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A review by abandonedmegastructure
Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer
challenging
funny
hopeful
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
Too Like the Lightning is a historical book. I don't mean that in the sense that it's a landmark of literature (though to me it is <3), or in the sense that it deals with history-the-subject: I mean that in the sense that it's obviously, overwhelmingly, written by a historian thinking as a historian would. Adopting that mindset is essential to get through the book: learn to make peace with utterly foreign worldviews, frustratingly incomplete exposition, and the contradictory awkwardness of trying to learn objective truth through a subjective source.
The entire book is an in-universe document, occasionally censored or modified by the same ruling powers that show up in the story. The narrator is incredibly unreliable, will deliberately keep key facts silent, and may or may not be lying about a child with supernatural powers. From time to time, the book lapses into script-like raw dialogue, or another character will take over to write a chapter of the book, or the narrator starts arguing with the 'reader', and then has the reader argue back, and then apologizes profusely to this guy he just made up to get deferential at. It's an unique experience, something I've never seen before or again.
Too Like the Lightning isn't a 500-page novel: it's the 500-page setup of a 2000-page novel. That means it serves to introduce the sprawling world so unlike ours, march character after character into the spotlight, and set up plotlines that won't be resolved for another three books. The result is more than a little confusing to read: all I can say in its defense is that everything really does serve a purpose, and if something seems not merely confusing but outright impossible then there's probably something deeper going on and you're correct for picking up on it. Also, it's so good on rereads, everything just falls into place and you'll be stunned how blatantly future plotlines are foreshadowed early on.
What is it actually about, you ask? Philosophy, mostly. Does the end justify the means? Why is there evil in the world? What is the nature of gender? What is the nature of god? Should speech be free or restricted? Questions like these provide the bridge between the individual characters' struggles and the world-spanning events they observe. If you force me to stick to a single adjective, I'd go and label this series thought-provoking more than anything.
Look, if you think you're down to read (and reread) more than half a million words, written with an unique narrative style, describing a fascinating world that raises interesting questions, containing some genuinely hilarious moments, then go for it: the ending is far off, but worth the journey. If that sounds like a lot of effort (and it is, don't get me wrong), I won't fault you for leaving this one be.
The entire book is an in-universe document, occasionally censored or modified by the same ruling powers that show up in the story. The narrator is incredibly unreliable, will deliberately keep key facts silent, and may or may not be lying about a child with supernatural powers. From time to time, the book lapses into script-like raw dialogue, or another character will take over to write a chapter of the book, or the narrator starts arguing with the 'reader', and then has the reader argue back, and then apologizes profusely to this guy he just made up to get deferential at. It's an unique experience, something I've never seen before or again.
Too Like the Lightning isn't a 500-page novel: it's the 500-page setup of a 2000-page novel. That means it serves to introduce the sprawling world so unlike ours, march character after character into the spotlight, and set up plotlines that won't be resolved for another three books. The result is more than a little confusing to read: all I can say in its defense is that everything really does serve a purpose, and if something seems not merely confusing but outright impossible then there's probably something deeper going on and you're correct for picking up on it. Also, it's so good on rereads, everything just falls into place and you'll be stunned how blatantly future plotlines are foreshadowed early on.
What is it actually about, you ask? Philosophy, mostly. Does the end justify the means? Why is there evil in the world? What is the nature of gender? What is the nature of god? Should speech be free or restricted? Questions like these provide the bridge between the individual characters' struggles and the world-spanning events they observe. If you force me to stick to a single adjective, I'd go and label this series thought-provoking more than anything.
Look, if you think you're down to read (and reread) more than half a million words, written with an unique narrative style, describing a fascinating world that raises interesting questions, containing some genuinely hilarious moments, then go for it: the ending is far off, but worth the journey. If that sounds like a lot of effort (and it is, don't get me wrong), I won't fault you for leaving this one be.