NPR: But this book is sneaky. As much as you want to think this is just some lightweight little confection made of robot fights and space murder and as much as All Systems Red wants to present itself as nothing but robot fights and space murder Martha Wells did something really clever. She hid a delicate, nuanced and deeply, grumpily human story inside these pulp trappings, by making her murderous robot story primarily character-driven. And the character doing the driving?
Murderbot.
There are subtexts to be read into Murderbot that its experience is a coming-out narrative, that it mirrors the lives of trans people, immigrants, those on the autism spectrum or anyone else who feels the need to hide some essential part of themselves from a population that either threatens or can’t possibly understand them. Or both. And I get all of that because every one of those reads is right.
It’s the wonder of the character that something so alien can be so human. That everyone who has ever had to hide in a crowded room, avert their eyes from power, cocoon themselves in media for comfort or lie to survive can relate. It’s powerful to see that on the page. It’s moving to ride around in the head of something that is so strong and so vulnerable, so murder-y and so frightened, all at the same time.
Best news of all? All Systems Red is only the first of four Murderbot Diaries novellas. Wells followed Red with Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol and Exit Strategy, all of which have gotten multiple electronic, hard- and softcover releases over the past year or so, with the Red hardcover being released this month after winning Hugo, Nebula, Alex and Locus Awards in 2018. Which is proof, I suppose, that I’m not alone in my love for Murderbot. That we are all a little bit Murderbot. That we see ourselves in its skin. And that reading about this sulky, soap-opera-loving cyborg killing machine might be one of the most human experiences you can have in sci-fi right now.
Locus: This book is in conversation with a number of others, first of all with Bear’s own—this future is tied to her Jacob’s Ladder trilogy (Dust, Chill, and Grail) via a mention of that “famous ship from history.” There are also strong echoes of C.J. Cherryh and Iain M. Banks—especially the latter, since the Synarche is clearly a cousin of the Culture: an ancient, galaxy-spanning, multi-species polity dedicated to what we might call rational and utopian values (also prone to snarky ship names, e.g., the Synarche Justice Vessel I’ll Explain It To You Slowly). That, in turn, connects with Haimey’s debates with Farweather about freedom and authenticity, which echo Greg Egan’s frequent examinations of ways of engineering the self (e.g., “Chaff” or “Mister Volition”).
Library Journal: When the humans decided to strike against the terra indigene, they were hit with a force that decimated all the people living in towns in Thaisia. Now both humans and Othersthose who survivedattempt to revive some of the ruined areas for cooperative living. In Bennett, Jana Paniccia becomes deputy to a Wolfgard sheriff who holds bitter memories of the humans’ actions. Tolya Sanguinati attempts to build relationships with the town of Prairie Gold, and Inuit shopkeeper Jesse Walker, while restoring Bennett and monitoring the area’s train service. As humans slowly come into Bennett, so do Others, all looking for a place of their own. But trust takes time, and when the Blackstone clan tries to take over, everyone in Bennett will need to work together.
Bookseller: A cinematic novel that perfectly blends funny and emotional. Some friendships are larger than life.
