October 30, 2020
Ahoy there me mateys! I was introduced to the Universe of Xuya in her novella the tea master and the detective. I adored the sentient spaceship and avidly wanted more. So I was super happy to get this story. The biggest problem is that the majority of this series are short stories and not all are easily accessible (give us an omnibus please!). The author's excellent page discussing this world says that:
The site also gives a chronology, background, and links to the Xuya short stories available online.
This tells the stories of two women. The Empire is at war and a magistrate, Lê Thi Linh, spoke against the Emperor. She flees as a refugee to her ancestral station. This station has a sentient Mind. Lê Thi Quyen is the human administrator who helps maintain the station. Familial ties bind the two women but neither likes the other. It would be a bad relationship under normal situations but the Mind seems to be failing even though that should be impossible. With the station about to self-destruct, the family dynamics aren't helping.
This book had a tiny bit of a rough start for me because the tone was so different from what I was expecting. The tea master was intimate in feel. This one was like I was watching from afar. Plus the narrative jumps back and forth between characters and it was slightly hard to adjust. That said, those are minor issues and I still avidly wanted to know what was going on.
I didn't really like either of the two women because they both are obstinate to the detriment of everyone. They were still fun characters even if they are knuckleheads. I adored the world building and politics. There are other familial issues besides the antagonistic relationship of the two main characters. I found the life of the family and their relationships to be fascinating.
The ending was absolutely stunning in how it tied everything together and packed an emotional punch. This wasn't quite a perfect read because of the start but damn did I enjoy it. I can see why it was nominated for the Hugo, Nebula, and Locus in 2013. Arrrr!
The premise of Xuya is that China discovered the Americas before the West, and that the exploration of this new continent prevented China from sinking inwards (not to mention being invaded by the Manchu, who later founded the ill-fated Qing dynasty, China’s last imperial dynasty). Xuya (旴 涯), a Chinese colony founded in the 15th Century in North America, plays a central role in the stories.
The site also gives a chronology, background, and links to the Xuya short stories available online.
This tells the stories of two women. The Empire is at war and a magistrate, Lê Thi Linh, spoke against the Emperor. She flees as a refugee to her ancestral station. This station has a sentient Mind. Lê Thi Quyen is the human administrator who helps maintain the station. Familial ties bind the two women but neither likes the other. It would be a bad relationship under normal situations but the Mind seems to be failing even though that should be impossible. With the station about to self-destruct, the family dynamics aren't helping.
This book had a tiny bit of a rough start for me because the tone was so different from what I was expecting. The tea master was intimate in feel. This one was like I was watching from afar. Plus the narrative jumps back and forth between characters and it was slightly hard to adjust. That said, those are minor issues and I still avidly wanted to know what was going on.
I didn't really like either of the two women because they both are obstinate to the detriment of everyone. They were still fun characters even if they are knuckleheads. I adored the world building and politics. There are other familial issues besides the antagonistic relationship of the two main characters. I found the life of the family and their relationships to be fascinating.
The ending was absolutely stunning in how it tied everything together and packed an emotional punch. This wasn't quite a perfect read because of the start but damn did I enjoy it. I can see why it was nominated for the Hugo, Nebula, and Locus in 2013. Arrrr!
February 21, 2020
On a Red Station, Drifting is a novella set in the Xuya universe, the first according to publication order, and of course I unintentionally read this (companion) series backwards. It also ended up being my least favorite so far.
...which means I can tell you that this series gets better with each book.
This novella is a story about the repercussions of war on a space station. We do not actually see anything about the war, but we see how the station struggles with resources when more and more refugees come in. I thought this was a really interesting choice, and that's one of the things I like the most about this series - it focuses on the stories we usually do not see in sci-fi books. Don't get me wrong, I love reading about space battles, but I also like to read about characters living their lives in space. This kind of point of view usually gets ignored.
It's also a story about family and the way difficult circumstances tend to strain those bonds. Many of the characters in this story resent each other - Quyen is looking for control while the station's AI is deteriorating, Linh is dealing with the consequences of choices made on a distant planet, and other characters are looking for escape, or desperately trying to challenge inequality with the wrong means.
