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Un pays de fantômes
Dimos Horacki is a Borolian journalist and a cynical patriot, his muckraking days behind him. But when his newspaper ships him to the front, he's embedded in the Imperial Army and the reality of colonial expansion is laid bare before him. His adventures take him from villages and homesteads to the great refugee city of Hronople, built of glass, steel, and stone, all the while a war rages around him. The empire fights for coal and iron, but the anarchists of Hron fight for their way of life.
From the editor of Mythmakers & Lawbreakers: Anarchist Writers on Fiction and author of What Lies Beneath the Clock Tower comes a seditious novel of utopia besieged, a novel that challenges every premise of contemporary society.
From the editor of Mythmakers & Lawbreakers: Anarchist Writers on Fiction and author of What Lies Beneath the Clock Tower comes a seditious novel of utopia besieged, a novel that challenges every premise of contemporary society.
272 pages
First published February 28, 2014
90 people are currently reading
5487 people want to read
About the author
Margaret Killjoy
57 books1,453 followersMargaret Killjoy is a transfeminine author and editor currently based in the Appalachian mountains. Her most recent book is an anarchist demon hunters novella called The Barrow Will Send What it May, published by Tor.com. She spends her time crafting and complaining about authoritarian power structures and she blogs at birdsbeforethestorm.net.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 228 reviews
September 6, 2023
Original 2018 review: I think I might be an anarchist now.
2023 rereading review: Well, still an anarchist and perhaps the best thing I can say for this book is how often I think randomly about Hron over any of the theory I've read in the intervening years. This is sweet and sad and only a little didactic and gained an extra star on the reread.
2023 rereading review: Well, still an anarchist and perhaps the best thing I can say for this book is how often I think randomly about Hron over any of the theory I've read in the intervening years. This is sweet and sad and only a little didactic and gained an extra star on the reread.
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February 20, 2023The story of a sort of alt european land where an expansionist, colonialist empire comes up against an anarchist collective. It's really about exploring what an anarchist 'country' would look like and what it would mean, and what sort of people it might or might not work for. Sounds a bit dry but very much done as a story, with compelling characters and vivid descriptions. I can't say I was entirely convinced philosophically speaking, but it's a very interesting speculation.
September 22, 2016
A beautiful, thought-provoking dream of a quasi-19th century anarchist 'country' fighting for its existence against an expansionist empire.
I can still remember the image of a bunch of crustypunks huddled under a frozen waterfall amidst the vast mountains, playing music and fighting off the stench of death. I remember the protagonist's silent, introspective train ride into his own future, and the love and violence that would follow.
This is an explicitly didactic book, intended to describe and explain the foundational ideologies of an anti-authoritative society based on mutual aid and personal responsibility. It also understands that there are no utopias, and that it is fiction, but that it may nonetheless help us understand our own lives, ideologies, and the potential for better societies in our hearts.
If I have one criticism, it is that that explicit didacticism peeks through the fantasy veil too often in the voices of its characters, who sometimes start espousing these ideologies using exactly the anarchist shibboleth of our world, as though each is bursting at the seams to explain to a novice how the system of no system works. There are absolutely cases in which it's arguably motivated and in-character, but I would have expected many more of them to have not really had the words to explain. To be sure, there are characters who are this way—who just seem confused at the interloper's confusion, and in any case, the book's overall beauty and memorability more than make up for these moments.
I can say with honesty that this book genuinely helped me understand—I think—the core of contemporary anarchist philosophy, which is that it is more just to live in societies that relinquish the use of force over other human beings. I can't say that I don't still have questions or fears—say, of the terrifying potential of vigilante 'justice'—but seeing the world of Hron through the eyes of the main character allowed me to think through the potentials and the caveats.
It was, is, a memorable journey, and one that I expect to continue on, in many ways.
I can still remember the image of a bunch of crustypunks huddled under a frozen waterfall amidst the vast mountains, playing music and fighting off the stench of death. I remember the protagonist's silent, introspective train ride into his own future, and the love and violence that would follow.
This is an explicitly didactic book, intended to describe and explain the foundational ideologies of an anti-authoritative society based on mutual aid and personal responsibility. It also understands that there are no utopias, and that it is fiction, but that it may nonetheless help us understand our own lives, ideologies, and the potential for better societies in our hearts.
If I have one criticism, it is that that explicit didacticism peeks through the fantasy veil too often in the voices of its characters, who sometimes start espousing these ideologies using exactly the anarchist shibboleth of our world, as though each is bursting at the seams to explain to a novice how the system of no system works. There are absolutely cases in which it's arguably motivated and in-character, but I would have expected many more of them to have not really had the words to explain. To be sure, there are characters who are this way—who just seem confused at the interloper's confusion, and in any case, the book's overall beauty and memorability more than make up for these moments.
I can say with honesty that this book genuinely helped me understand—I think—the core of contemporary anarchist philosophy, which is that it is more just to live in societies that relinquish the use of force over other human beings. I can't say that I don't still have questions or fears—say, of the terrifying potential of vigilante 'justice'—but seeing the world of Hron through the eyes of the main character allowed me to think through the potentials and the caveats.
It was, is, a memorable journey, and one that I expect to continue on, in many ways.
March 16, 2014
I will have to come back to this for a real review, but it's beautiful, and it's simple, and hopeful, and it contains all the reasons why I'm here in Central African Republic right now, too busy to write the strong book reviews that good books deserve, working alongside local volunteers to support farmers to plant food crops after horrific authoritarian/sectarian violence, the kind that lumps all people of one particular characteristic as guilty for the violence done by armed factions of another characteristic, destroyed homes and fields and lives. There is an alternative that sees people as individuals who we can work with and alongside and for, regardless of ethnic or national or (in this CAR context) religious affiliation, and we can choose to live it; some do, everywhere. This book captures that conviction and offers a vision. Also I liked it because some of the characters are thinly veiled crustypunks.
November 17, 2021
The Borellian empire invades a nearby mountainous country Hron for its resources, and dresses up the Empire's motives by calling the people of Hron “savages” because they are different. So, the typical, tissue-thin rationale is trotted out for invasion and destruction of another country.
Journalist Dimos Horacki is sent to the Borellian front to be embedded with the Empire’s troops. Dimos has a reputation as a sh*t disturber, and almost immediately upon his arrival, everyone takes exception to him, from the commander of the troops, a hard, violent man who brutalizes the rebellious villagers of Hron, to the soldier assigned to shepherd Horacki around. When Horacki is sent outside of camp with some soldiers, he’s captured, and falls in with the Hron First Company, who have been harrying the army using guerrilla tactics. Initially, Horacki is frightened, then skeptical, as he learns more about the beliefs of these people, and their way of life, which is unlike anything he's ever encountered before. The Hron call themselves anarchists, and subscribe to a way of living that is rooted in respect for others and for one's environment, and works well for the people, who find Borellia's formal, hierarchical ruling bodies strange. Instead, people agree to follow accords, and it's a remarkably peaceful and respectful life amongst the many villagers Horacki meets. It's also interesting to see how these same people react to the intent of the Empire and its army.
This is a dark book at its outset, as the journalist meets his country's army, and watches them in action when they encounter any resistance from the Hron villagers. It's not an attractive look at the way so many invading countries justify the snatching of resources of other countries, and the brutalization of the opposing people. At the same time, there's a profoundly hopeful feel to this story, as Dimos encounters a radically different approach to life. The people of Hron's anarchic approach to decisions, big and small (i.e, their environment to each other), is one of respect, and sharing with each other, whether goods or assistance. Everyone abides by this, and honours each other in this way. It's a very different approach to the hierarchical systems we have in our world, and author Margaret Killjoy has the peoples of these two very different beliefs interact, remarking on the oddities of each other, when not coming together explosively.
