A Memory Called Empire is a tour-de-force, sweeping you into a complex story and brilliantly rendered culture. From the start, a new ambassador must tread carefully through the treachery of a predecessor suddenly deceased. Answers are hard to find, allies are difficult to determine, and dangers are lurking where least expected. It’s part murder mystery, part high-tech sci-fi, and part political intrigue amidst a highly advanced culture. All of these pieces are essential to this complex story.

Worldbuilding is the cornerstone of A Memory Called Empire, one that Martine has perfected. The world of Teixcalaan is infinite in its layers and intrigue. At the highest level, we see the intricacies of the political system and how a single society was able to spread across the universe, colonizing planet after planet. There’s a veneration for the Emperor akin to ancient civilizations, with loads of mysticism around the inner circle and those who reside there. What seems to be a highly civilized political structure at the beginning is, in reality, quite barbaric, with political players whispering around corners and military commanders vying for rule through shows of force.

The deeper societal layers are the real gems. Martine hasn’t stopped at writing passages from a few history books. She has created a full society, thoughtfully and so thoroughly that it’s breathtaking. We see the complexities of naming conventions along with the many greeting rituals and expectations based on one’s place in society. Linguistically, there’s a complex language at play, filled with alternate meanings and thousands of possible flubs just waiting in the wings. Culturally, we see a strong religious tradition, a fascinating architectural history, and impressive technological advances that are both familiar and unique. We even get to imagine the common street foods found in the City. This is complete worldbuilding like I’ve rarely seen and it shines on every page.

A Memory Called Empire is many things. It’s a nail-biting murder mystery. It’s a political powerhouse of a novel. It’s an ode to the tiny details that make a fictional world come to life. Above all, it’s a brilliant novel that impresses at every turn.

This is an extremely dense book - not one you pick up and read straight through. I found that I often needed a break so I could absorb all the detail in the backstory and world building. Ambassador Mahit Dzmare has a lot to cope with as both past, present and future combine to keep her trying to keep up and not get killed. The politics are intense and Mahit is both in the dark and a driving force for the future. Book one and there is a lot more to learn about Mahit and her world.

I received a free copy of the book in return for an honest review.

Heavy world building, poetry, history, queer rep. Honestly this book has it all and I LOVED it. It was captivating from start to finish and honestly probably my favorite read of 2019 so far. The story is intricate and grabbing. It's intelligent and the writing is exquisite. Definitely recommend!

Arkady Martine’s A Memory Called Empire is one of the more ambitious books (and certainly debuts) I’ve read in some time, an ambition well within the author’s reach it turns out. Richly layered, backgrounded with vividly intriguing world-building, nicely paced in the way it moves and unfolds, and filled with complex, engaging characters, it’s pretty much everything one can ask for in a book.

Most of the setting takes place on the capital world of the Teixcalaanli Empire, an aged (and aging), vast and powerful multi-system empire of wealth, technology, and “civilization” (as opposed to the barbarians outside its realm). The “Stationers,” so-called because they are bound not to a planet but to “one of the oldest continuously inhabited artificial worldlets,” have managed to retain their independence despite their proximity. What precipitates the events of the novel is the mysterious and sudden request for a new ambassador to replace the former one. Lsel Station chooses young Mahit Dzmare as the new diplomat, and as is usual for her people, she is implanted with an “imago,” a piece of neuro-technology that holds the personality/knowledge of her predecessor. All fields have imagos so that the wisdom of past experience is never lost, many able to trace their “knowledge heritage” through multiple generations. Unfortunately for Mahit, her imago of Yskander, the former ambassador, is 15 years out of date (the time span he’s spent on the capital, referred to only as “The City”) and, even worse, it’s a rush job, so she and “her” Yskander aren’t given the normal time to integrate their personalities and rules of the game. For instance, Yskander can, if he wishes and with her consent, control Mahit’s muscles, glands, etc., so the two “sharing” the body need to work smoothly together.

In short order Mahit lands in the City and learns (no spoiler here as it’s revealed almost immediately) that Yskander is dead. The shock, or perhaps more sinisterly, something else, causes her imago to go dead, and so she is left “alone” to navigate the complex politics of the City and the Empire. And the times are complex indeed, as she’s arrived at a time that comes to all Empires: a time of question over succession with an aged Emperor, a time of border trouble (there’s always trouble on the borders), a time of civil unrest as the populace tries to determine what path the Empire should take forward. And of course, for Mahit, there’s also the question of the relationship of the hugely powerful Empire and her tiny, hopes-to-stay-uneaten Station. A question more complicated by her own love of Teixcalaanli culture (it was in fact this love of its poetry, its language, etc. that led her down the path to becoming an ambassador). This is an Empire that insinuates itself through culture as much or more than through its military might, employing a more insidious and “appealing” sort of power, which personally I find more interesting than the typical Evil Empire that is portrayed solely as evil, with no elements to it that might entice people to invite it in as opposed to being conquered.