The characters' decisions were never unbelievable, but the constant clashes between them, paired with the (very short) length of this story, prevented me from ever really caring about anyone.
The main reason I didn't like this story as much as the other two novellas was the way it talked about suicide. I don't want to spoil anything, but what happened felt a lot like the usual "suicide is selfish" narrative. Now, I know the characters' thoughts about that are both due to the fact that they were obviously upset and also to the way their culture thinks about suicide, but it still hurt to read. I wish I had know it was there, because now I kind of wish I hadn't read it. I prefer to believe basic mental health awareness exists in space.
Anyway, I still really enjoyed many aspects of this book - mainly because I love the worldbuilding. It's set in a Vietnamese space empire, and with every novella I get to know more about the details, from the way marriage is seen to the inequalities that exist in this universe. My favorite parts are always the ones that have to do with Minds, and the station's AI was my favorite character in this book.
...which means I can tell you that this series gets better with each book.
This novella is a story about the repercussions of war on a space station. We do not actually see anything about the war, but we see how the station struggles with resources when more and more refugees come in. I thought this was a really interesting choice, and that's one of the things I like the most about this series - it focuses on the stories we usually do not see in sci-fi books. Don't get me wrong, I love reading about space battles, but I also like to read about characters living their lives in space. This kind of point of view usually gets ignored.
It's also a story about family and the way difficult circumstances tend to strain those bonds. Many of the characters in this story resent each other - Quyen is looking for control while the station's AI is deteriorating, Linh is dealing with the consequences of choices made on a distant planet, and other characters are looking for escape, or desperately trying to challenge inequality with the wrong means.
The characters' decisions were never unbelievable, but the constant clashes between them, paired with the (very short) length of this story, prevented me from ever really caring about anyone.
The main reason I didn't like this story as much as the other two novellas was the way it talked about suicide. I don't want to spoil anything, but what happened felt a lot like the usual "suicide is selfish" narrative. Now, I know the characters' thoughts about that are both due to the fact that they were obviously upset and also to the way their culture thinks about suicide, but it still hurt to read. I wish I had know it was there, because now I kind of wish I hadn't read it. I prefer to believe basic mental health awareness exists in space.
Anyway, I still really enjoyed many aspects of this book - mainly because I love the worldbuilding. It's set in a Vietnamese space empire, and with every novella I get to know more about the details, from the way marriage is seen to the inequalities that exist in this universe. My favorite parts are always the ones that have to do with Minds, and the station's AI was my favorite character in this book.
May 15, 2018
In this novella – two protagonists collide on a small space station, away from the war that rages in the center of the Dai Viet Empire. Quyen is the station administrator, not because she can do the job or was assigned to it but because she inherited it from her husband, who has left to fight the war. Linh is a former high-level administrator, talented and educated, who escaped the war but lost everything else: her position, her friends, her self-respect. She could’ve done the job of administering the station in her sleep, but Quyen wouldn’t allow her.
Linh is bitter and disillusioned with the Empire and its policies. She wants to do something befitting her station, but Quyen, jealous of her own power, shows Linh only disdain. The clash of these two women brings the story to its tragic denouement. Tragic for everyone except Quyen. That one gets all she wanted. She even got rid of her rival Linh.
Linh, despite her bitterness, is the heroine, a tragic figure who makes mistakes, but in the end, sacrifices herself for the others. I didn’t really like her, but at least I had respect for her. Quyen, on the other hand, is an arrogant bitch of the first order, a petty tyrant who doesn’t allow anyone to step out of line, to have their own opinions. I hate the woman with all my heart. I really, truly want her dead. She doesn’t deserve her fortune. She makes others miserable. She ruins lives. But like most petty tyrants, she ends up on top. The only fictional character I disliked with the same intensity was the anti-hero of Marquez’s The Autumn of the Patriarch. But unlike the Columbian writer’s antagonist, whom Marquez hated as much as I did, de Bodard seems to sympathize with Quyen.