The author also makes the unflattering observation that on imperialism requires an empire to be constantly moving outwards, expanding its borders and gobbling everything up and crushing anything it doesn’t need or like. The author clearly wishes we could be more like the people of Hron. I found myself wishing for a more compassionate way of living with others, and also how Hron continued to fare, and whether they ever managed to convince Borollia that Hron was just too much trouble to absorb.
Thank you to Edelweiss and for this ARC in exchange for my review.
Journalist Dimos Horacki is sent to the Borellian front to be embedded with the Empire’s troops. Dimos has a reputation as a sh*t disturber, and almost immediately upon his arrival, everyone takes exception to him, from the commander of the troops, a hard, violent man who brutalizes the rebellious villagers of Hron, to the soldier assigned to shepherd Horacki around. When Horacki is sent outside of camp with some soldiers, he’s captured, and falls in with the Hron First Company, who have been harrying the army using guerrilla tactics. Initially, Horacki is frightened, then skeptical, as he learns more about the beliefs of these people, and their way of life, which is unlike anything he's ever encountered before. The Hron call themselves anarchists, and subscribe to a way of living that is rooted in respect for others and for one's environment, and works well for the people, who find Borellia's formal, hierarchical ruling bodies strange. Instead, people agree to follow accords, and it's a remarkably peaceful and respectful life amongst the many villagers Horacki meets. It's also interesting to see how these same people react to the intent of the Empire and its army.
This is a dark book at its outset, as the journalist meets his country's army, and watches them in action when they encounter any resistance from the Hron villagers. It's not an attractive look at the way so many invading countries justify the snatching of resources of other countries, and the brutalization of the opposing people. At the same time, there's a profoundly hopeful feel to this story, as Dimos encounters a radically different approach to life. The people of Hron's anarchic approach to decisions, big and small (i.e, their environment to each other), is one of respect, and sharing with each other, whether goods or assistance. Everyone abides by this, and honours each other in this way. It's a very different approach to the hierarchical systems we have in our world, and author Margaret Killjoy has the peoples of these two very different beliefs interact, remarking on the oddities of each other, when not coming together explosively.
The author also makes the unflattering observation that on imperialism requires an empire to be constantly moving outwards, expanding its borders and gobbling everything up and crushing anything it doesn’t need or like. The author clearly wishes we could be more like the people of Hron. I found myself wishing for a more compassionate way of living with others, and also how Hron continued to fare, and whether they ever managed to convince Borollia that Hron was just too much trouble to absorb.
Thank you to Edelweiss and for this ARC in exchange for my review.
December 8, 2024
Anarchist fantasy… hmm
January 24, 2023
I've wanted to read A Country of Ghosts for five and a half years, after coming across a recommendation somewhere, but struggled to find a copy. For years it was out of print and second-hand copies were rare, expensive, and all in the US. Then this month I found a new-looking copy in the Oxfam online shop, which is great for second-hand books, and was amused to discover its new publisher is located in Edinburgh, a few miles from my flat! Nice to know that there is an anarchist press around here.
A Country of Ghosts is a fantasy novel employing a structure akin to 19th century utopian fiction and the sensibility of Le Guin's masterful The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia. It follows a journalist named Dimos who is sent to embed with an imperial army fighting 'brigands' in a war of expansion. After surviving an attack, he follows the rebels and discovers their anarchist way of life. Making the protagonist a journalist produces an engaging and informative journalistic narrative style. As I'd hoped, this is a really interesting work of social science fiction. More unexpectedly, I also found the solidarity and community that Dimos encounters very moving.
As Dimos explores the anarchist societies of Hron, there are many conversations about how things work:
Killjoy writes conversations like this, which do a lot of political worldbuilding, with particular skill. Dimos doesn't have one guide who tells him everything, but instead learns via discussions with many different people and experience of living in and defending Hron. Of especial note is his encounter with libertarian anarchists (for want of a better term). They are individualists with no sense of community and include someone who murdered many while carelessly testing chemical weapons:
I found the ending powerful and the whole book a wonderful, heartfelt thought experiment in anarchist society. It read to me as informed by both history and theory, as well as imagination. I was reminded of David Graeber's Possibilities: Essays on Hierarchy, Rebellion, and Desire. I think it stands alongside utopian novels like Marge Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time and Ernest Callenbach's Ecotopia. The author's afterword includes astute comments on utopian and dystopian fiction, a perpetual preoccupation of mine:
Ain't that the truth. This became particularly clear to me during the period in 2016/17 when I read sixteen novels found by keyword searching 'dystopia' in the library catalogue. (I wrote this up in my review of the sixteenth, The Silent History.) There are a lot of substandard dystopias out there, as well as fiction described as dystopian that I would classify otherwise (e.g as sci-fi, postapocalyptic, or a fable). Utopian novels are much rarer and tend to be of higher quality. Ada Palmer's Too Like the Lightning and sequels are astonishingly ambitious recent examples of utopian writing. A Country of Ghosts is much more accessible and rather more emotionally engaging. I really enjoyed it and think Killjoy succeeds admirably in putting forward an argument for the possibility of freedom.
A Country of Ghosts is a fantasy novel employing a structure akin to 19th century utopian fiction and the sensibility of Le Guin's masterful The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia. It follows a journalist named Dimos who is sent to embed with an imperial army fighting 'brigands' in a war of expansion. After surviving an attack, he follows the rebels and discovers their anarchist way of life. Making the protagonist a journalist produces an engaging and informative journalistic narrative style. As I'd hoped, this is a really interesting work of social science fiction. More unexpectedly, I also found the solidarity and community that Dimos encounters very moving.
As Dimos explores the anarchist societies of Hron, there are many conversations about how things work:
"What if no one wanted to, I don't know, harvest food or tend to the ostriches or cook or wash up?" I asked.
Sakana was exasperated by my questioning.
"I'm sorry," I said to her, though I intended for my apology to extend to my companions as well. "I'm here as a journalist and the place I'm from is very, very different from Hron. I don't understand the way you live."
"If people wanted to starve, I suppose they could," Sakana said. "I tend to find that people prefer to eat. And to eat, we have to plant and harvest, we have to herd and hunt. We find joy in doing things for ourselves and our communities."
"What about less pleasant things, like washing dishes? Or, I don't know, maintaining your system of sewage? Cleaning latrines?"
"Where you're from, do you have to get paid to shower? Dress yourself? When you're done working, do you walk off and leave the tools in disarray? I don't mean to sound disrespectful," Sakana said, "but are you a country of children?"
"No," I said.
"Well, since you're a grown man, while you're a guest at Moliknari, I'll expect you to clean up your own waste and wipe your own ass."
"I meant no offence," I said.
"Then make none," she answered.
Killjoy writes conversations like this, which do a lot of political worldbuilding, with particular skill. Dimos doesn't have one guide who tells him everything, but instead learns via discussions with many different people and experience of living in and defending Hron. Of especial note is his encounter with libertarian anarchists (for want of a better term). They are individualists with no sense of community and include someone who murdered many while carelessly testing chemical weapons:
The two weeks I spent in the company of the Freer Companies taught me almost everything I've come to know and treasure about anarchism, largely by negative example. Freedom, I think, isn't enough. You need freedom and responsibility paired together. As Sorros would say, freedom is a relationship between people, not an absolute and static state for an individual.
Oh, to be sure, the men and women of Karak (and it was largely men, in about a 3-2 ratio with women) were decent people, or at least better people than I'd met in His Majesty's Army, but I never felt safe in their company. Just like the streets. I'd met some of the most amazing people I've ever known while homeless, but a gutter rat will fight over scraps. When the police and all of polite society has rejected you, the only safety you have is the safety you make, and it's dangerous to ever look weak, to ever put down your guard. It's dangerous to cry. The gutter rat life is a form of anarchy, perhaps, but it wasn't one that suited me. Karak seemed much the same.
