So, for those that have read the Bolo-verse, this will probably seem pretty irreverent and ill-informed. I was only passingly familiar with this series before I read this book. To say 'incredible' in every sense of the word is my response. I think the only comparison I can draw is a passing familiarity with hard sci-fi in general or the sort of unimaginable scope in stories such as the fiction of Warhammer 40,000.
To those who don't know, the Bolo is some kind of super main battle tank developed and sent into the warzones of an alternate year 2000 (as the original stories were written in the seventies). From the technical specifications (helpfully provided in the back of the book, fully thirty four pages) these tanks seemed to start at 'mobile fortress' and end somewhere around 'Battleship sized army annihilating demigods,' sometimes in roughly that description. And they are, annihilating armies, with impressive detail of just how the various weapons systems and technologies are being used. This is strange, because as much as the book is about war machines, much of their stories are about how... Uh... Well... Tanks learn to love.
Don't get me wrong, that's extremely amusing, it's just a little confusing to me. I've heard from friends all the standard stuff about this series, so I was ready for detailed descriptions of engagements and tanks with more weapons than most modern countries, but seeing how oddly human the tanks could be portrayed was certainly unexpected. Their AIs seemed painfully aware of their design and function as a weapon of war, but they found very conflicting emotions shoved into that AI: maintaining professionalism when dealing with a superior officer one happens to have fallen for, being forced to hunt down a comrade who's seemingly gone crazy. Their human 'commanders' take such lessons with them as well. Launching a nuclear strike? Easy for a Bolo, but how does the Bolo handle emotional trauma, an 'enemy' not so easily dispatched?
Do I find it a little silly? Certainly. I honestly went into the book expecting purely ironic enjoyment. The introduction of hyper intelligent AI, however, did seem to introduce something new to me, that being an AI that doesn't 'go rogue' as it were. So many stories about intelligences superior to humanity seem to focus on the idea that humanity will quickly be subjugated by them, this book seems to posit that not only will they not, but in fact they'll become devoted to us. Does that twist into obsession? Does the influence of it's creators shape the machine or is it the other way around? Is it better or worse for that? Is it possible to consider something a someone, even to the point of attraction or even full blown romantic affection or real, genuine love? Perhaps difficult to consider in context, but having read and been influenced by it, could the answers to those questions change how a reader sees the things that surround them?
While I must admit, I don't make a habit of reading hard sci-fi stories, often for reasons that make a presence in this book. I don't think focusing on a precise technical readout is terribly interesting, and as much as warfare isn't always the focus of a hard sci fi story, to me much of it seems to devolve into so many laser blasts and fancy weapon names. That said, I think I enjoy the human element of these stories enough that the sharp contrast of the combat scenes don't curb my interest. I do feel a little lost in the narrative at times, vast jumps in time only described seemingly after important details have been established. That said, I guess those complaints are fairly minor compared to what I see as the stories' point.
I would not recommend this series for everyone, that said I would say if one is open to new things and isn't familiar with these works that this isn't a bad place to start. It was, not to quote a certain movie, an unexpected journey.