I also dislike the world of Dai Viet. Its disregard for the individual freedom and happiness, its obsession with the dead ancestors rub me the wrong way. I wrote about it in my review for The Waiting Stars, so I won’t repeat myself here, except to say: I’m a child of the Western civilization. I don’t understand the values of Dai Viet people. That’s why all my sympathy lies with the only character who showed individuality: the guy who wanted to escape. I’m with him 100%. In his situation, I might’ve made the same choices, and I’m so sorry for him, for his inability to flee the little world ruled by Quyen and her ilk.
This writer has me torn. On one hand, her narrative creates characters who live and breathe. It unfolds the world that seems real, but the only feelings I have towards her characters or her world are negative. I don’t like any of the people populating her story. But like a masochist, I want to read more of her.
A note on my deficiency: this novella has a poem that leads the plot to its explosive conclusion. I read the poem twice. I didn’t understand what was so explosive or even meaningful in it. I didn’t understand the emotions that the poem is supposed to invoke. I didn’t understand its secret allusions. It was just a few lines about some birds, not even rhyming or especially beautiful. Maybe if my background was steeped in Vietnamese mythology, I could’ve got it. I wonder how many other readers don’t understand it. Am I alone in my ignorance?
Linh is bitter and disillusioned with the Empire and its policies. She wants to do something befitting her station, but Quyen, jealous of her own power, shows Linh only disdain. The clash of these two women brings the story to its tragic denouement. Tragic for everyone except Quyen. That one gets all she wanted. She even got rid of her rival Linh.
Linh, despite her bitterness, is the heroine, a tragic figure who makes mistakes, but in the end, sacrifices herself for the others. I didn’t really like her, but at least I had respect for her. Quyen, on the other hand, is an arrogant bitch of the first order, a petty tyrant who doesn’t allow anyone to step out of line, to have their own opinions. I hate the woman with all my heart. I really, truly want her dead. She doesn’t deserve her fortune. She makes others miserable. She ruins lives. But like most petty tyrants, she ends up on top. The only fictional character I disliked with the same intensity was the anti-hero of Marquez’s The Autumn of the Patriarch. But unlike the Columbian writer’s antagonist, whom Marquez hated as much as I did, de Bodard seems to sympathize with Quyen.
I also dislike the world of Dai Viet. Its disregard for the individual freedom and happiness, its obsession with the dead ancestors rub me the wrong way. I wrote about it in my review for The Waiting Stars, so I won’t repeat myself here, except to say: I’m a child of the Western civilization. I don’t understand the values of Dai Viet people. That’s why all my sympathy lies with the only character who showed individuality: the guy who wanted to escape. I’m with him 100%. In his situation, I might’ve made the same choices, and I’m so sorry for him, for his inability to flee the little world ruled by Quyen and her ilk.
This writer has me torn. On one hand, her narrative creates characters who live and breathe. It unfolds the world that seems real, but the only feelings I have towards her characters or her world are negative. I don’t like any of the people populating her story. But like a masochist, I want to read more of her.
A note on my deficiency: this novella has a poem that leads the plot to its explosive conclusion. I read the poem twice. I didn’t understand what was so explosive or even meaningful in it. I didn’t understand the emotions that the poem is supposed to invoke. I didn’t understand its secret allusions. It was just a few lines about some birds, not even rhyming or especially beautiful. Maybe if my background was steeped in Vietnamese mythology, I could’ve got it. I wonder how many other readers don’t understand it. Am I alone in my ignorance?
October 27, 2016
Romanzo breve ambientato nell’era spaziale dell’universo Xuya (in cui il colonialismo non ha avuto un forte impatto sull’Asia, e i cinesi hanno scoperto le Americhe). Siamo su una stazione artificiale in un lembo sperduto della galassia, lontano dalla guerra che ne sta dilaniando i pianeti.