I found the ending powerful and the whole book a wonderful, heartfelt thought experiment in anarchist society. It read to me as informed by both history and theory, as well as imagination. I was reminded of David Graeber's Possibilities: Essays on Hierarchy, Rebellion, and Desire. I think it stands alongside utopian novels like Marge Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time and Ernest Callenbach's Ecotopia. The author's afterword includes astute comments on utopian and dystopian fiction, a perpetual preoccupation of mine:
The purpose, as I understand, of utopian fiction isn't to set out the path to freedom, or even to paint a clear picture of freedom, but instead, to offer an argument that freedom is possible. I don't hate dystopian fiction, but frankly I'm a bit bored by it. It's a bit too safe. Utopia is a bit more dangerous, a bit more threatening to the status quo. It certainly requires making yourself more vulnerable as an author because you intend for your work to be critiqued.
There's an irony here because I believe the opposite is true outside of the written word. Saying what you're for is safe. It's perfectly legal in the United States, as an example, to say that you desire to live in an anarchist society. Taking actual steps towards that - or even just directly confronting any of the ills of this society - is rarely so.
Yet, in fiction, we are surrounded by books about 'what's wrong', because they're easier to write and sell. That doesn't make dystopia a bad genre - it's an important part of the larger literary world. We just have an awful lot more of it.
Ain't that the truth. This became particularly clear to me during the period in 2016/17 when I read sixteen novels found by keyword searching 'dystopia' in the library catalogue. (I wrote this up in my review of the sixteenth, The Silent History.) There are a lot of substandard dystopias out there, as well as fiction described as dystopian that I would classify otherwise (e.g as sci-fi, postapocalyptic, or a fable). Utopian novels are much rarer and tend to be of higher quality. Ada Palmer's Too Like the Lightning and sequels are astonishingly ambitious recent examples of utopian writing. A Country of Ghosts is much more accessible and rather more emotionally engaging. I really enjoyed it and think Killjoy succeeds admirably in putting forward an argument for the possibility of freedom.
December 24, 2022
I bought this book fully understanding the position it would be taking, and in that regard it was exactly what I expected. I want to be clear that I take no issue with the ideology posed here, but this book really sucks.
Naturally in a book like this there are a lot of ideas being raised and discussed, but never are they demonstrated. Instead the author uses laughably unrealistic dialogue as a crutch to get her point across with minimal effort. One character will ask a question (that the author clearly begs to be asked of her personally,) to which another character will respond with an entire 3-point essay as if every conversation is some kind of panel at a conference for anarchist 8th graders. Nothing is shown, everything is told. The art of subtlety has died.
Naturally in a book like this there are a lot of ideas being raised and discussed, but never are they demonstrated. Instead the author uses laughably unrealistic dialogue as a crutch to get her point across with minimal effort. One character will ask a question (that the author clearly begs to be asked of her personally,) to which another character will respond with an entire 3-point essay as if every conversation is some kind of panel at a conference for anarchist 8th graders. Nothing is shown, everything is told. The art of subtlety has died.
April 2, 2024
This book has such a weirdly ominous name, given how basically hopeful it is!
Dimos Horacki is a journalist from the imperialist country of Borolia who gets shipped out to report on the progress of a war. He only has time to witness a handful of the war-crimes committed by hero of the empire Dolan Wilder before Wilder catches on to his not-so-positive views of this and sets him up to get murdered by “bandits”. Instead, he gets captured by the Free Company of the Mountain Heather, a band of guerrilla fighters defending a country Dimos – and Borolia - didn’t know existed (at least as a unit with a shared identity): Hron.
“Hron” means “ghost”, and the name has a long story behind it, but the people there decided to keep it in part because it fit the way that other countries not really being aware of their existence kept them safe. Until now. By the end of the book, it takes on something of another meaning, about an idea that (they hope, the author hopes, and perhaps by then even a skeptical reader will be hoping) will never die:
“We are anarchists, and we are immortal. We are the country of ghosts, and we are immortal. We will fight them until we are dead, and our bones will fight them after. The memory of our existence will fight them…in each of their hearts we will brand the memory that those who are free will never yield. Today, let us be ghosts!”
But between the brutal scenes of battle at the beginning and the end, Killjoy paints quite an appealing picture of a country with no flag, no money, and no formal laws, made up of many villages with separate cultures and one city, and united mainly by an extremely strong belief in voluntary cooperation. The way in which decision-making and exchange happens feels natural and believable…though I do still struggle to picture it working beyond the scale of a smallish city like Hronople, given how heavily the encouragement of good behavior over bad relies on building a good reputation vs. the risk of social ostracization.
It did remind me, though, of how much I tend to like anarchists as people – perhaps because it is hard to embrace that particular political philosophy if you don’t really believe that people are not inherently lazy or untrustworthy, that they should be treated as equals (even though they may have varying talents etc), and that freedom isn’t individual but something that comes with responsibilities to one another. (I mean, obviously there's exceptions - but there seems to be a higher-than-average proportion of the type of person I'd be delighted to have on a group project, y'know?) I actually frequently found myself being reminded of my new favorite group of characters: the Straw Hat pirates from ‘One Piece’. While Luffy may nominally be the captain, the Straw Hats really exhibit a very flat power structure. As “General” Nola describes in this book, different members of the crew take on a leadership role as their specific skills and knowledge become the most useful: Nami in matters of navigation; Chopper for medicine; Zoro, Sanji for tactics, Robin for cultural and historical knowledge, etc. Luffy is mainly the emotionally-intelligent inspiration and “glue” of the group – he’s frequently a moron when it comes to anything else, and doesn’t take issue with his crew, who he regards as family rather than underlings, pointing that out! And any one of them might have said: “Take care of yourself. No, to hell with that, take care of your friends and let them take care of you. Do stupid things for them.” So, yeah, a whole country that encourages people to act like Straw Hats? Sounds good to me!
Although…I might struggle a little with the whole “relying on social pressure” thing, given that I’m autistic and not great with subtler social cues. That came up in another book about an anarchist society, The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia. I think I related to Shevek because he’s a bit like that too. His society IS starting to become a bit more rigid, but people keep saying there aren’t laws, and he’s like “there clearly are, because you’re getting mad at me for breaking them!” At least the people of Hron seem to be pretty direct, to the point of being a tad curmudgeonly; if they’re as good at explaining when they think someone is wrong with each other as with Dimos, I could probably deal with that. The thing with people claiming not to remember what the Accords say, though…IDK. I would want to see them written down, even if, as is said of the pirate code “They’re more what you’d call guidelines, than actual rules!”
The reason this is 4 stars instead of 5 is that there’s rather a lot of telling going on. Not so much that it feels too didactic for my taste. But if it were a slightly longer book, there could have been more things demonstrated to the reader/figured out by Dimos via observation of how the Hronish do things, rather than by it being explained to him. Still, even some of those conversations can be rather fun:
“‘Does it work?’ I asked, “does holding people accountable without trial work?’… ‘Does prison work?’ Varin asked. ‘No,’ I admitted. ‘The Hronish system isn’t perfect,’ Nola said. ‘But it’s a hell of a lot better than anything else I’ve seen.’ ‘Fair,’ I said. ‘And if I can say nothing else about your fine country, I’m quite fond of the prices.’ This was good for a laugh from the drunker of my companions…”
Oh, and there's ostriches in what feel like the-Alps-with-Eastern-European-Flavor. I don't know why. Maybe just to be funny and point out this is not OUR world, but I kept wanting to knit those poor equatorial-climate birds some leg-warmers!
Dimos Horacki is a journalist from the imperialist country of Borolia who gets shipped out to report on the progress of a war. He only has time to witness a handful of the war-crimes committed by hero of the empire Dolan Wilder before Wilder catches on to his not-so-positive views of this and sets him up to get murdered by “bandits”. Instead, he gets captured by the Free Company of the Mountain Heather, a band of guerrilla fighters defending a country Dimos – and Borolia - didn’t know existed (at least as a unit with a shared identity): Hron.
