Search Results: "roman"

26 May 2026

Russ Allbery: Review: The Keeper of Magical Things

Review: The Keeper of Magical Things, by Julie Leong
Publisher: Ace
Copyright: 2025
ISBN: 0-593-81593-9
Format: Kindle
Pages: 353
The Keeper of Magical Things is a cozy fantasy novel. It is set in the same universe as The Teller of Small Fortunes, but it doesn't share any characters or plot, they're not marketed as a series, and so far as I can remember neither book would spoil the other. It is Julie Leong's second novel. Certainty Bulrush is a novice mage with one reliable magical ability: She can talk to objects and occasionally convince them to do small things. This ability is clearly magical, which means Certainty is indeed a mage, but this appears to be all that her magic can do. The Guild has requirements for the level of magical ability required to become a full mage that go beyond talking stained quilts into unstaining themselves, which is why Certainty has been a novice for six years. This by itself is a problem, since Certainty's cohort keeps passing her by. Worse, though, is that she was counting on the wages of a full mage to pay for her brother's training to become an apothecary. The thought of failing him is extremely upsetting. Certainty therefore jumps at an offered mission to take a cartload of excess magical objects that are causing a dangerous build-up of energies in the Guildtower to safe storage in the small and very unmagical village of Shpelling. Successful completion of that mission will earn Certainty a promotion to Deputy Keeper and therefore to a full mage. This is the opportunity she didn't know to hope for. The only drawback is that she will have to work with Mage Aurelia, the famously off-putting farspeaker and magical scholar the other novices refer to as the ice witch. Aurelia is every bit as icy, formal, and condescending as Certainty was afraid she would be, Shpelling grows nothing but garlic, and the inhabitants are suspicious and hostile. The mission could be a disaster if it weren't for Certainty's stubborn good nature. It's arguably a spoiler to say that there's an enemies to lovers romance, but it's hinted at on the cover, mentioned in the publisher's blurb and, honestly, if you aren't expecting an enemies to lovers romance by a few chapters in, you probably haven't read many books of this sort. I found The Keeper of Magical Things quietly enjoyable but extremely predictable. If you're in the mood for what it's offering, the predictability may not be a problem, but it was the kind of book where the direction the plot was headed was so obvious that I got a bit bored waiting for it to arrive. Certainty has a good heart, humble origins, limited but specialized magical ability, and a self-esteem problem, and if you've read much fantasy, you've probably read two or three or a dozen other books with variations of this protagonist. You know how they generally turn out, and that is indeed what you're going to get after the obligatory setbacks and tragedies and looming catastrophes. Aurelia, similarly, is a variation on a character you've probably met before. Certainty discovers, not long into the book, that the brilliant over-achieving mage wears a necklace (supposedly to help her focus) that constantly whispers to her how inadequate she is and how much harder she needs to work. The necklace was given to her by her parents. This book is not exactly subtle. That said, there's nothing wrong with the characterization. Both Certainty and Aurelia are interesting characters with rounded-out personalities, although it takes a while before Certainty (or the reader) is allowed to see Aurelia's. Their interactions with the inhabitants of Shpelling are fun to watch in the same way that it can be fun to watch people play PowerWash Simulator. You're not in overwhelming suspense about what's going to happen, but the details are amusing and it is satisfying to watch people with good intentions slowly fix things. There is a plot, and a villain, and a not-subtle message about how everyone deserves acknowledgment and respect, and the hours I spent reading about these characters were enjoyable. The problem with this book isn't that there's anything wrong with it, but that it may not give you more enjoyment than another book you could have been reading. I quite liked The Teller of Small Fortunes in part because it surprised me in a few places and the main character felt a bit different than the typical fantasy protagonist. The Keeper of Magical Things felt less original and a bit more obvious and predictable. It was still quietly good-hearted and occasionally charming, and I think I'll still remember Certainty in a few months, but I'm not feeling the urge to push it into anyone's hands. If you're in the mood for a gentle fantasy about finding solutions to people's problems and waiting out the prickliness of people who desperately need a friend, you may enjoy this a great deal. Just don't expect unpredictable twists and turns or a surprising plot structure. An apparent third book in this loose series, The Isle of Lonely Monsters, is currently scheduled for publication in 2027. Rating: 6 out of 10