Il libro di Aliette de Bodard fa parte di quella fantascienza sociale in cui il lato antropologico è predominante, come in molte opere di Ursula K. Le Guin. Il lato sci-fi non manca: Bodard ha inventato delle particolari intelligenze artificiali, le Menti biomeccaniche che mantengono in funzione astronavi e stazioni spaziali; ma anche in questo caso, è più importante l’aspetto antropologico. La cultura di origine vietnamita, a cui appartengono gli abitanti della stazione, ha integrato le nuove tecnologie con le antiche tradizioni, per cui sono in uso apparecchiature che creano una realtà aumentata conservando le memorie degli antenati, le cui voci e i cui valori rimangono vivi nelle menti delle persone dotate degli apparecchi a loro appartenuti. La Mente che gestisce la Stazione Prosperità è definita “Onorevole Antenata”, essendo molto più longeva di un essere umano (anche se non immortale), e i rapporti tra questa entità e i suoi “discendenti” sono governati dal rispetto e dall’affetto filiale.
Bodard svela questo contesto nello sviluppo di un racconto che parla del conflitto tra due donne dalle personalità diversissime, rappresentando di ciascuna i pregi e i difetti, le ragioni e i torti, senza incoraggiare il lettore a schierarsi univocamente con una delle due.
L’universo Xuya è sempre interessantissimo, e così anche questa storia. Unico appunto: il libro crea una forte aspettativa iniziale sugli elementi più prettamente fantascientifici, proseguendo invece su una strada più introspettiva (quindi, in sostanza, disattendendo alcune delle promesse fatte nelle prime pagine). Rimane però un valido esempio di questo filone di speculative fiction del Terzo Millennio.
Novella finalista al premio Nebula 2012 e al premio Hugo 2013.
Il libro di Aliette de Bodard fa parte di quella fantascienza sociale in cui il lato antropologico è predominante, come in molte opere di Ursula K. Le Guin. Il lato sci-fi non manca: Bodard ha inventato delle particolari intelligenze artificiali, le Menti biomeccaniche che mantengono in funzione astronavi e stazioni spaziali; ma anche in questo caso, è più importante l’aspetto antropologico. La cultura di origine vietnamita, a cui appartengono gli abitanti della stazione, ha integrato le nuove tecnologie con le antiche tradizioni, per cui sono in uso apparecchiature che creano una realtà aumentata conservando le memorie degli antenati, le cui voci e i cui valori rimangono vivi nelle menti delle persone dotate degli apparecchi a loro appartenuti. La Mente che gestisce la Stazione Prosperità è definita “Onorevole Antenata”, essendo molto più longeva di un essere umano (anche se non immortale), e i rapporti tra questa entità e i suoi “discendenti” sono governati dal rispetto e dall’affetto filiale.
Bodard svela questo contesto nello sviluppo di un racconto che parla del conflitto tra due donne dalle personalità diversissime, rappresentando di ciascuna i pregi e i difetti, le ragioni e i torti, senza incoraggiare il lettore a schierarsi univocamente con una delle due.
L’universo Xuya è sempre interessantissimo, e così anche questa storia. Unico appunto: il libro crea una forte aspettativa iniziale sugli elementi più prettamente fantascientifici, proseguendo invece su una strada più introspettiva (quindi, in sostanza, disattendendo alcune delle promesse fatte nelle prime pagine). Rimane però un valido esempio di questo filone di speculative fiction del Terzo Millennio.
Novella finalista al premio Nebula 2012 e al premio Hugo 2013.
January 29, 2019
This is a SF novella, which was a Hugo and Nebula Award nominee. The story is set is some kind of galactic empire, which is based not on western (Roman/British) but on eastern (Vietnam/China) history.
A woman comes to a space station, running from a rebellion, which engulfed her planet, she was a high level bureaucrat, the magistrate, but now she is just a refuge, seeking a place to live. However, she has a dark secret, which can endanger the habitat.
The ‘eastern flavor’ is added by several ingenious ideas, based on ancestors’ veneration: the station AI is based on the initial ancestor of people living on the habitat and high level civil servants have mem-implants with memories (and to some extent personalities) of their ancestors. I guess most westerners will assume that the inspiration is China, but actually (based on names, etc) it is Vietnam, even if some historical borrowings/allusions are from the a thousand year occupation of Vietnam by China.
