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A review by markyon
Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen by Lois McMaster Bujold
4.0
“Three years after her famous husband’s death, Cordelia Vorkosigan, widowed Vicereine of Sergyar, spins her life in a new direction. Caught up in her plans in ways they’d never imagined, Oliver Jole, Admiral, Sergyar Fleet, is confronted with an unexpected career crossroads, and Miles Vorkosigan, one of Emperor Gregor’s key investigators, dispatches himself on an inquiry he never anticipated — into the mystery of his own mother.”
So we return to the Vorkosigan Saga, of which this is the 17th book, and the first since the Hugo-nominated Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance in 2012.
Centre stage this time is Miles’ red-headed mother, Cordelia, and this gives the tale a slightly different dynamic to a Miles-centred book. Indeed, I suspect that it is this unusual perspective that has returned Lois to writing Vorkosigan tales. To be fair though, Cordelia has always been an important person in the Saga – reliable, loyal, resourceful, and fiery; a strength for Miles and his family, so fans of the series will enjoy this perspective.
If Cryoburn was about death (and the suspension of it, through cryogenics) then Gentleman Jole is its flip-side, it being about family, conception and birth. Much of the plot revolves around the idea that Cordelia is contemplating retiring from her duties as Vicereine of Sergyar and having more children, currently stored, as is the custom, as frozen eggs and created in uterine replicators – many people in Bujold’s world tend to choose to produce children by artificial pregnancy rather than in the traditional manner.
As there were ‘eggshells’ left over, Cordelia offers the enucleated ova to her close long-time companion, Admiral Oliver Jole, aide and also ex-lover to deceased Aral. Though meant as a gift, this complicates things for long-term military man Jole, who is also contemplating retirement from his duties.
Things progress and Cordelia and Jole begin (or rather, reignite) what I guess we would call ‘an autumnal relationship’, to the shock and horror of those around them:
“Apparently nobody under thirty thinks anyone over fifty has sex, so the explanations, while invective, are bound to lead people astray.”
There’s some disparate subplots about misappropriated construction supplies, a major fiftieth birthday celebration and an initially seemingly-irrelevant examination of alien lifeforms that all come together towards the end. The arrival of Miles and his lively family to the proceedings lead to this ruminance on family, friendship and child-bearing that makes up the core of the novel.
A couple of reviews have commented on ‘not a lot happening’ in the novel. To some extent this is true – readers expecting action in the manner of Miles in the Dendarii Mercenaries will be disappointed. Miles himself only appears halfway through the book. But after writing the series for over thirty years, it is often the lesser characters that provide the interest – to write about, as well as to read.
Most of all, Gentleman Jole is an examination of life-issues from an older perspective, dissecting ideas that tend to be thought of by people entering the later stages of their lives – what have I done with my life, and what or who will I leave behind to continue afterwards? The book is about heritage, and of legacy, in a science-fictional setting.
It is also about recovering after trauma and learning to live and love again, after the death of Cordelia’s life-long husband. Like many, adjusting to the loss of a long-term partner, Cordelia realises that “…she, too, might be out of practice at this sort of thing…” something which many people find as they lose or outlive their partners.
There are lots of comments throughout about the commonalities and differences between alien races, sexes and cultures, such as the imbalance between the allegedly sex-obsessed Betans (Cordelia) versus the more reticent Barrayaran perspective. As ever, the key to the success of Lois’s Vorkosigan books is that they predominantly examine human concerns, admittedly with the addition of science-fictional touches and a certain degree of humour.
The science-fictional element of the story here is created partly through the dilemmas in medical ethics created by technology – in this case the responsibility of conceiving and rearing children.
Bujold herself has said that this is a book for adults – it is a slow-burner that, beneath its relatively calm and staid surface has a lot to say about race, society and ethics. Some readers may be shocked by the sexual revelations made so calmly and quietly within this novel – but Cordelia has always had the ability to shock. Her keeping of disabled Miles as a baby when others would not have is just one facet of her character. I, for one, felt pleased that we see more of this character, in depth for the first time since the early days of Shards of Honor.
“What is love but delight in another human being? He delights me daily.”