Her personal conflict is one of the reasons Mahit is such a strong character, someone who is both enticed and enthralled by Teixcalaanli culture and also worries about being too enticed, as well as taking offense when her admiration is treated patronizingly, as when she explains her knowledge of Teixcalaanli literature: “liking Teixcalaanli poetry was just being cultured, especially when one was barely an adult and sill spending all one’s time getting ready for the language aptitudes. Nevertheless, she disliked Nine Maize’s acknowledging smile, the condescension in his nod: of course new works were celebrated din backwater barbarian space.” This duality appears again when she’s faced by the internal police force, the Sunlit, who appear “in gleaming body armor, a vision out of every Teixcalaanli epic Mahit had ever loved as a child and every dystopian Stationer novel about the horrors of the encroaching Empire. She both desires and fears to be consumed by Teixcalaanli culture. And the author doesn’t let her off the hook, forcing her eventually to choose between reveling in the long-anticipated joy of being submerged in a culture that views her as “barbaric,” or setting aside her love of the Empire’s brighter facets to face down its darker elements and stand up proudly for her own allegedly “backward” culture.

While this is one of the most interesting personal aspects of her character, and broadens out to raise questions of imperialism, colonialism, and assimilation. Martine wisely tethers all this, as well as other more abstract explorations of identity and self-determination, memory and tradition/heritage, mortality (the Teixcalaanli see the imago as an “immortality machine”), to a concrete, almost old-fashioned mystery that drives the plot as much as the Byzantine politics: who killed her predecessor and why? What was he up to and who feared his actions so much as to kill to stop him? This more basic plot is handled adroitly, with all the requisite twists and turns and information withholding and clandestine meetings and mysterious messages and the like, offering up as well more than a few action scenes — assassination attempts, chase scenes, riots, and even a shoot out.

All of which feel emotionally wrought not only for their basic plot points — will they get away while being chased, will they discover who was behind this murder, that bombing, this poisoning, etc. — but because Martine has surrounded Mahit with characters we quickly begin to care about. The sharply wry and incredibly determined Three Seagrass, Mahit’s cultural liaison; The impetuously charming Twelve Azalea, Three Seagrass’ old friend; and the terrifyingly, ruthlessly competent Nineteen Adze, high up in the political system of the Empire, though whether she is ally or enemy is never quite clear. The only slip here, from my perspective, was a potential romantic element that seemed wholly unnecessary, a tad implausible, or surprisingly predictable. One’s mileage may vary on that.

Beyond character and plot, as noted above the world-building is richly detailed, slowly unfolding over time as we learn more about the Empire as well as about Lsel Station. I love the prominence of poetry in Teixcalaanli culture and in this novel, employed for instance as code, but also used in highly public fashion at a poetry contest at court (because of course) to make a political scandal. And the writing is smooth, precise, and always in the right tenor/tone/style for the moment. I love, for instance, how Martine never lets us forget where Mahit comes from, as when she takes comfort in a tight space that reminds her of “the safe three-by-three-by-nine tube of [her room on the station] . . . Soundproof. Lockable . . . closed. . . safe.” Or when watching a riot she’s at first entirely confused by what she is seeing: “People didn’t break things on Lsel — not property, not with cavalier abandon. The shell of a station was fragile, and if some part of the machinery of it snapped, people would die.”

Whatever missteps there are in this novel are few and far-between and relatively trivial. Martine has offered up a fantastically rich debut that resolves many questions but leaves bigger ones unanswered. It could end here, but I for one am happy to know a sequel is in the works and look forward to its appearance.

I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently in terms of discovering new sci-fi and fantasy authors that I like, but no more. This is a terrific debut novel.

The plot centers around diplomatic intrigue, and as you might expect, it’s quite convoluted. The diplomat at the center of the plot is Mahit Dzmare, the new ambassador from her space station-based people to the empire of Teixcalaan. Mahit was called into service after her predecessor died. Except it turns out he didn’t just die, he was murdered, likely because he got caught up in the empire’s internal politics while trying to reign in its expansionist tendencies. Now Mahit has to figure out why he was killed and whether the same thing is likely to happen to her, while also dealing with possible sabotage by her own people, internal unrest within the empire, and the very real possibility of war. And that doesn’t even take into account the strange unknown spaceships that have been attacking and destroying stationer ships . . .

Whew! That’s a lot, and I’m leaving things out.

The worldbuilding is rich and wonderful. Teixcalaan has a Mesoamerican feel in terms of the number-noun naming system for people, the description of its citizens, and other cultural elements. Their language is complex, and the author takes the time to tie that complexity to the culture from which it derives. Poetry is a key element of the story, as the ability to recite and compose it is a valued skill among the people of the Teixcalaan empire. Mahit’s own stationer society is less complex but has its own unique features, such as the way it perpetuates cultural memory.