“Hron” means “ghost”, and the name has a long story behind it, but the people there decided to keep it in part because it fit the way that other countries not really being aware of their existence kept them safe. Until now. By the end of the book, it takes on something of another meaning, about an idea that (they hope, the author hopes, and perhaps by then even a skeptical reader will be hoping) will never die:
“We are anarchists, and we are immortal. We are the country of ghosts, and we are immortal. We will fight them until we are dead, and our bones will fight them after. The memory of our existence will fight them…in each of their hearts we will brand the memory that those who are free will never yield. Today, let us be ghosts!”
But between the brutal scenes of battle at the beginning and the end, Killjoy paints quite an appealing picture of a country with no flag, no money, and no formal laws, made up of many villages with separate cultures and one city, and united mainly by an extremely strong belief in voluntary cooperation. The way in which decision-making and exchange happens feels natural and believable…though I do still struggle to picture it working beyond the scale of a smallish city like Hronople, given how heavily the encouragement of good behavior over bad relies on building a good reputation vs. the risk of social ostracization.
It did remind me, though, of how much I tend to like anarchists as people – perhaps because it is hard to embrace that particular political philosophy if you don’t really believe that people are not inherently lazy or untrustworthy, that they should be treated as equals (even though they may have varying talents etc), and that freedom isn’t individual but something that comes with responsibilities to one another. (I mean, obviously there's exceptions - but there seems to be a higher-than-average proportion of the type of person I'd be delighted to have on a group project, y'know?) I actually frequently found myself being reminded of my new favorite group of characters: the Straw Hat pirates from ‘One Piece’. While Luffy may nominally be the captain, the Straw Hats really exhibit a very flat power structure. As “General” Nola describes in this book, different members of the crew take on a leadership role as their specific skills and knowledge become the most useful: Nami in matters of navigation; Chopper for medicine; Zoro, Sanji for tactics, Robin for cultural and historical knowledge, etc. Luffy is mainly the emotionally-intelligent inspiration and “glue” of the group – he’s frequently a moron when it comes to anything else, and doesn’t take issue with his crew, who he regards as family rather than underlings, pointing that out! And any one of them might have said: “Take care of yourself. No, to hell with that, take care of your friends and let them take care of you. Do stupid things for them.” So, yeah, a whole country that encourages people to act like Straw Hats? Sounds good to me!
Although…I might struggle a little with the whole “relying on social pressure” thing, given that I’m autistic and not great with subtler social cues. That came up in another book about an anarchist society, The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia. I think I related to Shevek because he’s a bit like that too. His society IS starting to become a bit more rigid, but people keep saying there aren’t laws, and he’s like “there clearly are, because you’re getting mad at me for breaking them!” At least the people of Hron seem to be pretty direct, to the point of being a tad curmudgeonly; if they’re as good at explaining when they think someone is wrong with each other as with Dimos, I could probably deal with that. The thing with people claiming not to remember what the Accords say, though…IDK. I would want to see them written down, even if, as is said of the pirate code “They’re more what you’d call guidelines, than actual rules!”
The reason this is 4 stars instead of 5 is that there’s rather a lot of telling going on. Not so much that it feels too didactic for my taste. But if it were a slightly longer book, there could have been more things demonstrated to the reader/figured out by Dimos via observation of how the Hronish do things, rather than by it being explained to him. Still, even some of those conversations can be rather fun:
“‘Does it work?’ I asked, “does holding people accountable without trial work?’… ‘Does prison work?’ Varin asked. ‘No,’ I admitted. ‘The Hronish system isn’t perfect,’ Nola said. ‘But it’s a hell of a lot better than anything else I’ve seen.’ ‘Fair,’ I said. ‘And if I can say nothing else about your fine country, I’m quite fond of the prices.’ This was good for a laugh from the drunker of my companions…”
Oh, and there's ostriches in what feel like the-Alps-with-Eastern-European-Flavor. I don't know why. Maybe just to be funny and point out this is not OUR world, but I kept wanting to knit those poor equatorial-climate birds some leg-warmers!
October 28, 2021
"When it started, I think the idea was that the whole concept of having a name, of needing to name your country, really only mattered in the context of comparing ourselves with other societies. And what are ghosts? Ghosts are invisible and you can’t hurt them, but they haunt you by the memory of their presence. The refugees really liked that angle, the idea of being an invisible country that still affects those around it."
For Killjoy, "the purpose of utopian fiction isn't to set out the path of freedom, or even to paint a clear picture of freedom, but instead to offer an argument that freedom is possible." First published in 2014, this novel has a sustained flavour of Ursula Le Guin, although it might not have the same depth. It is fascinating in terms of ideas, reminding me of Anarres of The Dispossessed, but I fear the plot here is treated as a mere vehicle for dissemination. It fares better when thought of as a thought experiment, a new classical vision of earth.
Even though Killjoy doesn't intend the book to be a definitive blueprint but depict just a possibility, it can't help coming off as didactic. It's also erratically paced. The narrative doesn't get room to breathe, chapters jump from incident to incident, and, while the stakes are large, the rapid pace diminishes them. There is warmth in the story, but scarce attention & minimal effort is paid to world-building and characterization. It could have been longer, detailed, and richer. It was easy enough to read and is suitably gripping, but I wanted more, so much more.
(I received a physical arc from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)
April 20, 2022
I discovered in my late teens how much I enjoy utopian stories, and that love has continued throughout my life. This novel is about a utopia of anarchists in a fictional place, set approximately 150 years ago (according to the author's "Afterword") at a time before automobiles but after trains.
The narrator of the story is Dimos Horacki, who is a 23-year-old hack journalist sent to the war front by the major newspaper of the colonializing empire Borolia (think: England) to write a propaganda piece about one of its war heroes (think: someone like General Patton during WWII) in order to rev up support and increase recruiting for the country's colonization of a neighboring geography. To hear the kingdom of Borolia tell it, they are bringing civilization to some squalid backwater.
Dimos falls into the hands of the opposing militia. Turns out, there is an entire country known as Hron that is doing quite fine, thank you very much, without any help from Borolia. Hron is made up of many villages and cities, all inhabited by anarchists, that have entered into an accord of mutual aid. There are problems in Hron as there are anywhere, but they are determined to defend to the last person from the invading Borolian forces.
At heart, this is a story about individual freedom and shared responsibility. I loved it.
The narrator of the story is Dimos Horacki, who is a 23-year-old hack journalist sent to the war front by the major newspaper of the colonializing empire Borolia (think: England) to write a propaganda piece about one of its war heroes (think: someone like General Patton during WWII) in order to rev up support and increase recruiting for the country's colonization of a neighboring geography. To hear the kingdom of Borolia tell it, they are bringing civilization to some squalid backwater.
Dimos falls into the hands of the opposing militia. Turns out, there is an entire country known as Hron that is doing quite fine, thank you very much, without any help from Borolia. Hron is made up of many villages and cities, all inhabited by anarchists, that have entered into an accord of mutual aid. There are problems in Hron as there are anywhere, but they are determined to defend to the last person from the invading Borolian forces.
At heart, this is a story about individual freedom and shared responsibility. I loved it.
December 27, 2019
"If there is a devil in this world, it does its work through hierarchy." (28)
"The most important part of the accord came from the villages, not the revolutionists. The most important part is this: 'All people are free. When we speak of freedom, we acknowledge that freedom is a relationship between the people of a society. This relationship of freedom is created by means of mutual respect, the acknowledgement of one another's autonomy, and the ability to hold one another responsible for their actions. All people are free and all people are responsible to themselves and to one another." (194)
The end made me cry. The book as a whole made me believe in the potential for an anarchist future of the communal values of respect, collective action and mutual aid.
