Tag Archives: local custom

Ghost Ship – Chapter 27

Jelaza Kazone
Surebleak

In which preparations are made for dinner.

The scene where Val Con drives Theo to Jelaza Kazone echoes scenes from earlier books, among them Er Thom driving Anne and Daav driving Aelliana. The similarities, of course, highlight the differences – such as the considerably less accommodating road.

(I’m not entirely sure about the idea of building a bridge over the worst stretch of road to save the Bosses risking their cars on it: how if someone were to destroy the bridge and trap everyone at the wrong end of the Road? But then Miri does say someone will be keeping an eye on the bridge; I suppose somebody would be keeping an eye on that stretch of road in any case.)

I’m not sure Val Con isn’t sending Theo into battle insufficiently armed, by telling her the dress code is “informal” and not telling her what that really means. On the other hand, given that there’s not enough space left in the schedule to dig stuff out of house stores, and that therefore Theo is going to have to go in what she’s got anyhow, maybe telling her would only give her an extra half hour of worrying about not measuring up, with nothing useful to be done about it.

Agent of Change – Chapter 19

In which a Turtle on urgent business is no trifling thing.

Edger demonstrates that, while the Clutch are not inclined to rush into anything, they’re capable of acting rapidly and decisively when the situation calls for it. And that, if they’re slow to come to a conclusion, that just means that they’ve given it a lot of thought, not that they’re stupid.

Every time we get a mention of Val Con’s minor telekinetic ability, I go back and check the chapter near the end of Mouse and Dragon, and every time the chapter stubbornly continues to be about young Pat Rin being discovered to possess a minor telekinetic ability. I don’t see how that could be the result of a confusion, so I suppose we must take it that they both possess a minor telekinetic ability. I still wonder what happened to Pat Rin’s.

I don’t believe a word of the stuff about electron substitution as a basis for Val Con’s enhanced psychic abilities, by the way, but it’s part of a grand tradition in space opera of using post-Newtonian physics as a handwave for all kinds of entertaining nonsense and I’m prepared to run with it. (Since I’ve raised the subject, though, I’d like to take this opportunity to recommend the essay on What Quantum Physics Is Not from Chad Orzel’s book How to Explain Physics to Your Dog, which is educational, clearly written, and features an evil mirror-universe squirrel with a goatee.)

Saltation – Chapter 31

Hugglelans Planetary
Conglomeration of Portcalay
Eylot

In which Theo shakes the dust of Eylot from her feet.

Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and I really don’t think “Theo’s annual discovery that she’s underestimated Hugglelans” is going to become a running joke, if only because there’s not much further it can go. (“Really, Theo? Did you think Hugglelans was just this universe? Listen: there’s a very nice universe next door…”)

Aito in this mode really does remind one of Theo’s father, and his family somewhat of Theo’s father’s family. I’m pretty sure House Hugglelans is Terran — surely something would have been said by now if they weren’t — but it seems like they’ve picked up a thing or two by living this long on a half-Liaden world. The fact that, as we now learn, they too are a family of ships and pilots, likely also has something to do with it. (Though, at that, they’re not ships and pilots in precisely the same way; I can’t see Theo’s father’s family ever adopting the strategy of making a paying business out of their support structures, because it would mean tying themselves to stationary infrastructure, and their fundamental ethos is basically a large-scale version of the pilot packing rule about being able to depart at short notice without leaving anything important behind.)

Saltation – Chapter 24

Diverse Cultures Celebration Team
Anlingdin Piloting Academy

In which Theo and Kara discuss custom.

The healer Theo met before puts in another appearance, with the moment when he settles Yberna confirming both that he’s a Healer and that Theo doesn’t know enough about Healers to recognise one at work. His name is el’Kemin, a name which is not unfamiliar; there was a Syntebra el’Kemin in Local Custom, who through no fault of her own was briefly affianced to a pilot who wanted her no more than she wanted him. She was made uneasy, not to say terrified, in the company of pilots, an affliction it would seem is not shared by all her kin.

The Young Pilots of Eylot sound like trouble, and not just for the Culture Club. History has a bad record with patriotic organisations called the Young Whatever; that’s almost as bad a sign as “Democratic People’s Republic”.