The ideas are great, but the story is very weak, it hasn’t endeared me a bit, therefore the low final rating.
A woman comes to a space station, running from a rebellion, which engulfed her planet, she was a high level bureaucrat, the magistrate, but now she is just a refuge, seeking a place to live. However, she has a dark secret, which can endanger the habitat.
The ‘eastern flavor’ is added by several ingenious ideas, based on ancestors’ veneration: the station AI is based on the initial ancestor of people living on the habitat and high level civil servants have mem-implants with memories (and to some extent personalities) of their ancestors. I guess most westerners will assume that the inspiration is China, but actually (based on names, etc) it is Vietnam, even if some historical borrowings/allusions are from the a thousand year occupation of Vietnam by China.
The ideas are great, but the story is very weak, it hasn’t endeared me a bit, therefore the low final rating.
December 5, 2023
This is very similar to the universe of Arkady Martine, and that is a compliment, especially since this one came first. I should have read it back in 2012, it must have been amazing back then. It's now slightly eclipsed by Arkady Martines Teixcalaan empire, but that would be incredibly difficult to beat, and this one is only a novella, so I look forward to reading a full length novel by Aliette de Bodard. It's really quite dramatic in a slow fashion, everything is played out on a space- station, and there is a space-ship in it so proper SF. Quoting from Aliette de Bodard's site it's "set in a timeline where Asia became dominant, and where the space age has Confucian galactic empires of Vietnamese and Chinese inspiration", which to me is quite strange, but interesting.
It's not a quick read, it's a good read.
Reread 2023: Still ever so good, better even.
It's not a quick read, it's a good read.
Reread 2023: Still ever so good, better even.
April 20, 2024
¡Me ha gustado bastante!
Aunque durante gran parte del libro no hay una gran acción "en primer plano" la autora logra transmitir mucho con las relaciones familiares en esta novela. He sufrido a lo largo de los distintos acontecimientos que suceden a la familia y la estación, y el final me ha gustado mucho.
No me habría importado profundizar mucho más en el worbu de las naves mentales, me parece muy interesante lo que he podido ver en este y otro relato de la autora y se me ha hecho muy corto en ese sentido ¡habría querido mucho más!
Lo que más me ha gustado de esta novela sin embargo es la construcción de personajes. Dado que la trama se basa cien por cien en ellos, esto es un punto muy positivo.
El ritmo de la historia se me ha hecho un pelín lento, pero es verdad que creo que es el que encaja con la trama y la ambientación. También yo no estaba en mi mejor momento para leer, seguro que eso ha influido en mi percepción en este sentido.
Aunque durante gran parte del libro no hay una gran acción "en primer plano" la autora logra transmitir mucho con las relaciones familiares en esta novela. He sufrido a lo largo de los distintos acontecimientos que suceden a la familia y la estación, y el final me ha gustado mucho.
No me habría importado profundizar mucho más en el worbu de las naves mentales, me parece muy interesante lo que he podido ver en este y otro relato de la autora y se me ha hecho muy corto en ese sentido ¡habría querido mucho más!
Lo que más me ha gustado de esta novela sin embargo es la construcción de personajes. Dado que la trama se basa cien por cien en ellos, esto es un punto muy positivo.
El ritmo de la historia se me ha hecho un pelín lento, pero es verdad que creo que es el que encaja con la trama y la ambientación. También yo no estaba en mi mejor momento para leer, seguro que eso ha influido en mi percepción en este sentido.
January 4, 2021
Creo que es el que más me ha gustado de la autora con diferencia. Tanto la vida en la estación Prosper como los personajes que la habitan están perfectamente construidos. Pero quizás lo que más me ha gustado ha sido la dinámica de antipatía y diferentes puntos de vista entre Lihn y Quyen, cada una con sus propios motivos y razones, pero sin caer nunca en los clichés de la rivalidad. La relación entre Lihn y Hui también me ha parecido muy humana y visceral, algo que no se acostumbra a encontrar en este tipo de historias.
