Book Review: The Goblin Emperor

[osprey_archer]

I just finished Katherine Addison’s The Goblin Emperor, and to my relief, after bombing out on my first try, I did quite enjoy it this time around. I think the important thing is to read the first few chapters all in one gulp to get situated, because when I tried to do it the other way I gave up in a welter of “Who are all these people and why do all of their names have fifteen vowels?”

The worldbuilding in this book is beautifully intricate (I am continually frustrated by the fact that publishers don’t include maps in Monette’s books), and the politics are interesting, but at the same time, at least for me, The Goblin Emperor lacked the idtastic pull of Monette’s earlier books. The beautiful suffering quotient has gone way, way down, and I feel rather wistful about that.

I also was rather disappointed by the lack of emotional heft in the betrayals; there are two major ones in the book, but in both cases they’re betrayals orchestrated by people that Maia doesn’t know well and already has reason to dislike.

(Okay, and they’re helped by one of Maia’s bodyguards. One of the second-tier bodyguards, who figure very lightly in the narrative till the betrayal, and to whom he is not nearly as attached as the first-tier bodyguards.)

Perhaps, though, I’m just disappointed that my prediction turned out to be wrong: I figured that Maia’s personal secretary Csevet would betray him. Who is Csevet, after all? The courier who brought word that Maia had unexpectedly become emperor. He could be in the pay of anyone! He might have all sorts of devious agendas! But he doesn’t; he doesn’t have any personal agenda at all, in fact. Maia lucked into the perfect secretary.

I wasn’t expecting Politburo-worthy intrigue, but I wanted something with a little more teeth.



Having complained that the book was not the book I wanted it to be, I must say that for what it is, it’s quite charming. The world-building is really quite impressive, to the point that I was rather sorry that we, with Maia, were so hemmed in by the rules of imperial grandeur: I would have liked the chance to get out and explore.

Comments

[asakiyume]

I finally read this, after refusing to for YEARS. I read it in tandem with one of my daughters: I liked it better than I expected and she liked it less than she had hoped, but even for her, it grew on her.

I had the same thought about Csevet! Or rather, more along the lines of, How handy that literally the first person you lay eyes on turns out to be really an excellent secretary for you! And all throughout, I felt that things fell out pretty heavily in Maia's favor, all things considered. Also, his good intentions never once went awry: he never did anything that was a hideous mistake whose consequences he had to then live with. On the one hand I was just as happy for that? It's a big wish-fulfillment thing for me to have good intentions communicate! To have the force of will and desire make a difference to people. But at the same time, it's really, really contrary to real life.

I also was bemused at the use of magic in this world. It comes up *solely* in the context of the attempts against Maia--once when the traitorous bodyguard puts the other one to sleep (but I misunderstood that as basically just due to some natural compound, you know, like elf chloroform), and the other where the bodyguard kills the attacker with death magic. Wow! Like wow! Magic doesn't figure at ALL and now it's killing people! As Little Springtime and I were saying to each other, What else can magic do? "Can it put a bridge across a river?" --"Nope!" "How about help with weaving fine silk so the weavers don't go blind?" --"Hells to the no!" "Mmmmm, can it help workers in some way?" --"Definitely not" ....

But for all that, I really enjoyed it. I liked being in Maia's company, I guess--liked seeing him figure things out.

[osprey_archer]

Generally when people call a book "iddy" they are talking about something that is hornier than this book, but at the same time I think this is one of those books that really, really appeals to some people because it speaks directly to their id - it's just that instead of the sex part of the id, it appeals to the part that wants good intentions to manifest themselves in good outcomes, and the formerly unloved main character to be warm and happy and loved, etc. It's like porn logic, but for goodness and gentleness instead of porn?

Meanwhile, other readers are like "The human body doesn't bend that way But good intentions don't always result in good outcomes? Imperial courts usually aren't bastions of gentleness and love?"

I did enjoy the book but I've never had the impulse to revisit it or read the sequel that is coming out in June.

[asakiyume]

I don't think it quite rose to id-satisfaction level for me--it was just extremely pleasant and *interesting* where interesting honestly just means interesting and isn't a euphemism for something bad.