4 May 2026

Russ Allbery: Review: Full Speed to a Crash Landing

Review: Full Speed to a Crash Landing, by Beth Revis
Series: Chaotic Orbits #1
Publisher: DAW
Copyright: August 2024
ISBN: 0-7564-1947-6
Format: Kindle
Pages: 153
Full Speed to a Crash Landing is a science fiction novella and the first of a series. Beth Revis made the New York Times bestseller list for an earlier series of young adult science fiction novels, but somehow I had not heard of her before this series. Ada Lamarr is a salvager. She picks up material from crashed or dead ships for resale. As the story opens, she has a large hole in the side of her ship, she's running out of oxygen, and the other ship nearby is refusing to answer her distress call. By the time they finally respond, there is barely enough time to get aboard before she is entirely out of air. Ada's first-person narration drops hints that she may not be entirely what she seems. But then, neither is the Halifax, so it's only fair. The captain of the Halifax treats Ada with a great deal of suspicion and wants her out of the way of their ongoing salvage operation. However, the captain does not appear to be entirely in charge. Ada is immediately struck by the mysterious Rian White, who seems to have some authority over their mission and is more thoughtful and calculating than the rest of the crew. He's also handsome, which doesn't hurt. I was tempted to keep writing about the plot, but given the short length of this book, I should stop there and let you enjoy the twists and turns for yourself. This is a fun science fiction action romp: lots of banter, lots of tense moments, and a cagey first-person protagonist with an irrepressible sense of humor and a knack for brazening her way through conversations. It's not long on world-building (there isn't enough room), but Revis works in enough details to be intriguing and to set up some interesting motivations. This is the sort of book that lives and dies by how much you like the protagonist, something that you will easily figure out by the end of an ebook sample if you're the sort of reader who uses those. Ada is irreverent, talkative, and very adroit at diverting attention (entertainingly) onto anything other than the critical piece of information other people are missing. If you want to, I suspect you could easily figure out most of what Ada is up to before the book reveals it explicitly. It's not that complicated, and the book isn't really trying to hide, although it doesn't give you all the necessary information in advance. Personally, I was happy to sit back and enjoy the ride. There is no romance in this book beyond frequent comments from Ada that she would have liked there to be a romance in this book under different circumstances, but I will be surprised if that romance doesn't show up later in the series. Ada and Rian are clearly being set up as a pair. I didn't like Rian as much, mostly because he's less memorable as a character, but he comes into his own in the appendices after the plot proper. I thought those concluding appendices were the best part of the novella and question the Kindle formatting decision to treat them like supplemental material. They purport to be a series of government memos, fill in a lot more of the backstory and world building, and have the best footnotes. Don't skip them! This isn't the sort of book that I am inspired to immediately push into everyone's hands, but it's a fast, well-paced story that delivered a few reading sessions of entertainment. I'm not sure the political philosophy in the background makes a lot of sense, but at least not a standard stereotype of current politics seen in so much science fiction. It's going to set up some interesting character conflict in later books. I'm certainly intrigued enough to keep reading. Recommended when you're in the mood for some fast-paced fun that's short and undemanding. Followed by How to Steal a Galaxy. Rating: 7 out of 10