"The most important part of the accord came from the villages, not the revolutionists. The most important part is this: 'All people are free. When we speak of freedom, we acknowledge that freedom is a relationship between the people of a society. This relationship of freedom is created by means of mutual respect, the acknowledgement of one another's autonomy, and the ability to hold one another responsible for their actions. All people are free and all people are responsible to themselves and to one another." (194)
The end made me cry. The book as a whole made me believe in the potential for an anarchist future of the communal values of respect, collective action and mutual aid.
November 5, 2022
ce roman remporte le record de "Mais oui ! Mais tellement !" hautement énoncé de toutes mes lectures. Que cela fait du bien, une bonne littérature engagée, qui porte ses idées de la première à la dernière page, sans aucune faille ni contradiction !
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Très malin, l'ouvrage de Margaret Killjoy mêle récit épique et didactique anarchiste avec brio. Et même si l'on comprend immédiatement que le récit est surtout là pour servir un propos (une introduction à l'anarchie) et moins pour exister en tant que fin, il n'en reste pas moins très agréable à suivre et vous procurera des frissons tout à fait authentiques !
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Sous couvert de fiction, voici une parfaite illustration de la liberté telle qu'elle me plaît et telle que je la comprends collectivement.
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Très malin, l'ouvrage de Margaret Killjoy mêle récit épique et didactique anarchiste avec brio. Et même si l'on comprend immédiatement que le récit est surtout là pour servir un propos (une introduction à l'anarchie) et moins pour exister en tant que fin, il n'en reste pas moins très agréable à suivre et vous procurera des frissons tout à fait authentiques !
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Sous couvert de fiction, voici une parfaite illustration de la liberté telle qu'elle me plaît et telle que je la comprends collectivement.
June 20, 2021
This was a little anarchist gem of a speculative fiction book! A Country of Ghosts by Margaret Killjoy is only 200 pages long but I was completely absorbed from page one. Dimos Horacki is a Borolian journalist embedded in the Imperial Army on the war front of the fictional country of Hron. The world feels a bit 19th century, a bit fantastical, maybe a little steam punk-ey. There are ostrich herds and reconnaissance hot air balloons, plus guns and geothermally heated cities. The story follows Dimos on a bright, sometimes brutal, little found family road trip through a fully realized anarchist country in the context of a war that doesn't pull its punches. I so appreciate the beautiful feat of imagination here, all the queer representation, plus just a great story with wonderful characters. Perhaps a bit of a political parable but one with heavy stakes and a heart of gold.
August 24, 2022
Un pays de fantômes est un roman imparfait et pourtant excellent qui nous laisse le cœur ému et le cerveau en ébullition. C’est presque un manifeste anarchiste par l’utopie, une porte ouverte pour nous autres, humains désillusionnés par notre monde. J’ai trouvé cette lecture passionnante malgré son manichéisme et son histoire sans doute un peu convenue. Parce que l’émotion et le cœur ont pris le pas sur la raison sans doute… Merci Argyll de nous faire découvrir cette voix!
Critique complète sur yuyine.be!
Critique complète sur yuyine.be!
October 12, 2022
Quel coup de coeur ! Un Pays de Fantômes est un livre court et feelgood malgré des thématiques parfois dures, qui fait vivre le rêve anarchiste de la plus belle des manières, avec ses avantages et ses faiblesses. Ses personnages sont hyper vivants malgré le peu de pages pour les développer. Un seul regret, j'aurai aimé en avoir plus 🥰.
Pour ce qui est des thématiques on y retrouvera la dénonciation du colonialisme, les relations lgbt, et bien évidemment le fonctionnement des valeurs libertaires au quotidien, racontées d'un point de vue extérieur.
Pour ce qui est des thématiques on y retrouvera la dénonciation du colonialisme, les relations lgbt, et bien évidemment le fonctionnement des valeurs libertaires au quotidien, racontées d'un point de vue extérieur.
January 10, 2022
Thank you to the publisher for a copy in exchange for a review and promotion. All opinions are my own.
This was so fascinating. I kind of want to move to Hron right now. Also I definitely want more societies like that!
A Country of Ghosts follows journalist Dimos Horacki. He is from Borolia, but is sent to the front lines of the colonial expansion to write about a famous war hero. When Dimos finally makes it to the front, the things he sees disgusts him. When he's sent on a suicide scout mission, he's taken by the Free Company of the Heather. With the Free Company all Dimos has ever known is challenged and he must decide what he is willing to fight for.
I really enjoyed this book and I definitely have not read anything like this before. I've read tons of dystopians and utopias that are actually dystopias. The way the towns and villages of Hron work was so fascinating and I really would like to know more. Dimos grew on me as a character. It was hard to empathize with him when he was so stuck in his own ways. But I enjoyed his curious nature and how he did keep an open mind.
There are queer characters, BIPOC characters and disabled characters on page in this. I loved that the world of Hron wasn't limited by racism, homophobia and the like. One thing that did bother me was that Dimos assumes gender of almost everyone he meets. I feel like in a true utopia, nonbinary people would be everywhere and gender would never be assumed based on expression.
This book really explores the bleakness and violence of colonialism and imperialist conquest. There were times that I felt like all things would be lost because of how thirsty capitalism and colonialism are. The ending did feel realistic, but I also want more. I want to know what happens next!
Rep: white gay male MC, cast of various queer characters and BIPOC characters. No ethnicity/race specified but described as having brown skin. Female side character who uses a wheelchair. Male side chair with one leg.
CWs: Alcohol consumption, blood, colonisation, death, death of parent, genocide, grief, gun violence, injury/injury detail, kidnapping, medical content, murder, violence, war, xenophobia. Moderate: homophobia/homomisia, general queerphobia/queermisia, vomit, tobacco/nicotine addiction, fire/fire injury, abandonment, racial slurs (s-word).
This was so fascinating. I kind of want to move to Hron right now. Also I definitely want more societies like that!
A Country of Ghosts follows journalist Dimos Horacki. He is from Borolia, but is sent to the front lines of the colonial expansion to write about a famous war hero. When Dimos finally makes it to the front, the things he sees disgusts him. When he's sent on a suicide scout mission, he's taken by the Free Company of the Heather. With the Free Company all Dimos has ever known is challenged and he must decide what he is willing to fight for.
I really enjoyed this book and I definitely have not read anything like this before. I've read tons of dystopians and utopias that are actually dystopias. The way the towns and villages of Hron work was so fascinating and I really would like to know more. Dimos grew on me as a character. It was hard to empathize with him when he was so stuck in his own ways. But I enjoyed his curious nature and how he did keep an open mind.
There are queer characters, BIPOC characters and disabled characters on page in this. I loved that the world of Hron wasn't limited by racism, homophobia and the like. One thing that did bother me was that Dimos assumes gender of almost everyone he meets. I feel like in a true utopia, nonbinary people would be everywhere and gender would never be assumed based on expression.
This book really explores the bleakness and violence of colonialism and imperialist conquest. There were times that I felt like all things would be lost because of how thirsty capitalism and colonialism are. The ending did feel realistic, but I also want more. I want to know what happens next!
Rep: white gay male MC, cast of various queer characters and BIPOC characters. No ethnicity/race specified but described as having brown skin. Female side character who uses a wheelchair. Male side chair with one leg.
CWs: Alcohol consumption, blood, colonisation, death, death of parent, genocide, grief, gun violence, injury/injury detail, kidnapping, medical content, murder, violence, war, xenophobia. Moderate: homophobia/homomisia, general queerphobia/queermisia, vomit, tobacco/nicotine addiction, fire/fire injury, abandonment, racial slurs (s-word).
October 21, 2021
Margaret Killjoy is a Jane of all trades including but not limited to podcasting, multiple music projects, leftist prepping how-tos, and writing fiction and nonfiction. I was "first" introduced to her work through finding my way to some of these ventures separately and then discovering the same person was involved. Needless to say, I am a fan. The first thing I read of hers was urban fantasy/horror book, "The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion," that originally landed itself in a long to-read list of mine after tor.com released as part of a free pride LGBT novella pack. I enjoyed it a ton and the next in the series has been sitting almost read in that same thousands-long to-read list of mine. Some day! Until then, I got a chance to read the new edition of "A Country of Ghosts," which was originally written by Killjoy in 2014 and is being republished by AK Press as part of their exciting Black Dawn series. In the afterword for this edition, she goes into detail about all of the reasons this book is more personal for her including the state of her life and health when it was originally written and how the content applies to her worldviews.
