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ricardienne) wrote2010-11-29 10:31 pm
ricardienne) wrote2010-11-29 10:31 pm
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Cryoburn
I was supposed to spend tonight either figuring out how to approach my final history paper (the most viable approach at this point is less than ideal) or/and working on my final prose-comp project. I read Cryoburn instead.
I was going along cheerfully, amused at how I had nailed the inchoative Vorlynkin-Sato romance from an exceedingly early point (before she entered the picture, actually) and at how it had taken me until midway chapter 15 to realize that I had been mentally put Vorlynkin into the "Roman consul" slot and not the "modern diplmat who's title is consul" slot, and being gleeful at the little snippet of life back chez Vorkosigan and Mark et Kareen Ex Machina, and then...
...oh LMB, I should have seen it coming, foreshadowed with Taura (I had been taken aback at that particular bit of infodump), constantly suggested with Mark and Miles' cheerful plans for their father's future and past and Miles' musings about Aral's family and family memory and almost necessitated with the constant thematic thump of What Eternal Life or the Promise of Geriatric Zombies Will Do To The Next Generation.* But I didn't actually believe that you would do it until Vorventa appeared in formal dress, and I had a flashback to that previous book where Miles talks about his worst fear, and now I am rather unsettled.
I'm not sure how I feel about the resort to the quintessentially fannish medium of the drabble afterward, but they were well done.
In general, I liked this book so much more than Diplomatic Immunity, largely, I think, because of Jin and Mina. Jin especially was an excellent narrative center and counterpoint to Miles, and I think LMB is at her best when she is writing about ordinary life in all of its future ugliness and dissatisfaction. Jin was a scrappy little hero in the vaguely Victorian world of haves and have nots that populates the Vorkosigan-verse, and I loved the rather sad little counterpoint of his and his sister's fairy-tale hopes and the moment when they come face to face with Miles' rather oblivious and well-meaning privilege.
*This post should be a think-y analysis of what this book from a US author is doing at this particular moment when Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security are so much in the US news, especially as regards the hints at economic inequality, but I'm not qualified to be the one making that post.
I was going along cheerfully, amused at how I had nailed the inchoative Vorlynkin-Sato romance from an exceedingly early point (before she entered the picture, actually) and at how it had taken me until midway chapter 15 to realize that I had been mentally put Vorlynkin into the "Roman consul" slot and not the "modern diplmat who's title is consul" slot, and being gleeful at the little snippet of life back chez Vorkosigan and Mark et Kareen Ex Machina, and then...
...oh LMB, I should have seen it coming, foreshadowed with Taura (I had been taken aback at that particular bit of infodump), constantly suggested with Mark and Miles' cheerful plans for their father's future and past and Miles' musings about Aral's family and family memory and almost necessitated with the constant thematic thump of What Eternal Life or the Promise of Geriatric Zombies Will Do To The Next Generation.* But I didn't actually believe that you would do it until Vorventa appeared in formal dress, and I had a flashback to that previous book where Miles talks about his worst fear, and now I am rather unsettled.
I'm not sure how I feel about the resort to the quintessentially fannish medium of the drabble afterward, but they were well done.
In general, I liked this book so much more than Diplomatic Immunity, largely, I think, because of Jin and Mina. Jin especially was an excellent narrative center and counterpoint to Miles, and I think LMB is at her best when she is writing about ordinary life in all of its future ugliness and dissatisfaction. Jin was a scrappy little hero in the vaguely Victorian world of haves and have nots that populates the Vorkosigan-verse, and I loved the rather sad little counterpoint of his and his sister's fairy-tale hopes and the moment when they come face to face with Miles' rather oblivious and well-meaning privilege.
*This post should be a think-y analysis of what this book from a US author is doing at this particular moment when Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security are so much in the US news, especially as regards the hints at economic inequality, but I'm not qualified to be the one making that post.