29 March 2026

Russ Allbery: Review: The Sovereign

Review: The Sovereign, by C.L. Clark
Series: Magic of the Lost #3
Publisher: Orbit
Copyright: September 2025
ISBN: 0-316-54286-5
Format: Kindle
Pages: 575
The Sovereign is the third and concluding book of C.L. Clark's Magic of the Lost high fantasy trilogy. I recommend reading the books of this series close together, since there are a lot of characters and a lot of continuity between books that is helpful to remember, but it was not quite as difficult this time to remember where the story left off. At the end of The Faithless, the political situation in Balladaire (not-France) was more stable, but the threat of a plague lay on the horizon. That threat arrives in earnest in this book, along with new threats from both Balladaire's former colonial conscript soldiers and from neighboring Taargen (not-Germany, sort of, although the parallel isn't as close). Luca and Touraine have finally admitted that they're deeply in love, but they are still very different people with different goals and ethics. Luca is determined to do anything necessary to save her kingdom, but her definition of her kingdom is sharp and brittle. Touraine is torn between far too many loyalties, plus the lingering worry that her morals and Luca's may not be compatible. I think the hardest part of this sort of series is finding an ending the reader will find satisfying. This one, unfortunately, did not work for me, but that may be more due to personal preference than objective flaws. There have been two threads through this series: an improbable romance embedded in a network of complex personal relationships, and a political commentary on colonialism and post-colonial wars. I was enjoying the former, but it was the latter that felt fresh and interesting to me. The plot threads in The Faithless outside of Balladaire expanded that complexity, and I was hoping the final volume would continue in that direction. How could a colonial power atone for its history? How does the former colony establish its own governance? Is there a path to freedom without violence? Are attempts to chart a more moral course doomed to open lines of attack for one's other enemies? It's clear that Clark was thinking about similar themes, but The Sovereign narrows the field instead of widens it, restricts the political options, and then resolves most questions in a massive war. This is not that surprising of a conclusion, but it's one that I found unsatisfying and, honestly, a little boring. Yes, one way to resolve all the competing tensions is for everyone to try to kill each other and whoever survives wins, and historically that's one of the more likely outcomes, but that ending doesn't wrestle with the politics as much as it collapses them. Clark instead focuses this concluding volume on the romance, which becomes even more fraught, tragic, and dramatic than it was in previous books (and that's saying something). The hard questions of divided loyalties and moral conflicts are mostly framed by questions about Touraine's loyalty to Luca and Luca's trust of Touraine. This is all very Shakespearean, full of hard choices, sudden reversals, miscommunication, and a very deep conflict between Luca's realpolitik and Touraine's stubborn personal morality. If this is what you were reading the series for, if you were hoping for a maximum-drama sapphic relationship, you may thoroughly enjoy this. I thought it had its moments, but I wish they had been balanced by more moments of cool-headed practicality and creative political ingenuity. My biggest frustration with this ending is that the characters largely stop doing politics. The political complexity was the strength of both The Unbroken and The Faithless: People who intensely dislike each other negotiate because there is something larger to be gained, personal decisions made without considering the political ramifications have costs, and multiple characters are trying hard to find a way to turn a nasty, exploitative world into something better without simply killing everyone who disagrees. Many of the characters were objectively bad at politics, inexperienced and immature, but they stumbled or dragged or fought their way into political solutions anyway. I thought Clark moved too far away from that in The Sovereign. Everyone goes deep into their own emotions and desire for vengeance or conquest or revolution and stops compromising. To a depressingly large extent, the story is resolved by killing everyone who disagrees. I think the story is poorer for it. One of the other threads of the series is Balladairan magic, or rather its odd absence. Luca has one understanding of it, the rebels introduced in The Faithless have a different understanding of it, and its pursuit is set up as critical to resolving the threat of a plague. We do get an explanation of sorts, but it's not as complete or as satisfying as I was hoping, and the symbolism of Balladaire's missing magic is left frustratingly murky. For me, this has some of the same problems as the political conclusion: I wanted an intellectual catharsis alongside the emotional catharsis, but that was not the direction Clark was taking the story. I like reading about these characters. All of Luca, Touraine, and Pruett are complex, comprehensible, flawed, and often intriguing. But my favorite character in the story, the person I latched on to as an emotional path through the story, was Sabine. Her refreshingly straightforward loyalty and lack of drama was a breath of fresh air. She has some great moments in this book, but there too I got wrong-footed by the direction Clark went with her arc and found its conclusion deeply unsatisfying. I'm not sure how many of these complaints are because of missed opportunities in the novel, how many were due to a mismatch of taste, and how many were due to not being in the right mood to read this conclusion. I'm sure that it didn't help that I read this simultaneous with another novel in which the characters were always miserable, or that I read it in early 2026 with, uh, all that entails. I suspect that if you came away from the first two books invested in the messy romance and wanting MOAR DRAMA, you may get exactly what you were hoping for. That, sadly, was not what I was hoping for. I can't really recommend this. I thought it dragged in places and didn't deliver the ending I wanted. But it has some great moments, it does wrap up the threads of the trilogy as advertised, and at least the romance gets a dramatic climax worthy of the tension that has been built through the previous books. If that matches what you were enjoying in the previous books, you may well enjoy this more than I did. Rating: 5 out of 10

