M.L. Clark wrote one of my favorite novelettes of 2022, so when I saw that she was releasing a deeply philosophical indie space opera, I figured it was well worth checking out. Might’ve taken me a while to get to it—the TBR never sleeps—but I finally was able to make a hole in my schedule big enough for a chunky sci-fi and picked up Children of Doro.

In her author’s note, Clark explicitly draws inspiration from The Brothers Karamazov. I don’t know much about it except that it’s both a classic and is famously long, but if it spends most of the book agonizing over the moral formation of the main characters, it may not be too far off. Children of Doro is narrated by an AI seeking to explain the causes behind the complete destruction of the planet Doro. And so it dives deep into the history of the key players, excavating the events that led them to be the way that they were, before moving forward in the second part of the novel to describe the events immediately surrounding the disaster.

Evident from the first page is how the book really commits to the AI narrator. It’s a stylized narration, with enough eccentricities to clearly distinguish it from a human narration but not enough to break immersion. It’s also a very careful, slow-building narrative with copious footnotes and dedication to sussing out both the preconditions and the consequences of every major action—though the AI certainly brings its own biases to the table. For my tastes, it was a little bit too slow, and the opening half felt a lot like reading nonfiction, with its careful introduction of the setting and each major player, followed by an explication of how their practical philosophies developed.

But for all that it’s a slow build, that dive into moral formation and practical philosophy is essential for the primary project of the book, as evinced in the second half. Here the action picks up, leading the reader to the inevitable destruction of Doro, and its aftermath. And the action makes for an enjoyable bit of space opera. But real heart is an exploration of the conditions that made such a ghastly event possible. How does one live in an unjust society? How does society shape its own villains? Is there any purpose in striving when one’s best actions are distorted or swallowed up by a larger and uncaring system?

It’s a story dives deep into heady topics, diving right into the complicated morass of political and moral philosophy, with some engagement with existentialism on the way. It’s careful and thought-provoking, and it tells a pretty good sci-fi tale to boot. This definitely won’t be a book for all readers, with its stately pace and philosophical focus. But readers who have been looking for this sort of book may easily find a new favorite.

Recommended if you like: slow-building, philosophical sci-fi.

Overall rating: 13 of Tar Vol’s 20. Three stars on Goodreads.

If I am honest, I had a hard time finishing this book, despite the fact that it contains undoubtedly interesting elements. The human-artificial intelligence relationship is indeed very much on the agenda, just as the fears concerning the 'seizure' of power by the aforementioned artificial intelligence are highly topical. Two types of this intelligence appear in the novel: one, let us say, good, subject to man, and another that we can define a little too independent. In the mixture that makes up the plot we also have a holy book, somewhat along the lines of the Orange Catholic Bible in Dune, a planet that explodes, we don't know whether intentionally or unintentionally, and some creatures - human or otherwise - that somehow try to unravel the tangle.
Interesting elements, I said, but the problem is the language. The author wanted to write the story by trying to create an artificial intelligence narrative module, but the result is heavy, contrived and decidedly unenjoyable.

Unfortunately, I am not able to finish this book. I stopped reading at about 15%. The prose is just too bulky, it felt like a constant, active effort to wrap my head around what was happening. Most sentences are a series of 4-5 clauses stitches together with cumbersome grammar. By the time I would end a sentence, I would have already lost the general idea that the sentence was trying to convey, making me read sentences over and over. The writing is not overly flowery or technical per se, just inaccessible. Action, descriptions, and characterization was completely lost in long paragraphs comprised of only 2-3 sentences. It's really a shame because there's a very interesting story buried under the prose. I really wanted to continue with the book, but I fear my overall perception of the text would be unfairly colored by my distaste for the prose. I'd like to give this book another shot, perhaps with some editing down. I do not generally like to provide star ratings for books that I do not complete fully, but because NetGalley requires it, I have provided one.