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orionmerlin 's review for:

Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky
3.75
adventurous challenging dark emotional funny hopeful informative mysterious reflective tense medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven: A mix
Strong character development: Complicated
Loveable characters: Complicated
Diverse cast of characters: Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

Characters — 6.5/10
Professor Arton Daghdev is one of those narrators who’s clever enough to keep me reading but irritating enough to keep me rolling my eyes. His wit veers into smugness so often it undercuts the actual pathos of the story, which is a shame because the supporting cast is far more interesting. Ilmus, the nonbinary dissident, is a sharp counterweight to the Mandate’s obsession with binaries, and Nimell Primatt brings the pragmatic backbone Daghdev sorely lacks. Meanwhile, Commandant Terolan devolves into stock prison-warden villainy, which feels like a wasted opportunity for a more complex ideological clash. Basically, the side characters carried the weight while our main guy stumbled along with his sarcasm. 
Atmosphere/Setting — 9/10
Kiln is grotesque and gorgeous, like if a coral reef and a fever dream had a baby. Everything is stitched together with symbiosis—forty percent of every organism is something else—which is both fascinating and profoundly unsettling. Add in the ruins of a lost civilization and the whole place hums with mystery. Then layer the Mandate’s oppressive surveillance state over that, and you’ve got a setting that’s not just a backdrop but a character in its own right. It’s claustrophobic, alien, and brilliant—honestly one of the strongest parts of the book. 
Writing Style — 6/10
Tchaikovsky’s prose here is sharp but sabotaged by the choice of narrator. Daghdev’s first-person voice leans way too hard on explaining instead of dramatizing, like he’s lecturing the reader instead of letting me feel the stakes. His constant quips land with the grace of a drunk uncle at a funeral—occasionally funny, mostly tone-deaf. When the writing leans into the strangeness of Kiln, it soars, but Daghdev’s narration keeps dragging it back down into self-satisfied monologues. 
Plot — 8/10
This is a prison break wrapped around a cosmic mystery, and both threads are compelling. The personal struggle against the Mandate’s brutality keeps the tension immediate, while the question of Kiln’s vanished builders stretches things into the mythic.
The reveal—that the “builders” are the planet’s own emergent intelligence—was both high-concept and satisfying, tying the fight for survival to the very biology of the world.
The pacing rarely dragged, and the stakes felt real, though sometimes the resolution veered toward the tidy when I was hoping for messier fallout. 
Intrigue — 8.5/10
I kept flipping pages because I needed answers: What is Kiln? What’s lurking in those ruins?
How do you survive in a world where your dinner might be part octopus, part fungus, and part nightmare jelly?
The layered mysteries of biology and history pulled me along, and the ever-present threat of betrayal inside the penal colony added enough tension to keep things lively. Even when I was annoyed at Daghdev’s voice, I still wanted to see what the planet itself would throw at him next. 
Logic/Relationships — 7.5/10
The world’s rules—biological and political—are watertight, and I appreciated that consistency. The Mandate’s paranoia infects every relationship, so trust feels rare and precious, and that tension makes the alliances that do form believable.
Daghdev’s dynamic with Ilmus and Primatt evolves under real pressure, never feeling like forced camaraderie.
That said, Terolan’s cartoon-villain energy undermined the ideological heft he could’ve carried, and some of the character connections wrap up a little too neatly given the trauma stew they’ve all been simmering in. 
Enjoyment — 8/10
This book was a tug-of-war between my brain and my heart. The brain loved the audacious biology, the tight plotting, the heady ideas about symbiosis and consciousness. The heart got frustrated by the emotional flatness imposed by Daghdev’s irritating narration. Still, the sheer inventiveness of Kiln and the thrill of the unfolding mystery made the ride worth it. I closed the book satisfied, if not completely blown away, and eager to hand it to anyone who enjoys their sci-fi weird, grotesque, and bristling with ideas. 

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