Mahit is a strong central character, who keeps forging forward in the face of adversity while maintaining her sense of humor. Of the secondary characters, I particularly liked Mahit’s aide, Three Seagrass; she’s enthusiastic and irreverent and frequently quite funny. Actually, I was surprised by how often the book made me laugh in spite of its serious underpinnings. There’s some great banter, particularly between Three Seagrass (Reed), and her old college friend Twelve Azalea (Petal), who is equally amusing. And for a little added interest, there’s a romance between Mahit and Three Seagrass that slowly develops over the course of the book.

Great worldbuilding and characters, intrigue and humor, and romance, too—this book ticks all the boxes. If you like sci-fi that makes you both think and laugh, this is a must-read!

A copy of this book was provided through NetGalley for review; all opinions expressed are my own.

I think the one word I would choose to describe this book would be awesome (as in inspiring awe). Because I was genuinely amazed the whole time I was reading it. This book has some of the most intricate and immersive worldbuilding I’ve read in a long while (at the end, there’s a whole section on how the Teixcalaanli language works – the linguistics nerd in me was so excited).

In A Memory Called Empire, Mahit is chosen to be Lsel’s new ambassador to the Teixcalaanli Empire after the unexpected death of the current ambassador, Yskandr. Lsel Station uses technology which enables them to save recordings of someone’s consciousness in an imago, and then insert that consciousness into another person, to retain knowledge and memories along long lines. Only, the Yskandr that Mahit is given is 15 years out of date, and not very much help in navigating the politics of Teixcalaan. Also central to the story is Mahit’s cultural liason, Three Seagrass.

One of the best things about this book was the worldbuilding. It’s so detailed and immersive (and all those considerations of linguistic differences between Lsel and Teixcalaan, hello, that’s the kind of detail I am here for!). When you’re reading the book, you can’t imagine being anywhere other than the world where the book is set. It’s probably the best worldbuilding I’ve ever read. And I’m not just saying that because it pandered to my needs of in-depth considerations of being an outsider to other communities’ languages. (And you vs we and what that means and okay I’ll stop gushing about this in a moment.)

But worldbuilding would be nothing unless it was backed up by good plot and characters and God does Arkady Martine deliver. The plot is an amazingly exquisite slowburn which slowly uncovers the mystery and keeps you involved throughout, and the characters you’ll fall in love with immediately. (Also you get discussions of why people name themselves the way they do but I said I was going to try stop gushing about language.) (Actually, you know what, I’m not going to stop gushing about language because this book panders so well to my needs in that. All those times I complained about books that don’t consider language change and then Arkady Martine comes and shows you all how it’s done so no, I won’t ever stop talking.)

I genuinely think there was nothing about this book that I didn’t like. That’s how good it was. Yes, it took me a while to read, but that was down to uni work building up rather than the book itself. And also it really is just one you want to savour. And then go back and reread because it’s so cleverly built and absorbing, you have to make sure you’ve taken in everything about it before you can let it go.

Now I’m done, though, I can safely say I’ll be reccing this one to everyone ever.

This was an intriguing debut featuring an outstanding main character. I really liked Mahit and enjoyed her interactions with a culture that she has spent her life studying and is just now contacting. I loved the different factions of the society and enjoyed watching Mahit make her way among them with scant information and no certain allies.

However, books just shouldn't be this hard to read. Everything about this speaks to the alien culture, but it was difficult to keep straight. The readings at the beginning of each chapter were unclear and sometimes gave hints as to what was going on, but sometimes just retold information we already knew. When I got to the end, I found the last 3% of the book was a glossary of terms and character names. That would definitely have been helpful, but also seemed excessive. A paper copy of the book would also have helped going back and forth to find character information.

I liked but didn't love this book. A Memory Called Empire is sci-fi heavy in politics with mystery elements. Overall, it had a good plot, lovely writing, and an intriguing concept. But I struggled to get through this book, especially the first half. It was quite slow and far too political for my taste. However, I did enjoy the world and liked going on a journey with our main character as she weaves her way through court intrigue, learning who she can trust and trying to find answers about her predecessor's questionable death.

One of my main complaints about this book is the characters names, I appreciate that the author was trying to do something different, but most of the characters we meet have number-plant based names (Three-Seagrass). Separating characters was easy enough until you met another character with the same plant names. Characters with similar names blurred together and left me confused several times, trying to figure out who did what and when.

As a whole, I did like this book. I probably would not recommend it to any sci-fi newbies. But for fans of the genre, who love politics and don't mind a slow build up, I would definitely recommend you check out A Memory Called Empire.

3.75 out of 5 stars

This book was absolutely stunning. The world-building was exquisite, the writing was gorgeous and the characters were on point.

I seriously can’t say enough about the world building here. There were so many layers to it, and even though it was largely viewed through the eyes of an outsider, she did a fantastic job of capturing the layered complexities within an empire. Especially contrasting the romanticization of another culture by someone who is an outsider, and the reality of that culture.

