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3.55 AVERAGE
3.55 AVERAGE
The world building is impressive and fascinating, but I found the depth of explanation of every working moment of a ship terribly boring. And this is probably the most tepid "romantic" relationship I've ever read in a novel.
Recent Reads: Arabella Of Mars. David Levine remakes planetary romance as Napoleonic Regency romance. Heyer and Hornblower go to Barsoom.
I enjoyed the use of outer space travel, despite the fact that the setting was still for the 1800s. Arabella is a joy to read about and I would be interested to read more about her in future installments of this series. The only thing I didn't like was how swearing was handled and that is why I took a star off my rating.
A great concept ruined by a forced romance (between an underage character and a character who seems to be decidedly of age) and trite discussions of privilege and propriety that don’t manage to fully interrogate the historical period in England on which this book is based. To be fair, I know that I would have liked this book better if I’d read it when I were younger, but it does still dumb down its ideas of morality in a way that seems to patronize its intended audience. And again, there’s the weird romance.
"After the battle, Arabella's mood resembled the air around the ship, still fogged with dense, stale smoke and cluttered with wreckage and clumps of black, clotted blood."
"Some day, Arabella thought, perhaps she might take passage on such a ship. To sail the air, and see the asteroids, and visit the swamps of Venus would be a grand adventure indeed."
"Some day, Arabella thought, perhaps she might take passage on such a ship. To sail the air, and see the asteroids, and visit the swamps of Venus would be a grand adventure indeed."
4.5 stars. I thought this was a great first sci-fi novel! It did get a little slow in the middle, but not much at all! So many aspects of this story I adore! Definitely check it out!
3.5
The romance felt hella awkward and weird probably because it was written by a man... But otherwise enjoyable.
The romance felt hella awkward and weird probably because it was written by a man... But otherwise enjoyable.
Based on the premise, the characters and the plot I should have loved this book, but somehow it managed to simultaneously bore and annoy me instead. Maybe I just was not in the right mood, or maybe this book just is not for me :/
cross posted from fox and fiction
I knew two things going into this book: one, that the laws of the universe had been drastically altered to allow for sailing ships to float into space and the atmosphere outside of Earth to be breathable, in the year 1813, and two, that the main character disguises herself to board one of those ships bound for Mars. Despite how fun both of those things sound, this book was a colossal disappointment. While I love the trope of women in history passing as men, among men, unnoticed, there’s always a big chance for disappointment. The reason why this trope has such potential to be wonderful is that there is a precedent for women in the year 1813 who wore men’s clothes: they were lesbians. There’s a history of lesbians who wear men’s clothes that continues to this day. Arabella doesn’t don these clothes with disdain; from the beginning of the novel she prefers clothes to be practical over the frilly dresses her mother and London society expects her to wear. Now of course wearing men’s clothes to sneak amongst the crew of an airship so she can get to Mars does not automatically make Arabella a lesbian. However, Arabella of Mars seems to operate in a universe where no one is anything other than cis-gendered and heterosexual. Arabella spends a lot of time worrying about her crush on the ship’s captain, and how unnatural it is for the boy she is pretending to be to have. It’s hurtful when people decide that your value, your history in a story are unimportant. It’s even more hurtful when people insist your history doesn’t exist. I have difficulty believing that not only are there no couples upon this all male sailing crew (there’s a precedent for this as well, among pirates, mostly, but all sorts of crews of men have been known to host lovers), but that Arabella has no idea that homosexuality even exists. Or even worse, that David Levine believes that in 1813, we didn’t exist. In a universe where one can board a ship and sail for Mars, ignoring the existence of LGBT people is frankly absurd and quite painful.
While that is the most upsetting flaw in this book, there are a number of other things that bothered me. The romance itself was bland and seemed shoehorned in, as if it was developed after the fact to tie the plot up neatly. Captain Singh doesn’t seem to have any character besides that he is a good captain and a polite man, and if I didn’t know Arabella’s feelings, I would have never guessed that there was anything romantic between the two of them. There are too many subplots that detract from the main plot, and too many threads left dangling. The racial tension between some of the crew and their Indian captain, and the plantation life that Arabella lives on Mars, even though they employ Martians, is very uncomfortable, especially when the fact that the author is a white man is taken into consideration.
