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A review by mllocy
The Fractal Prince by Hannu Rajaniemi
5.0
Nothing pleases me more than when a novel refuses the reader exposition. Instead, they immerse you in the world and let you sink or swim. And let me tell you, that first gulp of air is so sweet. I read 'The Quantum Thief,' to which this book is the sequel. I was worried that, having already swam in that ocean of post-human lives, sentient machines, and cultures based solely on MMORPGs, that navigating these waters would be too easy. I was delightfully wrong. I had many gasps of sweet sweet air, but I was deliciously worried that a wave will come crashing down on me and pull me under. Three cheers for 'The Fractal Prince.'
Jean le Flambeur, the gentleman thief, returns in this novel with a plan to steal the soul of a god. With the help of Mieli, the Oortian warrior woman, and Perhonen, the sentient ship, he travels to an Earth that is at once oddly familiar and unrecognizable.
Again, Hannu Rajaniemi creates a world where, try as you might, you cannot fully grasp it's intricacies. And you aren't supposed to (sometimes I wonder if even he does). This is a post-Singularity human microcosm where all the rules are different and even death can be overcome. A futurist might eagerly anticipate an Earth full of quantum tech, enslaved minds, and stories that can control your body. Or he might recoil in fear. Even the characters, who look at this strange new world with the same jaded eyes that your or I might view our own lives, sometimes react in terror to the ways it has changed.
Some authors take you to alien landscapes in distant galaxies to put a mirror up to humanity. Mr. Rajaniemi keeps us within our solar system, and holds that mirror to our nose. References to ancient human mythologies mixed with startlingly prescient visions keep us staring at that alien face, trying to find our own.
Jean le Flambeur, the gentleman thief, returns in this novel with a plan to steal the soul of a god. With the help of Mieli, the Oortian warrior woman, and Perhonen, the sentient ship, he travels to an Earth that is at once oddly familiar and unrecognizable.
Again, Hannu Rajaniemi creates a world where, try as you might, you cannot fully grasp it's intricacies. And you aren't supposed to (sometimes I wonder if even he does). This is a post-Singularity human microcosm where all the rules are different and even death can be overcome. A futurist might eagerly anticipate an Earth full of quantum tech, enslaved minds, and stories that can control your body. Or he might recoil in fear. Even the characters, who look at this strange new world with the same jaded eyes that your or I might view our own lives, sometimes react in terror to the ways it has changed.
Some authors take you to alien landscapes in distant galaxies to put a mirror up to humanity. Mr. Rajaniemi keeps us within our solar system, and holds that mirror to our nose. References to ancient human mythologies mixed with startlingly prescient visions keep us staring at that alien face, trying to find our own.