And the characters. I loved Mahit so much. She’s strikingly intelligent and incredibly hard working. It was so easy to relate to and cheer for her. Add in Three Seagrass and Twelve Azalea’s banter and I was sold. Every character felt real. And they largely felt filtered through Mahit’s experience of them—which made me instantly suspicious, cause I couldn’t help but wonder what Mahit wasn’t seeing, or where she was wrong in her interpretation of them.

Honestly, there is so much going on in this book, the political intrigue, thoughts about personhood and identity, about memory, the transition of memes and propaganda… like I could probably go on for a long time, and I’m sure if I went back and reread the book I would find more little details that I didn’t notice the first time. It truly is one of those rare books that does a fantastic job of weaving some very complex issues and ideas into an incredibly entertaining narrative.

This is a book that I’m going to recommend to absolutely anyone who loves fantasy or science fiction, the world building is absolutely top-notch (though admittedly, it is a book best served to people who like steep in the books they read a little).

A Memory Called Empire might be the best space opera I have ever read. It is an intellectual, clever, and gripping meditation on civilization, imperialism, belonging, and identity. When I teach a seminar on (modern) empires, my students will be assigned this book. Martine's background as a Byzantine historian makes this story so, so smart: the political intrigues, the usage of poetry and language for protest, confusion over identity, and the challenges of empire.
Mahit Dzmare of the Lsel Station, one of the last autonomous places in the galaxy, travels to the City, the capital of the Teixcalaanli Empire. Mahit grew up fascinated and enamored with Teixcalaanli literature, history, and culture but when she arrives all is not what it appears. Frequently called a "barbarian" (to her face!) and constantly feeling her Other-ness, Mahit must survive with assassination attempts, threats to Lsel Station's autonomy and beliefs, and growing civil unrest in the City.
The world-building is absolutely stunning, complex, and alive. I also am in awe of Martine's usage of language both as a writer and how language within Mahit's world functions. I do not want to give away too much of the plot in this review, other than you must immediately get your hands on a copy.

An amazing debut and one of the best sci-fi I read in a long time.
It took nearly 30% of the book to get involved but starting from that point I couldn't put this book down.
I appreciated the world building, how it manage to mix space opera and mystery, and the well written characters.
I liked the style of writing even if it was a bit hard to follow sometimes.
I look forward to reading the next installment in this series.
Highly recommended!
Many thanks to Macmillan-Tor/Forge and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine.

The word “Empire” is gaining a lot of traction these days. It shows up in the usual places such as fantasy novels and certain political circles, but I am finding myself hearing it more casually in conversation, tv shows, and YouTube videos. Now, I recognize that my particular tastes are not average, in that I often seek out media that provides some commentary on the state of the world. It could be that I just have my ear tuned to that frequency, but there is something alluring about the word empire. It is often employed to describe a large state in the past, typically in hushed tones of “we don’t do that kind of thing anymore.” It spoke to that retrospective context we often assign the word, but in a way that reinforces the conscious forgetting of how empires form. A Memory Called Empire, by Arkady Martine, examines an individual’s relationship to their national identity through an intricately paced mystery story, all while seamlessly blending intricate worldbuilding and a compelling narrative.

The story follows Mahit Dzmare, who represents Lsel, the independent mining station where she was raised, as their newly-appointed ambassador to the Teixcalaanli Empire. Her predecessor is dead, and no one will admit whether it was an accident or murder. Unfortunately for Mahit, the leadership of the empire is also unstable, with open questioning of who is to succeed the current ailing emperor. Mahit enters the capital lost, uninformed, and nearly alone as she tries to figure out why her predecessor is dead and what promises he may have made to those in power. There is not much time as the Teixcalaanli grow bolder in their need for expansion, and her station’s independence might be at risk. With time against her, what will Mahit sacrifice for her people’s sovereignty?

Martine writes with astounding depth. Her use of language contrasting the Teixcalaanli to Mahit’s home culture is inspired. I cannot recall a time I felt so purposefully lost in a culture. I felt like an alien, and I think that was the point. Martine made the Teixcalaanli feel so different from the main character and the audience, without necessarily pitting the reader against them. I feel this is a hard thing to do, especially because it is easy to hate on a “big bad empire” if you are sympathetic to the ambassador of a smaller nation. From the names of the empire’s citizens to their job titles, Martine has created names for almost everything in the Teixcalaanli world. On top of that, to be Teixcalaanli is to be civilized. Everyone who is not a citizen is considered a barbarian, regardless of the fact they are all space-faring civilizations. What makes the separation even more intriguing is the lack of disdain behind word barbarian. Never did it feel overtly malicious, just characters consistently pointing out the obvious that “you are not one of us, nor can you ever be,” reminding Mahit and the reader of their place within the grand scheme.