In the original interview with the author I read before reading this book, Levine stated that he made the protagonist of his story a woman because women face more challenges to overcome, making them more interesting characters. I agreed and was interested in reading Arabella of Mars based on that. But Levine seems to still misunderstand women. The point of a woman disguising herself as a man among men is not to make the women in question powerful; it’s to show that upon the reveal of her true gender that she has always been powerful— that women are inherently just as powerful and capable as men. But Arabella, upon her own reveal, releases all power she had held as a man, and doesn’t fight to get any of it back. She is frustrated at this and spends the rest of the voyage feeling useless and angry at the men who treat her differently now, and wearing an uncomfortable frilly dress found for her in the cargo of the ship— she even dons a pair of ladylike slippers, even though she boarded the shop wearing women’s boots, hoping they passed unnoticed among the men (which I assume they must have, because she passed unnoticed among men). What happened to her boots and why are they suddenly unacceptable? Presumably the same thing that happened to Arabella’s mantle of masculinity. It got in the way of the romance and had to be given up. Is it realistic that Arabella would defer to men once her gender is revealed, that she would let herself be viewed as weak in order to win the heart of the man she desires? Sure. But fiction isn’t restrained by the requirements of reality. Arabella should be allowed to wear pants and work aboard the ship and get the guy— or even more preferably, the girl. What starts out as a promising and fun novel, Arabella of Mars is ultimately frustrating and a disappointment. If you’re looking for fun novels where women defy gender norms, try Vermilion by Molly Tanzer, or even better, my favorite lesbian novel, Karen Memory by Elizabeth Bear.
I knew two things going into this book: one, that the laws of the universe had been drastically altered to allow for sailing ships to float into space and the atmosphere outside of Earth to be breathable, in the year 1813, and two, that the main character disguises herself to board one of those ships bound for Mars. Despite how fun both of those things sound, this book was a colossal disappointment. While I love the trope of women in history passing as men, among men, unnoticed, there’s always a big chance for disappointment. The reason why this trope has such potential to be wonderful is that there is a precedent for women in the year 1813 who wore men’s clothes: they were lesbians. There’s a history of lesbians who wear men’s clothes that continues to this day. Arabella doesn’t don these clothes with disdain; from the beginning of the novel she prefers clothes to be practical over the frilly dresses her mother and London society expects her to wear. Now of course wearing men’s clothes to sneak amongst the crew of an airship so she can get to Mars does not automatically make Arabella a lesbian. However, Arabella of Mars seems to operate in a universe where no one is anything other than cis-gendered and heterosexual. Arabella spends a lot of time worrying about her crush on the ship’s captain, and how unnatural it is for the boy she is pretending to be to have. It’s hurtful when people decide that your value, your history in a story are unimportant. It’s even more hurtful when people insist your history doesn’t exist. I have difficulty believing that not only are there no couples upon this all male sailing crew (there’s a precedent for this as well, among pirates, mostly, but all sorts of crews of men have been known to host lovers), but that Arabella has no idea that homosexuality even exists. Or even worse, that David Levine believes that in 1813, we didn’t exist. In a universe where one can board a ship and sail for Mars, ignoring the existence of LGBT people is frankly absurd and quite painful.
While that is the most upsetting flaw in this book, there are a number of other things that bothered me. The romance itself was bland and seemed shoehorned in, as if it was developed after the fact to tie the plot up neatly. Captain Singh doesn’t seem to have any character besides that he is a good captain and a polite man, and if I didn’t know Arabella’s feelings, I would have never guessed that there was anything romantic between the two of them. There are too many subplots that detract from the main plot, and too many threads left dangling. The racial tension between some of the crew and their Indian captain, and the plantation life that Arabella lives on Mars, even though they employ Martians, is very uncomfortable, especially when the fact that the author is a white man is taken into consideration.
In the original interview with the author I read before reading this book, Levine stated that he made the protagonist of his story a woman because women face more challenges to overcome, making them more interesting characters. I agreed and was interested in reading Arabella of Mars based on that. But Levine seems to still misunderstand women. The point of a woman disguising herself as a man among men is not to make the women in question powerful; it’s to show that upon the reveal of her true gender that she has always been powerful— that women are inherently just as powerful and capable as men. But Arabella, upon her own reveal, releases all power she had held as a man, and doesn’t fight to get any of it back. She is frustrated at this and spends the rest of the voyage feeling useless and angry at the men who treat her differently now, and wearing an uncomfortable frilly dress found for her in the cargo of the ship— she even dons a pair of ladylike slippers, even though she boarded the shop wearing women’s boots, hoping they passed unnoticed among the men (which I assume they must have, because she passed unnoticed among men). What happened to her boots and why are they suddenly unacceptable? Presumably the same thing that happened to Arabella’s mantle of masculinity. It got in the way of the romance and had to be given up. Is it realistic that Arabella would defer to men once her gender is revealed, that she would let herself be viewed as weak in order to win the heart of the man she desires? Sure. But fiction isn’t restrained by the requirements of reality. Arabella should be allowed to wear pants and work aboard the ship and get the guy— or even more preferably, the girl. What starts out as a promising and fun novel, Arabella of Mars is ultimately frustrating and a disappointment. If you’re looking for fun novels where women defy gender norms, try Vermilion by Molly Tanzer, or even better, my favorite lesbian novel, Karen Memory by Elizabeth Bear.