One thing she mentions is how it can be more challenging to put out a story that is utopian rather than dystopian in the realm of fiction, particularly in fantasy or science fiction. It's easier to orchestrate a collapse than it is to imagine a functioning non-hierarchical society in all of its guts and glory. "A Country of Ghosts" is about a journalist from a very hierarchical state who becomes embedded within an anarchist refugee community- Hron. The members help him understand why and how they are the way they are. As one can imagine, he begins this venture full of disbelief, having come from somewhere quite different. But, as the story moves forward, he and many other characters grow and learn from one another. This allows the novel to become what I only half jokingly referred to as, "An Anarchist FAQ, only actually entertaining." As Killjoy herself states, this is not the only way to imagine a functioning anarchist society, but it is a way she could imagine it in a fantastical era around 150 years ago.
I'm not a huge classic fantasy person, so for me to enjoy it, it has to really hit home with something very personal the way this did. The fact that most mainstream fantasy is xyz kingdoms at war from hundreds of years ago only with dragons, but no Black and/or LGBTQ people because that's "unrealistic," is what often keeps me away. But, I love science fiction and plenty of mainstream scifi falls into the same trap only you replace dragons with aliens or whatever. ACoG does not fall into most of those tropes, which is part of the draw. Perhaps I just like looking into the future. This book felt like it was looking into the future even though it existed in a fictional past.
My favorite elements were the juxtaposition of freedom vs freedom + responsibility, redemption and moving past rigidity in times of crisis, assimilation of cultures rather than colonization and/or appropriation, how very non-utopian the utopia was (meaning people were still messy as ever and allowed to be,) and the ways that Hron dealt with conflict and extremes without giving up their commitment to anarchism and cooperation. This book is immersed in war, but does not result in an action packed bloodbath. We get to see more of what happens when people are talking and taking care of one another. That said, I would have liked to see the book drawn out a bit more. I think that there are certain areas that feel rushed, but perhaps that is on purpose so that the focus remains on the margins.
I would love to see Margaret Killjoy write a utopian futuristic science fiction novel. It would be interesting to see how she could craft a society and how-to in a world with unavoidable advanced technology and industrialization or how to have a cooperative society composed of multiple species- local and alien. I know that 150 years in the past, a great many people were hunting as part of survival and nonhuman animals did not have a part much in ACoG. In the future, could other animals be introduced in ways aside from as products of sustenance? I am confident that a vegan writer could make that happen. There are so many avenues of creativity that I have seen Killjoy excel at and I look forward to what comes from her future- including the possibility of a prequel to ACoG mentioned in her afterword.
This was also posted to my blog.
One thing she mentions is how it can be more challenging to put out a story that is utopian rather than dystopian in the realm of fiction, particularly in fantasy or science fiction. It's easier to orchestrate a collapse than it is to imagine a functioning non-hierarchical society in all of its guts and glory. "A Country of Ghosts" is about a journalist from a very hierarchical state who becomes embedded within an anarchist refugee community- Hron. The members help him understand why and how they are the way they are. As one can imagine, he begins this venture full of disbelief, having come from somewhere quite different. But, as the story moves forward, he and many other characters grow and learn from one another. This allows the novel to become what I only half jokingly referred to as, "An Anarchist FAQ, only actually entertaining." As Killjoy herself states, this is not the only way to imagine a functioning anarchist society, but it is a way she could imagine it in a fantastical era around 150 years ago.
I'm not a huge classic fantasy person, so for me to enjoy it, it has to really hit home with something very personal the way this did. The fact that most mainstream fantasy is xyz kingdoms at war from hundreds of years ago only with dragons, but no Black and/or LGBTQ people because that's "unrealistic," is what often keeps me away. But, I love science fiction and plenty of mainstream scifi falls into the same trap only you replace dragons with aliens or whatever. ACoG does not fall into most of those tropes, which is part of the draw. Perhaps I just like looking into the future. This book felt like it was looking into the future even though it existed in a fictional past.
My favorite elements were the juxtaposition of freedom vs freedom + responsibility, redemption and moving past rigidity in times of crisis, assimilation of cultures rather than colonization and/or appropriation, how very non-utopian the utopia was (meaning people were still messy as ever and allowed to be,) and the ways that Hron dealt with conflict and extremes without giving up their commitment to anarchism and cooperation. This book is immersed in war, but does not result in an action packed bloodbath. We get to see more of what happens when people are talking and taking care of one another. That said, I would have liked to see the book drawn out a bit more. I think that there are certain areas that feel rushed, but perhaps that is on purpose so that the focus remains on the margins.
I would love to see Margaret Killjoy write a utopian futuristic science fiction novel. It would be interesting to see how she could craft a society and how-to in a world with unavoidable advanced technology and industrialization or how to have a cooperative society composed of multiple species- local and alien. I know that 150 years in the past, a great many people were hunting as part of survival and nonhuman animals did not have a part much in ACoG. In the future, could other animals be introduced in ways aside from as products of sustenance? I am confident that a vegan writer could make that happen. There are so many avenues of creativity that I have seen Killjoy excel at and I look forward to what comes from her future- including the possibility of a prequel to ACoG mentioned in her afterword.
This was also posted to my blog.
Read
November 7, 2023really cool, so easy to become immersed in. kind of didactic but that never took away from the story. i thought of the dispossessed and disco elysium a lot while reading it. can't think of a better way to get an intro to anarchism
Read
October 17, 2021It has already been said, but this is in some respects a steampunk rethink of News From Nowhere with some generous nods to Ursula K. Le Guin. I enjoyed it a lot as a narrative while also liking the care put into showing this imagined utopia without it becoming “preachy.” I might agree with most of the views, but that’s always a tricky balance in this kind of project: to make the world-building part of the narrative rather than exercise unto itself. That’s strong here.
If you’ve already read Margaret’s Danielle Cain series, this is a bit different. Both have “serious” thoughts in them (I know, so does everything...), but it feels more overt in A Country of Ghosts, or as much as I hate phrasing it this way, it read like it was calling on the reader to pay attention and take this seriously. Often literary works do that by making things intentionally difficult (almost “slow down, here, where it’s hard, and pay attention”), but for Killjoy I think it’s by making moments particularly beautiful (instead, “slow down here, where it steps outside of plot to description, and pay attention”). The writing, obviously for a different audience here than the Cain series, has all the clarity of genre prose while also keeping the beauty of small press literary work. That’s also a hard balance, and it really works.
If you’ve already read Margaret’s Danielle Cain series, this is a bit different. Both have “serious” thoughts in them (I know, so does everything...), but it feels more overt in A Country of Ghosts, or as much as I hate phrasing it this way, it read like it was calling on the reader to pay attention and take this seriously. Often literary works do that by making things intentionally difficult (almost “slow down, here, where it’s hard, and pay attention”), but for Killjoy I think it’s by making moments particularly beautiful (instead, “slow down here, where it steps outside of plot to description, and pay attention”). The writing, obviously for a different audience here than the Cain series, has all the clarity of genre prose while also keeping the beauty of small press literary work. That’s also a hard balance, and it really works.
August 20, 2021
Closer to 3 stars, really, but what it lacks in characterization and sustained dramatic and sensual engagement with the world, it makes up for by being one of the very few true utopias in the fantasy genre. An anarchist utopia at that (there's also ostriches). Maybe it's sentimentality, but the fourth star comes easy.