Martine makes the dynamic even more engrossing by meshing worldbuilding with the character’s narrative. The world is not just alien to the reader, as Mahit is also trying to grasp the reality of a culture she has only ever studied up to that point. It is a slow realization, but Martine paces it well. Mahit is lost upon her arrival to the capital, but confident in her abilities. In her mind, there was clearly a reason she was chosen to be entrusted with the ambassadorship, but as she spends more time with the empire, the less she feels she truly knows. Her liaison, Three Seagrass, is attentive, helpful, and her point of access to understanding the intricacies of Teixcalaanli political life, but she can only provide so much. This choice to have the reader discover the world as Mahit does engrossed me immediately in Mahit’s story. I felt I was relying on her to let me know how she thinks things work. When Mahit finds out she may have been wrong or used the language in a way that did not convey her meaning accurately, I did too. It made her fallible, but not necessarily unreliable.

The writing alone would have carried me through the book even if the story had been lackluster. Martine however, had other plans and wrote a tale of political intrigue that kept me on my toes. My brain was already firing on all cylinders adjusting to the language of the Teixcalaanli, so I felt I had to really work to stay on top of all the political intrigue and mysterious deaths. This was not a bad thing- it honestly added to the general anxiety of her situation. It was impossible to figure out who to trust, who might try to kill Mahit, or whether any of her plans would matter in the face of major political upheaval. It felt like Mahit was pulling a tightly but unevenly wound spring from a sink’s pipes. You just never knew when it would spring free and launch at you, or when it would require a little more effort to dislodge the next piece of the puzzle. The narrative never felt like it dragged, and I always wanted more. It was tiring only in that the reader is along for the ride when it comes to the enormous amount of work Mahit had to do.

There are a lot of great ideas that Martine plays around within this book, particularly examining the meaning of personal identity, empire, and civic duty. Martine never really gives an answer but does an excellent job of opening the discussion. Mahit’s characterization reaches above and beyond the task, Martine seems to have set out for her in terms of theming. Mahit perfectly encapsulates the “between two worlds” narrative often employed in fish out of water stories. I feel these stories entertain the idea that the character can transcend the bad parts of each and combine the strengths of two cultures to succeed. Instead, Mahit begins to lose track of where her loyalties lie. Clearly, she should do her best to serve her own people, but already she feels outcast from them for having studied the ways of Teixcalaanli. When she arrives, her studies keep her afloat, but she is viewed as an outcast there as well. In addition, both sides view Mahit alternately as a tool for an obstacle to their own ends, further separating her from any grander calling beyond “solve the problem directly in front of you.” It was incredibly alienating and made it hard to trust any of the other characters involved in the power struggle.

Martine added to this feeling by starting each chapter with a piece of poetry, a communique, or a snippet of history from within the Teixcalaanli and Lsel cultures she created. They served to highlight the differences in how these two peoples thought about themselves and the world they inhabited. They were never complete thoughts either and served the worldbuilding more often than the narrative. I did not care for them at first because they did not push the narrative, but when I started to pay more attention to them, the harder they were to ignore. It never felt like they built to a synthesis, instead always showing two very different worlds. It lent a sense of urgency and doubt to Mahit’s goals. How would the smaller Lsel station benefit from being integrated when they do not seem to fit? Who would they become based on how they were taken in by the Teixcalaanli? It is an ominous setup, and one I am keen to see play out in the sequel.

A Memory Called Empire is easily one of the strongest debuts I have read. The blending of worldbuilding into the narrative and characterization was refreshing, even though it required a lot of work on my part. The only bumps along the road I encountered were a few awkward dialogue scenes that broke the tonal immersion but never pulled me out. The ride to the end was thoughtful and intense, finishing with one of the most surprising and well-earned conclusions I have read in months. Everything converged together for a grand finale that left me with my mouth agape and made me immediately crave the sequel. If you are just looking for a tension-filled political space opera, this book covers that ground well. Martine, though, does so much more, so eloquently and in ways that cannot be ignored, forcing the reader to pay attention to the details. It is forceful, poetic, introspective and tragic. I can not recommend this book enough.

Rating: A Memory Called Empire – 9.5/10
-Alex

TL;DR

Arkady Martine’s "A Memory Called Empire" is an excellent debut novel. Like all good SFF, it combines action, big ideas, political intrigue, and a setting that evokes that good ole sensawunda. Highly recommended for fans of space opera.

Review

Someone once said that all fiction is either a person coming to or leaving town. Arkady Martine uses this setup in her debut novel, "A Memory Called Empire" from Tor. Only this person is an ambassador, and the town’s a capital city that is, at once, an entire planet and the heart of the empire itself. Using an ambassador instead of tourist infuses every interaction with tension from the start. Ambassadors’ seek to create relationships and foster peace through diplomacy while making deals and by necessity questioning everyone’s motivations. But that’s not enough for Dr. Martine; she increases the complexity by making the ambassador represent a small nation-state that could not prevent unwanted annexation by the empire. To round it all out, the ambassador was called to the empire early due to the sudden death of her predecessor. From there, the novel rockets off to a political thriller filled with polite society, violence, and poetry. "A Memory Called Empire" balances intrigue, character, and action into an enchanting introduction to the Teixcalaan empire. Oh, and the memory/personality of the previous ambassador that is stored in a device on her brain stem just happens to be malfunctioning. Interested, yet?