July 25, 2025
Families are SO difficult
Aliette de Bodard's On a Red Station, Drifting has the virtue of being relatively simple. "Relatively" means "compared to other Xuya Universe stories". It takes place in an empire at war. As usual, there are a million dangers and a million characters, interacting through a complex system of rules and etiquettes that are nearly impenetrable to anyone who didn't grow up in a Vietnamese family.
But that is all translucent. It's not transparent -- if, like me, you have a vanilla middle-class American upbringing, you're gonna work to see through it, and even when you do, what you see will be colored by de Bodard's background and story-telling. That's a good thing!
But fundamentally, it's a simple story. There are three main characters: Quyen, Mistress of Prosper station, her cousin Linh, a former scholar and magistrate down on her luck, and the Honoured Ancestress, who is also the mind of Prosper Station. Linh and Quyen don't get along. They strike sparks off each other, just like your sister and your old uncle at Thanksgiving dinner. They act out, and damage is done. Despite the exoticism, it felt very familiar to me.
I enjoyed this a lot.
Blog review.
Aliette de Bodard's On a Red Station, Drifting has the virtue of being relatively simple. "Relatively" means "compared to other Xuya Universe stories". It takes place in an empire at war. As usual, there are a million dangers and a million characters, interacting through a complex system of rules and etiquettes that are nearly impenetrable to anyone who didn't grow up in a Vietnamese family.
But that is all translucent. It's not transparent -- if, like me, you have a vanilla middle-class American upbringing, you're gonna work to see through it, and even when you do, what you see will be colored by de Bodard's background and story-telling. That's a good thing!
But fundamentally, it's a simple story. There are three main characters: Quyen, Mistress of Prosper station, her cousin Linh, a former scholar and magistrate down on her luck, and the Honoured Ancestress, who is also the mind of Prosper Station. Linh and Quyen don't get along. They strike sparks off each other, just like your sister and your old uncle at Thanksgiving dinner. They act out, and damage is done. Despite the exoticism, it felt very familiar to me.
I enjoyed this a lot.
Blog review.
August 24, 2018
I kept not picking this up for the longest time because I had a vague memory of reading it and not ‘getting’ it, and thus I also avoided other books in the same world. Wrong! I’ve no idea what book I was thinking of, but it wasn’t this one: some aspects of the culture are a little bit opaque to me, like the significance of the poem that is a key moment for the characters, but it was a fascinating read. The characters are complex: not necessarily likeable, in fact most of them aren’t, but human. You can see why they do the things they do; it’s complicated, and there’s no easy answer to who is right and who is wrong.
I think I was most intrigued by the Honoured Ancestress, and her place in the story. Of course I thought of Iain M. Bank’s Culture novels first, and the Minds, but clearly this isn’t just like that. I found the AI’s distress at falling apart and failing one of the most affecting parts of the story: feeling your mind crumble from within…
Definitely interested in reading more in this world. Not sure what book steered me wrongly away from this through resemblance in title or cover, but it was lying.
Reviewed for The Bibliophibian.
I think I was most intrigued by the Honoured Ancestress, and her place in the story. Of course I thought of Iain M. Bank’s Culture novels first, and the Minds, but clearly this isn’t just like that. I found the AI’s distress at falling apart and failing one of the most affecting parts of the story: feeling your mind crumble from within…
Definitely interested in reading more in this world. Not sure what book steered me wrongly away from this through resemblance in title or cover, but it was lying.
Reviewed for The Bibliophibian.
December 19, 2014
La mezcla perfecta entre CiFi y una tradición oriental.
Novela corta, te atrapa desde el primer momento de tal manera que no puedes parar de leer, realmente fascinante el cambio de puntos de vista, la exquisita mezcla entre tradición y CiFi, puedes ver/oler/saborear/oir ese frufrú de la seda, esa salsa de pescado...
Altamente recomendable, sin dudarlo el descubrimiento de Aliette de Bodard y su narrativa ha sido uno de los grandes descubrimientos de este año.