Fledgling – Chapter 42

Number Twelve Leafydale Place
Greensward-by-Efraim
Delgado

In which Theo turns fifteen.

This is one of those cases where I don’t feel inspired to talk about any of the things I might have talked about if I were reading the novel for the first time, and there weren’t many new things I noticed. Although I did notice this time Jen Sar’s fishing trip in the mountains, which I suspect was at least partly intended to lay a foundation for a tale to tell anyone who asks where the idea of the old-style Gigneri came from.

I will note that this is another novel I like more after this re-read than I thought I did after I read it the first time.

It’s not easy to establish precisely when Fledgling takes place, due to a lack of outside referents. From Theo’s age we know that it’s more than fifteen years since Jen Sar came to Delgado at the end of Mouse and Dragon — but, as Theo points out in this chapter, that’s Delgadan years, and we have no indication of whether those are longer or shorter than Standard Years, let alone by how much. All we can say with confidence is that it’s after Jen Sar’s last scene in Mouse and Dragon and before his first appearance in Plan B. (The suggested reading order by internal chronology on the authors’ web site places Fledgling after Plan B, but that’s a clear case of bending chronology for the good of the story flow and reading experience, making it in effect an entire novel-length flashback; there is no possible way Jen Sar’s scenes in Plan B happen before Fledgling.) The positions I’ve given Fledgling and Saltation in this re-read are approximations achieved by starting at the end of Saltation and counting backwards based on my memory of what occurs in them; I’m taking notes as I re-read and hopefully I’ll end up with a less approximate idea of how much time they cover. (But when I publish my own suggested reading order by internal chronology at the end of the re-read, it’s likely I’ll be adopting the strategy of bending chronology for the good of the story flow and reading experience, the good sense of which becomes more apparent to me the further the re-read progresses.)


Tomorrow: Saltation

Fledgling – Chapter 40

Vashtara
Mauve Level
Stateroom

In which Jen Sar attends a meeting.

I’ve said before that one of the things I’m enjoying about doing this re-read is being able to trace connections and find repeated names that I wouldn’t have noticed at the speed I normally read. In this chapter, the familiar name is Professor Skilings, revealed here as one of the conspirators, but already known to us from Chapter Sixteen as a high-ranking member of the faculty with a reputation for being a bad enemy to people who gain her enmity, and also incidentally the lady whose play for Jen Sar, though unrewarded, inspired Kamele to place her relationship with him on an official footing.

Sub-Chancellor Kylin’s name, on the other hand, doesn’t ring any bells.

It’s interesting that Jen Sar’s response to having a gun brandished at him is to hide behind the furniture. It’s possible that he’s playing it safe, since the years he’s spent living on a safe world might after all have dulled his edge to the point that he can’t be sure of being able to handle the situation, but don’t think I believe that, and I rather suspect he’s playing safe more because nobody on Delgado knows that he has experience being at the wrong end of a gun, and he’d prefer to keep it that way.

Kamele’s hand gestures, the ones which Theo finds reminiscent of hand-talk without being actual signs she recognises, might be Liaden gestures Kamele has picked up off Jen Sar. I seem to recall similar hand gestures being used by Liadens in conversation in past stories; the clearing-away gesture in particular sounds familiar.

Fledgling – Chapter 12

Cultural Genetics Program
Bjornson-Bellevale College of Arts and Sciences
University of Delgado

In which Theo has dinner with her father.

So, like I was saying, after that brief moment of peace and domestic harmony, comes… more peace and domestic harmony? Whatever storm this is the calm before must be really awful.

With Kartor getting a surname this chapter, all of Four Team Three are now equipped with names both fore- and sur-.

The uncharacteristic clumsiness of Theo’s father is definitely suggestive to a reader familiar with the wider Liaden universe; we saw his old teacher pull the same trick back in Scout’s Progress.

It also brings on an observation which I’m sure is influenced by me remembering things that haven’t happened yet, but I’m going to pass it on anyway: Theo was able to catch both the objects Professor Kiladi dropped without any difficulty. Conversely, every incident of her supposed clumsiness we’ve seen has involved colliding or tangling with a person — a trend reinforced by her self-description in chapter nine. This doesn’t mean that Theo isn’t the problem, since she’s still the common thread among the incidents, but it does suggest that the problem isn’t so much a lack of control of her own movements as a flaw in her understanding of the movements of others. Put her in the middle of a crowd of people and trouble is bound to follow, but give her an inanimate object moving according to the basic laws of physics, and she’s fine.