Story

Mahit Dzmare, Lsel Station ambassador, heads to the City, which is the heart and capital planet of the Teixcalaanli empire. Mahit carries with her in her mind an imago of her predecessor. This imago is a memory backup of many people, stored in a machine attached to her brain stem. Since she left Lsel Station earlier than expected, she and her imago didn’t have time to properly integrate. Mahit quickly learns that the previous ambassador was murdered and the situation in the City is much more fraught than she knew. Violence, protests, a war of annexation, and an emperor with failing health wait for her planet-side. During her education, Mahit fell in love with the empire before stepping one foot in it. On Lsel Station, she studied the empire, its language, and culture, even to the point where she wrote her own poems in the Teixcalaan style. In other words, Mahit is well prepared for her job and her journey to the empire. But, as this is an entertaining novel, she’s in for more than just diplomacy. As she investigates the death of her predecessor, she finds herself awash in internal politics and the target of assassinations, and all while attempting to protect her home from the whims of a much larger nation-state.

"A Memory Called Empire" is the outsider’s story because Mahit is a literal outsider. In fact, the citizens of Teixcalaan won’t let her forget that fact. To them, she’s a barbarian; to them, she plays at being a citizen of the empire. This novel of power dynamics delivers on the outsider point of view. Mahit is so well-versed in the traditions and cultures of Teixcalaan, she can play up or down her ‘barbarian-ness.’ Yet, despite all Mahit’s studies, the lived-in experience of the civilization still lies outside her grasp. It’s subtle but well done. This layer of friction fleshes out the themes dealing with identity.

Identity

With the imago, "A Memory Called Empire" asks interesting questions about identity. These machines store other personalities, even going generations back. The Stationers call these imago lines. As these other personalties blend, how does a person maintain their own? The Stationers seek to put the imagos with compatible personas, but the blending must alter the course of a person’s development. Imagos act as additional memory but also wisdom and understanding. They don’t pass on just knowledge; since the imagos are personalities, they also pass along experience from a life already lived. The process seems like the downloading scene from The Matrix, but instead of perfect knowledge and actions, the data could be viewed as a Stationer apprenticeship shortcut. The Teixcalaanli outlaw this technology because their society relies on an individuals ability to recall poetry and culture, but the Stationer culture depends on the imago technology.

In addition, Mahit’s identity throughout the novel is constantly at war with itself. On the one hand, she admires Teixcalaanli culture and language. She acts like a Teixcalaanli citizen while being constantly reminded that she’s not one. In fact, the society considers her a barbarian. She feels the tug of home while being surrounded by the society that she admires. Mahit puts on the trappings of the empire as needed and plays the role of barbarian as needed. It feels lonely, and yet she’s constantly aware that she’s the outsider. The awkward bits where she’s congratulated for being so civilized are as much about identity as the imago machine. Because of her need to protect her home, Mahit endures small indignities. The empire looks down on her and her people as less than civilized, which is ironic. Imago technology exceeds Teixcalaan abilities (and morals) with neurotech.

Imperialism

Throughout the novel, Mahit, her curiosity and her fears, conveys what it feels like to live in the shadow of a superpower. It goes without saying for much of the novel that Lsel Station wouldn’t be able to stand against the empire should it turn its mind to annexation. Then, halfway through the novel, it is said in plain text. Her mission throughout is, simply, to maintain Lsel Station’s culture and independence. It’s refreshing that the viewpoint is potentially prey, not predator. Despite its technological superiority, Lsel Station will always be viewed as inferior to the empire.

Criticisms

"A Memory Called Empire" takes place over the course of a few days. The action zips right along, and the solution comes about too fast. While the ending contains some magnificent imagery, it moves along too fast and finishes too easily. The solution makes sense and allows some of the characters to have great moments, but it also feels out of sync with what came before. This could be entirely a personal matter. Nor does it take away from the joy of the novel. The journey is where A Memory Called Empire shines.

Conclusion

Arkady Martine’s "A Memory Called Empire" is an excellent debut space opera. It blends the political maneuvering of A Song of Ice and Fire with the philosophical and science fictional elements of Ancillary Justice. Hopefully, A Memory Called Empire opens a new space opera series, and readers can return to the universe of Teixcalaan and Lsel Station.

8 out of 10!