23 March 2026

Russ Allbery: Review: Dark Class

Review: Dark Class, by Michelle Diener
Series: Class 5 #5
Publisher: Eclipse
Copyright: 2022
ISBN: 0-6454658-2-8
Format: Kindle
Pages: 349
Dark Class is the fifth novel (not counting the skippable novella) in Michelle Diener's Class 5 romantic science fiction series. As with the previous novels, this follows romance series conventions: There are new protagonists, but characters from the previous books make an appearance. It's helpful but not that necessary to remember the details of the previous books; the necessary background is explained enough to follow the story. By now, series readers know the formula. Yet another Earth woman was secretly abducted by the Tecran, encounters a Class 5 ship, and finds a way to be surprisingly dangerous and politically destabilizing. This time, Ellie has been mostly unconscious since her abduction and awakes in a secret Tecran base after the Tecran have all been murdered. There is a Class 5 AI involved, but not a full ship; instead, Dark Class picks up (or, arguably, manufactures) a loose end from Dark Minds. Other than that break from the formula, you know what to expected by now: a hunky Grih, a tricky political standoff, a protective Class 5, a slow-burn romance, and a surprisingly capable protagonist who upends politics through plucky grit and refusal to tolerate poor treatment. Oh, and a new selection of salvaged clothing and weapons to make Ellie beautiful and surprisingly dangerous. If you are this far into the series, you probably like the formula. That's my position. I don't care about the romance, but something about the prisoner to threat evolution of the kidnapped protagonists and the growing friendship with an AI makes me happy. This is not great literature, but it is reliably entertaining with a guaranteed victorious protagonist and happy ending, making it a comfortable break from more difficult books with emotionally wrenching scenes. Dark Class is one of the better executions of the formula because it has long stretches of my favorite parts of these books: exploration of mostly-abandoned surroundings for neat gadgets while the AI and the protagonist slowly build a relationship of mutual respect. This book has bonus drones with minds of their own and an enigmatic alien spaceship that provides a fun mid-novel twist. The Tecran and the Grih repeatedly underestimate Ellie and are caught by surprise at dramatically satisfying moments. It's just fun to read, and I save this series for when I need that type of book. As with the other books of the series, Diener's writing is serviceable but not great. She repeats herself, uses way too many paragraph breaks for emphasis, and is not going to win any literary awards for prose quality. The series is in the upper half of self-published works, and I've certainly read worse, but either the formula will click with you or it won't. If it doesn't, the prose is not going to salvage the book. There is some development of the series plot, but it's mostly predictable fallout from Dark Matters. This book is mostly tactical and smaller in scale. I am a little curious where Diener is going with political developments, since the accumulated Earth women and Class 5 ships are in some danger of becoming a sort of shadow government through sheer military power, but I'm dubious this series will have enough political sophistication to dig into the implications. It's best enjoyed as small-scale episodic wish fulfillment for female protagonists, and that's good enough for me. If you've read this far in the series, recommended; this is one of the stronger entries. Followed by Collision Course, which breaks the title convention for the series. Rating: 7 out of 10