After thirty years it can be a challenge to keep writing in a series of such volume and consistently high quality. Whilst there could be a tendency in lesser hands to keep churning out material regardless, Lois has managed to produce a book worthy of the series, though admittedly different from many therein. It is deftly written and delightful in its execution – not a place to start the series, but fans who have made the journey so far will not be disappointed.
So we return to the Vorkosigan Saga, of which this is the 17th book, and the first since the Hugo-nominated Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance in 2012.
Centre stage this time is Miles’ red-headed mother, Cordelia, and this gives the tale a slightly different dynamic to a Miles-centred book. Indeed, I suspect that it is this unusual perspective that has returned Lois to writing Vorkosigan tales. To be fair though, Cordelia has always been an important person in the Saga – reliable, loyal, resourceful, and fiery; a strength for Miles and his family, so fans of the series will enjoy this perspective.
If Cryoburn was about death (and the suspension of it, through cryogenics) then Gentleman Jole is its flip-side, it being about family, conception and birth. Much of the plot revolves around the idea that Cordelia is contemplating retiring from her duties as Vicereine of Sergyar and having more children, currently stored, as is the custom, as frozen eggs and created in uterine replicators – many people in Bujold’s world tend to choose to produce children by artificial pregnancy rather than in the traditional manner.
As there were ‘eggshells’ left over, Cordelia offers the enucleated ova to her close long-time companion, Admiral Oliver Jole, aide and also ex-lover to deceased Aral. Though meant as a gift, this complicates things for long-term military man Jole, who is also contemplating retirement from his duties.
Things progress and Cordelia and Jole begin (or rather, reignite) what I guess we would call ‘an autumnal relationship’, to the shock and horror of those around them:
“Apparently nobody under thirty thinks anyone over fifty has sex, so the explanations, while invective, are bound to lead people astray.”
There’s some disparate subplots about misappropriated construction supplies, a major fiftieth birthday celebration and an initially seemingly-irrelevant examination of alien lifeforms that all come together towards the end. The arrival of Miles and his lively family to the proceedings lead to this ruminance on family, friendship and child-bearing that makes up the core of the novel.
A couple of reviews have commented on ‘not a lot happening’ in the novel. To some extent this is true – readers expecting action in the manner of Miles in the Dendarii Mercenaries will be disappointed. Miles himself only appears halfway through the book. But after writing the series for over thirty years, it is often the lesser characters that provide the interest – to write about, as well as to read.
Most of all, Gentleman Jole is an examination of life-issues from an older perspective, dissecting ideas that tend to be thought of by people entering the later stages of their lives – what have I done with my life, and what or who will I leave behind to continue afterwards? The book is about heritage, and of legacy, in a science-fictional setting.
It is also about recovering after trauma and learning to live and love again, after the death of Cordelia’s life-long husband. Like many, adjusting to the loss of a long-term partner, Cordelia realises that “…she, too, might be out of practice at this sort of thing…” something which many people find as they lose or outlive their partners.
There are lots of comments throughout about the commonalities and differences between alien races, sexes and cultures, such as the imbalance between the allegedly sex-obsessed Betans (Cordelia) versus the more reticent Barrayaran perspective. As ever, the key to the success of Lois’s Vorkosigan books is that they predominantly examine human concerns, admittedly with the addition of science-fictional touches and a certain degree of humour.
The science-fictional element of the story here is created partly through the dilemmas in medical ethics created by technology – in this case the responsibility of conceiving and rearing children.
Bujold herself has said that this is a book for adults – it is a slow-burner that, beneath its relatively calm and staid surface has a lot to say about race, society and ethics. Some readers may be shocked by the sexual revelations made so calmly and quietly within this novel – but Cordelia has always had the ability to shock. Her keeping of disabled Miles as a baby when others would not have is just one facet of her character. I, for one, felt pleased that we see more of this character, in depth for the first time since the early days of Shards of Honor.
“What is love but delight in another human being? He delights me daily.”
After thirty years it can be a challenge to keep writing in a series of such volume and consistently high quality. Whilst there could be a tendency in lesser hands to keep churning out material regardless, Lois has managed to produce a book worthy of the series, though admittedly different from many therein. It is deftly written and delightful in its execution – not a place to start the series, but fans who have made the journey so far will not be disappointed.