This is a good one. It is a space opera with all sorts of political intrigue. It reminded me of The Traitor Baru Cormorant (which was one of my favorite books of 2016). Mahit, the main character, is the new ambassador from her mining station to the Teixcalaanli Empire. She had to replace the old ambassador that suddenly died (aka was murdered) but no one wants to talk about it, including the leaders of her station and the people she meets of the Teixcalaanli Empire. But his death might have been the catalyst to a huge change in the Empire and Mahit needs to figure out all the intrigues to save herself and her station from being engulfed into the Empire. And it all might tie to the technology that the station has hidden for years. I so enjoyed this book. I loved the characters and the way they interact, especially Mahit and Three Seagrass (her Teixcalaanli liaison). I love the political intrigues that she has to navigate. And I loved the world building and the culture of the Teixcalaanli Empire (language and poetry are a huge part of the culture). If you enjoy expansive world building tied to politics, you will likely enjoy this book.

Ok, first of all, take notes on the names in the book. It will really help in the first half. Second, set yourself for a wild ride, because this book is amazing! I love political intrigue, and this book ranks with the best in that area. In spite of a large cast of characters, there are only a few that will impact the reader, while there are many that will impact the story. The author does an amazing job of giving the minor characters enough fleshing out to make them individuals without letting them take over the story, which is difficult in such a large cast. You never lose track of who matters or what the plot is. I was not expecting the scope or depth of the book, it often seems that authors have to give up one in order to have the other. This is even more true when the book is a stand-alone, which this one is. It is impossible to overstate how very much I enjoyed the book, and I can easily see how the author might return to this world (empire) to explore it even more.

An enjoyable read and a promising debut!
Mahit has just landed her dream job---ambassador from the tiny Lsel Mining Station to the Teixcalaanli Empire! Mahit has studied and admired the Texicalaanli culture her whole life, but nonetheless she is somewhat awed by her new responsibility. Fortunately, she carries a secret asset, an imago, an implanted integrated copy of her predecessor’s memory housed in her neural system and a small ceramic and metal machine attached to her brainstem. Unfortunately, Mahit’s imago is fifteen years old, so she has no record of her predecessor’s experiences for the past fifteen years, including whatever experience led the Teixcalaanlitzlim to request that Lsel send a new ambassador. Mahit arrives to find her predecessor, Yskandr, dead under mysterious circumstances and Teixcalaan on the brink of both civil unrest and a war of conquest that could endanger the liberty of her own people. Mahit has to learn the ropes quickly and try to identify friend (if any) from foe and protect Lsel. In order to do that, though, she must first stay alive!
Writeups classify this book as “space opera”, and it fits this genre in a very good way! Unlike a great deal of SF space opera today, though, A Memory Called Empire does not substitute battle scenes for world-building and imagination. The story is replete with political intrigue and outright treachery in a complex ruling structure. I was not at all surprised to learn that the author is a historian of the Byzantine Empire.
My favorite part of the future laid out in the book, though, is imagos. Author Arkady Martine explores craftfully what it might be like to have another memory inside your own, a memory that was matched to be compatible with your own personality but that is, nonetheless, not you.
Martine has built a vast interstellar empire, peopled it with political schemers of the first order, and told a rousing tale of the far future. What’s not to like? Not much, but this IS a debut novel, and the writing could use a little polish, especially in a tendency to overdo some of the gimmickry. For example, names in Teixcalaan are in two parts. The first is a number, and the second is usually (but not always) a plant. So, for example, we have Eight Antidote and Eleven Conifer and Twelve Azalea and others. It is impossible to keep the names straight. Thank heaven for the handy Glossary of Persons, Places, and Objects at the back of the book, or I might have thrown in the towel (and the book). This could be a more serious problem for many “readers” like my husband who listen to audio books. I also feel sorry for the book narrators who will have to stumble over what I consider unnecessarily complicated place names and words like Bardzravand and yaotlek.
At its best, though, A Memory Called Empire reminds me of Bujold and Asimov, good rousing classic SF. SF has found a talented new voice, and I look forward to her next book.
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance review copy of this book.

A Memory Called Empire has such an interesting and intriguing synopsis, which is why I requested it from Netgalley. Unfortunately, it fell short.

The biggest issue I had with A Memory Called Empire is its writing. Martine’s writing isn’t engaging making the novel read as boring despite the interesting world and culture the author has built. There were countless moments that I felt disinterested in the novel despite an unfolding action sequence or exciting political intrigue.

The reason I rated A Memory Called Empire three stars instead of two is because the culture Martine has created with the Teixcalaanli Empire. The Teixcalaanli Empire’s language and culture is rooted in poetry and literature. It’s a very complex language system that Martine explains carefully through the main character, Mahit. The unfolding of this society is easily the best part of the novel.

This is more of a personal gripe I had with a plot point than real criticism, but I still think it’s worth mentioning. Without going into spoiler territory, Martine decides to withdraw the deadly technological secret, mentioned in the synopsis, at the beginning of the novel. I wish she had left it throughout the story since it would have added more to Mahit as a character, the world building, and culture differences between the Teixcalaanli Empire and Mahit’s native culture.

Overall, A Memory Called Empire has all the trappings of an intriguing and fast paced political sci-fi, but falls flat in its execution. Culture, assimilation, and acculturation are at the heart of this novel making A Memory Called Empire a poignant read for those struggling with where they fit in with society.