Fledgling – Chapter 3

Fourth Form Ready Room
Professor Stephen M. Richardson Secondary School
University of Delgado

In which Theo goes to school and learns something helpful.

It’s the return of our old friend, The Scene Where The Heroine Looks In A Mirror. At least this one does a reasonable job of staying inside the viewpoint character’s head. (And now I’m trying to remember whether we’ve ever had a scene where any of the male characters looks in a mirror for the benefit of the readers. I don’t recall any, but I’m willing to believe that that’s a fault in my memory rather than in the story-telling.)

I’m not sure I approve of that clock. It would depend to some extent on whether everybody is given the same amount of time between the first announcement and the note being made in their file, and what happens to people who are genuinely incapable of getting out of bed quickly. Either way, it’s the first of several details in this chapter that are starting to build up a picture of Delgado as a society that pays really close attention to whether its citizens are doing What’s Good For Them.

Fledgling – Chapter 1

Number Twelve Leafydale Place
Greensward-by-Efraim
Delgado

In which Theo Waitley has to leave home.

A new novel, and a new character — and also some old ones, as Theo’s parents are Kamele Waitley and Jen Sar Kiladi, who we last saw newly-acquainted at the end of Mouse and Dragon.

Part of the interest of reading Fledgling the first time, for me, was seeing the way the authors expanded on hints about Kiladi’s life on Delgado that had been given in other stories written earlier but set later: Kiladi’s office; Theo; the family tradition about Delm Korval, which is rather different and somewhat more complicated than the first-published mention of it suggested… and Kamele Waitley, who was honestly a complete surprise to me (for reasons I think I’ll save for when she actually appears).

This chapter also contains the first mentions of several new details about Delgado that will continue to unfold over the course of the novel, including the Office of Safety, the Chapelia, and the matriarchal system in which Theo is her mother’s daughter and Jen Sar’s relationship with them both continues only so long as Kamele chooses to continue it.

With the benefit of knowing what’s coming, I can see and appreciate the clever dance the authors have done to distract the reader from the fact that we’re not shown where Coyster went at the end of the chapter.

Am I alone in really wanting to read those books on Theo’s shelf?

Certain Symmetry

In which Pat Rin executes the will of Fal Den ter’Antod.

The other reason I placed “Shadow Partner” before “A Day in the Races” was that I knew this was up next, and it follows on from the end of “A Day at the Races” in a way that I felt would go better without another story intervening.

This is one of my favourite Liaden short stories. It has several shining personalities in it, not least of them Pat Rin himself. I also admit a certain fondness for the sense of humour evinced by the man in the back room, though I’m not keen on the nature of his work.

(A couple of side notes about Pat Rin: First, his field as a gamer is again cards and not dice. Second, there’s a nice though not surprising bit of continuity in the names that appear in Pat Rin’s social circle; in particular, the names of yo’Lanna and bel’Urik, which also appeared in yos’Phelium’s social calendar in the days when Daav was delm.)

This story also has a special place in my regard for another reason: it is the story which brought me to a conscious understanding that Liadens have a number of cultural hang-ups regarding the face, which brought together and shone new light on all the moments in other stories where Liadens were careful not to look another person too long full in the face, or felt distress at meeting someone whose face was distinctly marked (whether by dirt, injury, or deliberate decoration), or sought privacy before wiping a sweaty brow or rubbing a sore nose.

And I recall the sense of epiphany when I realised that this is not just an arbitrary bit of alien culture, but is complemented by the other famous marker of Liaden culture, the use of modes and bows to express thoughts and emotions — or, to put it another way, the fact that in Liaden speech all the messages that a Terran might convey through facial expression are transferred to other parts of the body. Terrans in conversation have to pay close attention to each other’s faces or they’ll miss part of what’s going on; in Liaden culture it’s impolite to pay close attention to another person’s face — and communication has been arranged so that it’s possible to carry out a conversation without doing so.


Tomorrow: “This House”