Narratively, it somewhat resembles an old-fashioned utopian novel/essay, but the framing device that is the journalist narrator makes this surprisingly readable – and you can tell that the structure and the spareness are deliberate, that the novel was meant to be short, direct and familiar in form (i.e. utopian in the classical sense), rather than overflowing and in thrall to its own subcreation processes. The writing is strong when the author veers into the everyday reality of anarchist life, which unfortunately is not that often. But hey, other books will do that. This one might not be "The Dispossessed", but it certainly shows that other worlds, and plots, are possible – even in the fantasy genre.
Narratively, it somewhat resembles an old-fashioned utopian novel/essay, but the framing device that is the journalist narrator makes this surprisingly readable – and you can tell that the structure and the spareness are deliberate, that the novel was meant to be short, direct and familiar in form (i.e. utopian in the classical sense), rather than overflowing and in thrall to its own subcreation processes. The writing is strong when the author veers into the everyday reality of anarchist life, which unfortunately is not that often. But hey, other books will do that. This one might not be "The Dispossessed", but it certainly shows that other worlds, and plots, are possible – even in the fantasy genre.
February 10, 2021
actual rating: 3.5
I enjoyed this book but I think I've maybe read a few too many of Killjoy's books in a short amount of time because they are all incredibly similar and while I liked the steampunk setting of this there were a few points in this book where I was just like 'yeah yeah I've heard this before' with some of the anarchism talking points. I do think it delved into a lot of interesting points on the topic though so I decided to round up instead of down. I would just recommend spacing out her books if you're going to read all of them because they really do hit a lot of the same points.
I enjoyed this book but I think I've maybe read a few too many of Killjoy's books in a short amount of time because they are all incredibly similar and while I liked the steampunk setting of this there were a few points in this book where I was just like 'yeah yeah I've heard this before' with some of the anarchism talking points. I do think it delved into a lot of interesting points on the topic though so I decided to round up instead of down. I would just recommend spacing out her books if you're going to read all of them because they really do hit a lot of the same points.
October 10, 2022
Lecture très agréable. "Un pays de fantômes" est une vraie utopie comme on n'en fait plus. Un journaliste déchu est contraint de rédiger des articles de propagandes pro-conquête pour l'empire dans lequel il vit. Mais une fois sur le front, ses convictions déjà fragiles s'étiolent. Est-il vraiment dans le bon camp ? Entre les Boroliens et ces habitants des montagnes prêts à tout pour défendre Hron, leur territoire et leur mode de vie, qui sont vraiment les plus civilisés ?
Ce roman de fantasy politique et anarchiste bien mené saura vous séduire par ses personnages au caractère bien trempé et aux idéaux qui leur servent d'étendard.
Ce roman de fantasy politique et anarchiste bien mené saura vous séduire par ses personnages au caractère bien trempé et aux idéaux qui leur servent d'étendard.
March 30, 2024
Just read a zine. Anarchists provide em in abundance, for a price considerably lower than 200 pages of your time.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 24, 2023
Well, I suppose now I have no choices but to stan Margaret Killjoy – what a glorious name btw.
A Country of Ghosts is a so pretty idea – the idea of an anarchist country, setting in a fantasy world, where people are free. I think this quote summarize best what the goal of Hron is.
“When we speak of freedom, we acknowledge that freedom is a relationship between the people of the society. This relationship of freedom is created by the means of mutual respect, the acknowledgement of one another's autonomy, and the ability to hold one another responsible for their actions. All people are free and all people are responsible to themselves and to one another”
The writing is pleasing, the story short and conceive, and we travel through Horn and discover their way along with Dimos, a journalist coming from the near empire that decided to invade the place. Dimos makes some new friends and learns their way of doing things, confronting it to the only way he knew until now, in the Empire.
I suppose it is a bit too simple to just present the world in black and white, the Empire is bad, the anarchists are good, but even in Hron, we are presented with people who does not fit in and choose another option, presenting their own concept of freedom. That insight was very much appreciate.
Dimos is a touching narrator, forming a bond with the others during his journey with them. I was afraid the characters would only be here to serve the point of the anarchy system only, but they are quite enjoyable and compelling. The world building is actually great; I am delighted by the way Killjoy offers us pieces of lore trough conversations very smoothly. Also, they are so many languages and YES they are acknowledge and at some point Dimos as to spend days with a guy talking a dialect he does not understand, and yes this is the kind of shit I’m in for – realistic linguistic lore baby!
Also I’m an anarchist now, bye
A Country of Ghosts is a so pretty idea – the idea of an anarchist country, setting in a fantasy world, where people are free. I think this quote summarize best what the goal of Hron is.
“When we speak of freedom, we acknowledge that freedom is a relationship between the people of the society. This relationship of freedom is created by the means of mutual respect, the acknowledgement of one another's autonomy, and the ability to hold one another responsible for their actions. All people are free and all people are responsible to themselves and to one another”
The writing is pleasing, the story short and conceive, and we travel through Horn and discover their way along with Dimos, a journalist coming from the near empire that decided to invade the place. Dimos makes some new friends and learns their way of doing things, confronting it to the only way he knew until now, in the Empire.
I suppose it is a bit too simple to just present the world in black and white, the Empire is bad, the anarchists are good, but even in Hron, we are presented with people who does not fit in and choose another option, presenting their own concept of freedom. That insight was very much appreciate.
Dimos is a touching narrator, forming a bond with the others during his journey with them. I was afraid the characters would only be here to serve the point of the anarchy system only, but they are quite enjoyable and compelling. The world building is actually great; I am delighted by the way Killjoy offers us pieces of lore trough conversations very smoothly. Also, they are so many languages and YES they are acknowledge and at some point Dimos as to spend days with a guy talking a dialect he does not understand, and yes this is the kind of shit I’m in for – realistic linguistic lore baby!
Also I’m an anarchist now, bye
January 7, 2024
Words cannot express how much I love this book. How many times have I said that? Probably a lot, but I really mean it every time I say it and this time is no different. Margaret Killjoy’s writing is both relatable and yet the stories she tells clearly take place in a world that is not ours. I will echo the sentiment of her friend and colleague Robert Evans: when you build a fictional world, it has to be familiar enough to be terrifying and unique enough to be intriguing. Margaret Killjoy, as Evans said, builds worlds that marry these aspects effortlessly. Margaret is unapologetic in her writing style, but also wholly aware of the areas in which she is ignorant. This book is everything a person could want in a work of fiction.
November 23, 2014
Dimos, a mainstream but disenchanted journalist, lives in an imperialist nation resembling Victorian Britain. He’s embedded in the army to record them subduing a savage mountain expanse. When he arrives, instead he’s recruited into an anarchist society with a reasonable sense of how to defend itself. Knowing most of this afore, A Country of Ghosts ’twas still not what I expected.
I knew it was an anarchist-utopian-novel,and I thought it would be more like anarchist-utopian-novels I’ve read. Acknowledgements include “Ursula K Le Guin, Starhawk, and Graham Purchase, for exploring this terrain before me.” I’m not familiar with a utopian novel by Graham Purchase, but The Dispossessed by Le Guin and The Fifth Sacred Thing by Starhawk were very different in tone than A Country of Ghosts. Le Guin’s anarcho-planet represents the humanistic wing of sci-fi libertarianism. Starhawk’s sci-fi thriller is rooted in the anarchist tendencies of the peace, ecological, and socialistic movements. Kiljoy’s inspiration is from a contemporary era where, while intersecting with other movements, anarchism is also a movement unto itself. I mean the wave of anarchism appearing in the 1980’s and growing from there, grounded in a punk/post-punk/don’t-you-dare-call-me-a-punk subculture.
A Country of Ghosts the first such utopian novel I know of from this perspective, so I think it an important book. If it is that original, for me original means valiant, and thus I think A Country of Ghosts a valiant book.
