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The Citadel of Weeping Pearls and The Tea Master and the Detective by Aliette de Bodard

3/5. A pair of novellas in her universe featuring mindships and a large interstellar empire and tea and other stuff. The second one got a lot of traction for being yet another, my god when will we ever stop please I'm begging you, Sherlock Holmes Pastiche, where Watson is a traumatized mindship that brews teas that effect brain chemistry. These are extremely of their era. Like I was able to guess the exact year of publication for one of them of their era. They're intensely of a piece with Leckie's first trilogy and Yoon Ha Lee and Murderbot, in a sense, and I suspect readers of the future might not find these novellas particularly rewarding if they don't have a rich background in the context.

But anyway, these were entertaining, and I did genuinely like the nindships and how it is culturally understood that the child you carry and birth and that immediately becomes a shipmind is no less your child, and continues to be part of the family for generations to come. It doesn't always work out exactly like that but, well, when does it.
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And thus begins a year of reading only women. Or, more accurately, not reading men.

The House of Shattered Wings

4/5. House politics and old curses in alt history post war Paris ruled largely by fallen angels.

This novel is basically manga. Just, you know, *gestures*, the esthetics of the thing. This book is all fallen-down churches, and underwater dragons in the Seine, and trees squeezing buildings to death, and fallen angels wearing wings made of metal and blades.

I would have said, if I'd known what I was getting into, that this isn't my sort of thing. But this worked for me anyway. These fallen angels don't remember why they fell, or much of what came before; they cannot expect miracles or answered prayers, and there is a hole in their lives where God no longer is. The whole book is, in the negative spaces, about that lack, without ever being particularly about religion, if you get me. It's a book about being betrayed, and falling from grace, and falling….and falling. The same story plays out a good half dozen times here, with the angels and their God, with the angels and their students, with a soldier and his emperor, and each person falls in their own way.

Lovely, with a flavor of decaying decadence about it. Not my thing, and yet somehow my thing.

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