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A review by theaurochs
Summerland by Hannu Rajaniemi
4.0
Having just ripped my way through Rajaniemi’s Jean Le Flambeur trilogy, it is safe to say that my expectations (or perhaps just hopes) were sky-high for more of their writing. I flew through that trilogy, devouring the fantastic displays of imagination and revelling in the literary inventiveness on display. Moving from that feast of sci-fi creativity to a period-piece alternate history spy novel was always going to be jarring, and I definitely think it suffered from my lofty expectations. While still a novel full of intriguing ideas and incredibly paced plotting, Summerland is a lot more restrained (one could argue coherent) in its ideas and ambition, leaving a solid story that is probably more accessible than The Quantum Thief but certainly less exciting as well.
The plot feels like a classic spy thriller, and would certainly not be out of place in a Le Carré. Somewhat similarly to The Quantum Thief, we use a fairly familiar-feeling plot to ground us in a bizarre and unusual world. Death, it appears, is not the end. Somewhere in the mid-to-late Victorian era a group of scientists using fledgling electronic devices manage to contact the spirits of the recently deceased, and learn that there is a whole new world with entirely new dimensions that can house spirits after the death of the body. This happening at the peak of the British Empire means that the Empire did what it does best, and colonised the afterlife. Fast-forward to the late 1930s and the setting of this novel. The cold war is brewing between western powers and the Soviet Union; with the revolution in Spain serving as the current proxy war. But this time, it’s not just the fate of Europe that hangs in the balance, it is the very spiritual future of mankind. And the weapons used in the conflict include nightmarish constructions created of and fuelled by the souls of the deceased.
Against this backdrop of conflict we follow Rachel White, a British intelligence operative struggling to make her way in a very male-dominated industry and time, rife with nepotism. She is unjustly demoted and decides to seek out a soviet mole in order to clear her name. The mole is in fact one Peter Blooms, a recently deceased intelligence officer (and our second POV character) working for the “Summer Court”; the arm of the British Intelligence service that operates in Summerland, the realm of the dead.
It's an intriguing setup, and the drama that follows feels by and large authentic to the world it inhabits. The motives and character actions have an authentic feel that fleshes out the unique atmosphere of a world where death is verifiably no longer the end. We get to see ideological conflicts expressed, for speculative ideologies informed by this world, and as such we as the reader can puzzle together the shape of the world. The focus of the book is more rooted in the individual though, in these two secret agents and the chase between them, as Rachel slowly builds their trap but in doing some puts themself in a more precarious position, having to go behind their superior’s backs and potentially crossing the line to traitor themself. It’s classic spy stuff and makes for a fun read, even if you don’t care about the wider world and politics. It is a short and sharp book, with very little wasted time; the plot moves inexorably onwards and always feels snappy, despite the fact that we do actually take time for character moments and reflection. The relationship between Rachel and her war-veteran husband serves as a good foil to the spy drama and adds some welcome and effective characterisation.
The exposition in some places is a little brute-force, which is definitely disappointing. There is a whole world here and it's clear that Rajaniemi wants to explore it, but we get a few too many instances of repetition of core elements early on to get us up to speed. Not entirely offensive as it makes getting on board with the world easier, but it is a little disappointing. I’m also not sure about the rising threat of the story; while it does still mostly focus on the two spies, we inevitably get embroiled in bigger and bigger plots and revelations until we’re looking at civilisation-level existential threats. This maybe isn’t so out of place in spy novels, I can imagine the revelation of a nuclear threat or something similar, but it does still come across as slightly cheesy and make me wish we’d maintained the personal stakes; allowing the wider conflicts to simply play out in the background. Also, the prose is just a lot more straightforward. It’s far from poor, and works excellently to drive the story along, but compared to the sheer beauty and nesting narrative structure of The Fractal Prince it’s a distinct step down.
A really enjoyable and inventive sci-fi spy thriller, that presents an intriguing world and takes us for a fun ride through it. It has all the flawed characters and double-crosses you could want from your spy story, and more than enough well-realised imagination to carry the sci-fi side. Only really a slight let-down when compared to the shining brilliance of Rajaniemi’s earlier work.
The plot feels like a classic spy thriller, and would certainly not be out of place in a Le Carré. Somewhat similarly to The Quantum Thief, we use a fairly familiar-feeling plot to ground us in a bizarre and unusual world. Death, it appears, is not the end. Somewhere in the mid-to-late Victorian era a group of scientists using fledgling electronic devices manage to contact the spirits of the recently deceased, and learn that there is a whole new world with entirely new dimensions that can house spirits after the death of the body. This happening at the peak of the British Empire means that the Empire did what it does best, and colonised the afterlife. Fast-forward to the late 1930s and the setting of this novel. The cold war is brewing between western powers and the Soviet Union; with the revolution in Spain serving as the current proxy war. But this time, it’s not just the fate of Europe that hangs in the balance, it is the very spiritual future of mankind. And the weapons used in the conflict include nightmarish constructions created of and fuelled by the souls of the deceased.
Against this backdrop of conflict we follow Rachel White, a British intelligence operative struggling to make her way in a very male-dominated industry and time, rife with nepotism. She is unjustly demoted and decides to seek out a soviet mole in order to clear her name. The mole is in fact one Peter Blooms, a recently deceased intelligence officer (and our second POV character) working for the “Summer Court”; the arm of the British Intelligence service that operates in Summerland, the realm of the dead.
It's an intriguing setup, and the drama that follows feels by and large authentic to the world it inhabits. The motives and character actions have an authentic feel that fleshes out the unique atmosphere of a world where death is verifiably no longer the end. We get to see ideological conflicts expressed, for speculative ideologies informed by this world, and as such we as the reader can puzzle together the shape of the world. The focus of the book is more rooted in the individual though, in these two secret agents and the chase between them, as Rachel slowly builds their trap but in doing some puts themself in a more precarious position, having to go behind their superior’s backs and potentially crossing the line to traitor themself. It’s classic spy stuff and makes for a fun read, even if you don’t care about the wider world and politics. It is a short and sharp book, with very little wasted time; the plot moves inexorably onwards and always feels snappy, despite the fact that we do actually take time for character moments and reflection. The relationship between Rachel and her war-veteran husband serves as a good foil to the spy drama and adds some welcome and effective characterisation.
The exposition in some places is a little brute-force, which is definitely disappointing. There is a whole world here and it's clear that Rajaniemi wants to explore it, but we get a few too many instances of repetition of core elements early on to get us up to speed. Not entirely offensive as it makes getting on board with the world easier, but it is a little disappointing. I’m also not sure about the rising threat of the story; while it does still mostly focus on the two spies, we inevitably get embroiled in bigger and bigger plots and revelations until we’re looking at civilisation-level existential threats. This maybe isn’t so out of place in spy novels, I can imagine the revelation of a nuclear threat or something similar, but it does still come across as slightly cheesy and make me wish we’d maintained the personal stakes; allowing the wider conflicts to simply play out in the background. Also, the prose is just a lot more straightforward. It’s far from poor, and works excellently to drive the story along, but compared to the sheer beauty and nesting narrative structure of The Fractal Prince it’s a distinct step down.
A really enjoyable and inventive sci-fi spy thriller, that presents an intriguing world and takes us for a fun ride through it. It has all the flawed characters and double-crosses you could want from your spy story, and more than enough well-realised imagination to carry the sci-fi side. Only really a slight let-down when compared to the shining brilliance of Rajaniemi’s earlier work.