[this review will be posted on my blog, acquadimore.wordpress.com, on March 18, 2019]

A Memory Called Empire is a political sci-fi novel with a main f/f romance, the best court intrigue I've read in months if not ever, and plot twists I didn't see coming.
It's set in a space empire in which straight isn't the default, most of the cast is queer, and the worldbuilding is complex but never confusing - everything I've ever wanted.

And yet it's so much more. I knew this would be an intense read for me right from the dedication, because this book is dedicated to anyone who has ever fallen in love with a culture that was devouring their own.

Maybe devouring isn't the right word, but how do you call it when a country often tries compare itself to America according to American standards, not realizing that it's a game it will always lose? Or how do you call the constant attempts at emulation because "American culture" is mistaken by some as "modernity", or even only the fact that the YA section in a bookstore is mostly translated American books?

And this book gets it. This book also gets that the misguided "patriots" who try to restore the "purity" of the culture and avoid cross-culture "contamination" are dangerous (...and often advocating for some version of fascism).
This book gets why someone might love another country's literature so much that they speak another language better than their own, that they think and dream in it. This book gets what it means to never lose the lingering feeling that you're reading stories that never quite fit you, because they were never meant for you in the first place - you are, at best, an afterthought.

I do realize that I'm talking about a book written in English, published in America. But for once, and this might be the first time, I haven't felt like a book was explicitly not written for me.
I could understand Mahit, which means that some parts of this were hard to read. When she feels both insulted and complimented when someone says that she speaks/acts exactly like someone of another culture, or that specific kind of... angry xenophilia we share, or that part in which she specifically says that she finally found a word to describe how she felt and it wasn't even in her language.

But let's talk about the rest of the book too, not only about Mahit's experience with navigating two cultures. A Memory Called Empire has some of the best worldbuilding I've seen lately. Don't get intimidated by words like Teixcalaanlitzlim or ezuazuacat - the court, the intrigue and the surprising plot twists are worth it. (I thought it was worth it just for the pretty descriptions, but not everyone shares my priorities.)

I loved Mahit Dzmare. She's the new ambassador in Teixcalaan, and she gets thrown in a place where she has no allies, after her predecessor got murdered. She's smart and manages to do so much from almost nothing - if you want to read about a complex female character who doesn't use a weapon in the whole book but changes the outcome of an empire's messy succession problem anyway, try this. And her slow-burn romance with cultural liaison Three Seagrass? I love both of them so much, and Seagrass as a character kept surprising me.
The side characters were interesting to read as well - Nineteen Adze was... fascinating to say the least, Yskandr Aghavn was a bisexual disaster and the dialogues between what was left of him and Mahit were my favorite parts of the book, and Twelve Azalea's banter with Seagrass was very entertaining to read too.

When I say that I love a sci-fi book's worldbuilding, it means that it did something interesting with the technology: this did - it's the first book I've ever read that mentioned that AIs can carry the human creator's biases.
But the most interesting sci-fi technology is without a doubt the imago-machine. In Mahit's culture, the memories of the dead are installed on compatible people, and Mahit has an out-of-date version of the previous ambassador in her head.

I loved how this book talked about personhood, memory and identity because of the imago, and how the concept of "me" had different meanings in those situations.
A Memory Called Empire is a book that pays a lot of attention to language, how cultures shape it, and how they shape literature in return. It's really interesting to read, and the level of lit-related detail - paired with the excerpts you get at the beginning of every chapter - made these fictional cultures feel more real. Those details were also part of this book's odd sense of humor (plagiarism jokes! Inappropriate citations! Even more inappropriate double entendres!)

The only thing I didn't like was the binarism. This book is set in a world where homophobia doesn't exist and polyamory is normal, but... there are no explicitly non-binary characters, and some phrasings used in this ARC copy were binarist ("men and women" instead of "people"). An otherwise-queer-accepting society being binarist wouldn't be flawed worldbuilding in itself, were there any reason for it to be that way. Was it intentional? If so, why? I feel like I'm nitpicking but I would have wanted to know more about this.

I began this book, but had difficulty making connections to the story and characters. It's really quite inventive and impressive, but I just could not get hooked. I wish this book success and hope it gets the accolades it deserves.

Mahat becomes ambassador for a large empire that her small mining colony is trying not to be eaten by. She is replacing a man who died in suspicious circumstances. Once she lands on this planet she finds out that his mysterious death is only part of the mysteries she has to solve before she herself might be killed and her colony becomes part of the empire.

This is well written and really fast plot book. Once Mahat arrives there is barely a moment when she can rest. As the book goes on, more revelations are found until everything is revealed. Along the way she meets people who can be considered allies, maybe. Everyone has a motive.

As much as I enjoyed the book, my main problem that dropped a star were the names. Everyone in the empire is named (Number)(Plant). Honestly, this made it hard to remember who is who.