Novela corta, te atrapa desde el primer momento de tal manera que no puedes parar de leer, realmente fascinante el cambio de puntos de vista, la exquisita mezcla entre tradición y CiFi, puedes ver/oler/saborear/oir ese frufrú de la seda, esa salsa de pescado...
Altamente recomendable, sin dudarlo el descubrimiento de Aliette de Bodard y su narrativa ha sido uno de los grandes descubrimientos de este año.
December 6, 2014
Quiero más
November 26, 2020
When I got to the end of this book, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. That and similar cliches Swiss cheese this story.
February 26, 2025
Are not friends and sworn brothers as important as blood-brothers? A true friend will know your heart, and hear the roar of running waters and the distant wind over the mountains in the song of your zither, without any need for you to speak aloud.
There is a thing that happens to me quite often while reading Aliette de Bodard's book... I latch onto the wrong thing! This book is perfectly fine and quite good, possibly great, but... for some reason my brain was in a mystery setting and once the mem-plants disappeared I had my conspiracy hat on wondering what could have happened, who else could have been involved and... yeah, that wasn't what this book wanted me to focus on! I'm wondering if it's a spoiler to tell you that stuff is more or less what it seems to be at the beginning. What happened isn't really the question, the question is... well, saying "why?" would also be misleading... This book is interested in characters and the way their personalities clash and the plot is more about uncovering and showing different aspects of those people than it is about what's actually happening. Which won't be for everyone, but I loved it (when I stopped focusing on my theories!). Anyway, part of me thinks that this book could have pulled what it was doing while also adding/strengthening the mystery part, but... that's just what I want not what the book was going for in the first place.
Anyway, so moving on from that, this book has two POV characters Quyen and Lady Linh, both of whom are very different from one another, don't particularly like each other, make mistakes, but also are relatable in a lot of ways.
The book starts with Lady Linh arriving on Prosper station which is inhabited by her distant relatives. Linh is in some sense a war refugee but she is also considered traitor by the Empire for publishing a memo that criticized Emperor's actions or lack thereof. For me, Linh was hard to like in places, she is highly educated and as a result holds higher position in society than most/all inhabitants of Prosper station. She is very aware of that and acts and thinks accordingly. But the strength of her character and her willingness to call-out wrong behaviour in people more powerful than her is something to be admired.
"Child?" the Honoured Ancestress said. The transce-link was tinged with sadness, like unshed tears. "Will you find it, daughter? It... it means much to me."
"Daughter. The emphasis was unmistakable. Quyen thought of herself a decade ago: a frightened young girl just off the ship, praying that her husband would be kind; and of the strange sheen rising around her, the all-encompassing embrace that took her in, and asked nothing back. Nothing, save her love and piety; and were they not such a small price to pay?
Quyen on the other hand, I loved. Although she is currently (more or less) leading the Prosper station it's not something that she was raised and educated to do. She was a "lesser" partner in her marriage (something that's not related to gender but education and what we might call academic excellence, although it also has some cultural specifics), but when most of the "greater" partners from Prosper station left to take their place in war and didn't come back this responsibility fell to her.
I also found her relationship with Honoured Ancestress especially touching. Hounoured Ancestress is the name of the mind of Prosper station and her relationship with Quyen was beautiful, but also something in danger due to malfunctions that shouldn't be possible for mindships.
In the end, I feel like I wasn't always on the same wavelength with this one. I had a couple of "what are you trying to say?!" moments, but I don't really want to held it against this book, because I feel like this is at least partially because as I already said at the beginning, I was focusing on wrong aspects in the first half and also because these types of questions are re-read material!
Overall, I do agree with the opinion that this is a good place to start with the Xuya Universe, a lot of worldbuilding is laid here, things are explained and there are only two POVs to follow without any more complicated structure. This probably isn't my personal favourite, I still think that some of the short-stories in this universe are the strongest, but it is pretty good. Definitely will be re-reading in the future!
4,5⭐
P.S. In case you finished the book and are dissatisfied with the place we abandoned Lady Linh's story, pick up The Citadel of Weeping Pearls, you will learn what happened there!
BRed at WBtM: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
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