A brief introduction, titled “Introducing the Anarchist Imagination,” makes it clear, there’ll be no attempt to pass off this anarchist propaganda as “literature” for its own sake. Rather than create a didactic feel, however, this makes the story fast-paced and fun. Dimos’s anarchist education often takes the form of Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions (A Mad Magazine publication). While this doesn’t seriously try to convince a skeptical reader that a volunteer economy would work on a national scale, the bumper sticker reasoning is cute, clever, and moves the story along. My favorite is when Dimos runs out of tobacco, and no one has any for him. “Did you ban tobacco?” No, but no one has any reason to grow it without a profit-from-addiction motive!
I must admit ’twasn’t ’til at least the 3rd chapter that I was hooked. I’m now more skeptical than ever of the “first chapter is the last chapter is disguise” adage. The first chapter is written from the perspective of after the novel, thus Margaret foreshadows the direction of the novel. But the unpredictability, and thus the realism, of violence is one of this novel’s real strengths.
Also, from the retrospective point of view, Dimos has to justify his pre-anarchist self. This tone reminds me of hardcore anarchist youth denying their normal high school background in embarrassment. In the context of a capitalist-imperialist society, the first person narrator talks like “wearing a fine bustle that gave her body the S-curve that society demanded of women,” again reminding me of a new arrival at the infoshop desperate to prove their anti-oppression credentials.
But don’t give up. Once Dimos joins the anarchist guerrillas, the story takes off, and you’ll be grateful for the context the awkward first chapters provided.
Killjoy’s anarchists heroes are not saints, and they’ve neither time nor interest for a crisis of idealism. That sort of thing is a major conflict in the above-mentioned anarchistic classics, where the reader’s supposed to agonize with them over their ethics. In A Country of Ghosts, these mountain people make no apologies for being blunt or even ruthless when they gotta be.
Yet this ruthlessness and the acceptance of violence as part of life was troubling to read. And unexpected, as violent resistance is new in anarchist-utopian novels; in The Fifth Sacred Thing utopia was expressly pacifist, and in The Dispossessed violence seemed to be “the last resort of the incompetent” (I quote Le Guin’s contemporary Asimov), and never be very helpful.
I do get the anarchist logic; when they kill helpless surrendering soldiers, I remember that no one is ever imprisoned for anything in this society, and the mountain people do not have different words for murder and execution. Overall society is less violent than the governed nations or the real cultures they’re based on, and a character’s amends for a drunken homicide is a major thread.
I’m also aware that most war stories downplay the cruelty of the heroic side, a practice that a writer named Killjoy might stridently eschew. Yet not only is the anarchists brutality up front, the suffering they endure in a principled war against a powerful and merciless foe is not downplayed, so the enterprise feels at least as sad as glorious.
Nonetheless, the heroes might be more sympathetic if they showed mixed feelings about their heroic violence once in a while.
Again, this is an important novel. It breaks boundaries and creates new ones.
I knew it was an anarchist-utopian-novel,and I thought it would be more like anarchist-utopian-novels I’ve read. Acknowledgements include “Ursula K Le Guin, Starhawk, and Graham Purchase, for exploring this terrain before me.” I’m not familiar with a utopian novel by Graham Purchase, but The Dispossessed by Le Guin and The Fifth Sacred Thing by Starhawk were very different in tone than A Country of Ghosts. Le Guin’s anarcho-planet represents the humanistic wing of sci-fi libertarianism. Starhawk’s sci-fi thriller is rooted in the anarchist tendencies of the peace, ecological, and socialistic movements. Kiljoy’s inspiration is from a contemporary era where, while intersecting with other movements, anarchism is also a movement unto itself. I mean the wave of anarchism appearing in the 1980’s and growing from there, grounded in a punk/post-punk/don’t-you-dare-call-me-a-punk subculture.
A Country of Ghosts the first such utopian novel I know of from this perspective, so I think it an important book. If it is that original, for me original means valiant, and thus I think A Country of Ghosts a valiant book.
A brief introduction, titled “Introducing the Anarchist Imagination,” makes it clear, there’ll be no attempt to pass off this anarchist propaganda as “literature” for its own sake. Rather than create a didactic feel, however, this makes the story fast-paced and fun. Dimos’s anarchist education often takes the form of Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions (A Mad Magazine publication). While this doesn’t seriously try to convince a skeptical reader that a volunteer economy would work on a national scale, the bumper sticker reasoning is cute, clever, and moves the story along. My favorite is when Dimos runs out of tobacco, and no one has any for him. “Did you ban tobacco?” No, but no one has any reason to grow it without a profit-from-addiction motive!
I must admit ’twasn’t ’til at least the 3rd chapter that I was hooked. I’m now more skeptical than ever of the “first chapter is the last chapter is disguise” adage. The first chapter is written from the perspective of after the novel, thus Margaret foreshadows the direction of the novel. But the unpredictability, and thus the realism, of violence is one of this novel’s real strengths.
Also, from the retrospective point of view, Dimos has to justify his pre-anarchist self. This tone reminds me of hardcore anarchist youth denying their normal high school background in embarrassment. In the context of a capitalist-imperialist society, the first person narrator talks like “wearing a fine bustle that gave her body the S-curve that society demanded of women,” again reminding me of a new arrival at the infoshop desperate to prove their anti-oppression credentials.
But don’t give up. Once Dimos joins the anarchist guerrillas, the story takes off, and you’ll be grateful for the context the awkward first chapters provided.
Killjoy’s anarchists heroes are not saints, and they’ve neither time nor interest for a crisis of idealism. That sort of thing is a major conflict in the above-mentioned anarchistic classics, where the reader’s supposed to agonize with them over their ethics. In A Country of Ghosts, these mountain people make no apologies for being blunt or even ruthless when they gotta be.
Yet this ruthlessness and the acceptance of violence as part of life was troubling to read. And unexpected, as violent resistance is new in anarchist-utopian novels; in The Fifth Sacred Thing utopia was expressly pacifist, and in The Dispossessed violence seemed to be “the last resort of the incompetent” (I quote Le Guin’s contemporary Asimov), and never be very helpful.
I do get the anarchist logic; when they kill helpless surrendering soldiers, I remember that no one is ever imprisoned for anything in this society, and the mountain people do not have different words for murder and execution. Overall society is less violent than the governed nations or the real cultures they’re based on, and a character’s amends for a drunken homicide is a major thread.
I’m also aware that most war stories downplay the cruelty of the heroic side, a practice that a writer named Killjoy might stridently eschew. Yet not only is the anarchists brutality up front, the suffering they endure in a principled war against a powerful and merciless foe is not downplayed, so the enterprise feels at least as sad as glorious.
Nonetheless, the heroes might be more sympathetic if they showed mixed feelings about their heroic violence once in a while.
Again, this is an important novel. It breaks boundaries and creates new ones.
June 29, 2016
There are a lot of great things I can say about this book. The thoughtful portrayal of its war-weary protagonist is the real gem in this fantastical examination of a anarchistic society. Dimos Horacki is a journalist, presenting us with >his< admittedly biased view of a war between an imperialist state and a country of free thinking individualists who barely consider themselves an organized nation.
Killjoy is a pleasure to read, blending classic science fiction with an evolved view of society's responsibility to itself. I felt like I was reading early James Morrow or Doc Smith, and my greatest regret was putting the book down to sleep at night.
Expect your horizons to broaden when you pick up this book. Expect your views to be challenged, and challenged again.
And expect to read more from Margaret Killjoy. They're going places you want to be.
Killjoy is a pleasure to read, blending classic science fiction with an evolved view of society's responsibility to itself. I felt like I was reading early James Morrow or Doc Smith, and my greatest regret was putting the book down to sleep at night.
Expect your horizons to broaden when you pick up this book. Expect your views to be challenged, and challenged again.
And expect to read more from Margaret Killjoy. They're going places you want to be.
December 12, 2021
An impressive exploration of politics and humanity. Hard to believe how much Killjoy does with such a short book. Truly excellent.
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