1 February 2026

Russ Allbery: Review: Paladin's Faith

Review: Paladin's Faith, by T. Kingfisher
Series: The Saint of Steel #4
Publisher: Red Wombat Studio
Copyright: 2023
ISBN: 1-61450-614-0
Format: Kindle
Pages: 515
Paladin's Faith is the fourth book in T. Kingfisher's loosely connected series of fantasy novels about the berserker former paladins of the Saint of Steel. You could read this as a standalone, but there are numerous (spoilery) references to the previous books in the series. Marguerite, who was central to the plot of the first book in the series, Paladin's Grace, is a spy with a problem. An internal power struggle in the Red Sail, the organization that she's been working for, has left her a target. She has a plan for how to break their power sufficiently that they will hopefully leave her alone, but to pull it off she's going to need help. As the story opens, she is working to acquire that help in a very Marguerite sort of way: breaking into the office of Bishop Beartongue of the Temple of the White Rat. The Red Sail, the powerful merchant organization Marguerite worked for, makes their money in the salt trade. Marguerite has learned that someone invented a cheap and reproducible way to extract salt from sea water, thus making the salt trade irrelevant. The Red Sail wants to ensure that invention never sees the light of day, and has forced the artificer into hiding. Marguerite doesn't know where they are, but she knows where she can find out: the Court of Smoke, where the artificer has a patron.
Having grown up in Anuket City, Marguerite was familiar with many clockwork creations, not to mention all the ways that they could go horribly wrong. (Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it was an explosion. The hundredth time, it ran amok and stabbed innocent bystanders, and the artificer would be left standing there saying, "But I had to put blades on it, or how would it rake the leaves?" while the gutters filled up with blood.)
All Marguerite needs to put her plan into motion is some bodyguards so that she's not constantly distracted and anxious about being assassinated. Readers of this series will be unsurprised to learn that the bodyguards she asks Beartongue for are paladins, including a large broody male one with serious self-esteem problems. This is, like the other books in this series, a slow-burn romance with infuriating communication problems and a male protagonist who would do well to seek out a sack of hammers as a mentor. However, it has two things going for it that most books in this series do not: a long and complex plot to which the romance takes a back seat, and Marguerite, who is not particularly interested in playing along with the expected romance developments. There are also two main paladins in this story, not just one, and the other is one of the two female paladins of the Saint of Steel and rather more entertaining than Shane. I generally like court intrigue stories, which is what fills most of this book. Marguerite is an experienced operative, so the reader gets some solid competence porn, and the paladins are fish out of water but are also unexpectedly dangerous, which adds both comedy and satisfying table-turning. I thoroughly enjoyed the maneuvering and the culture clashes. Marguerite is very good at what she does, knows it, and is entirely uninterested in other people's opinions about that, which short-circuits a lot of Shane's most annoying behavior and keeps the story from devolving into mopey angst like some of the books in this series have done. The end of this book takes the plot in a different direction that adds significantly to the world-building, but also has a (thankfully short) depths of despair segment that I endured rather than enjoyed. I am not really in the mood for bleak hopelessness in my fiction at the moment, even if the reader is fairly sure it will be temporary. But apart from that, I thoroughly enjoyed this book from beginning to end. When we finally meet the artificer, they are an absolute delight in that way that Kingfisher is so good at. The whole story is infused with the sense of determined and competent people refusing to stop trying to fix problems. As usual, the romance was not for me and I think the book would have been better without it, but it's less central to the plot and therefore annoyed me less than any of the books in this series so far. My one major complaint is the lack of gnoles, but we get some new and intriguing world-building to make up for it, along with a setup for a fifth book that I am now extremely curious about. By this point in the series, you probably know if you like the general formula. Compared to the previous book, Paladin's Hope, I thought Paladin's Faith was much stronger and more interesting, but it's clearly of the same type. If, like me, you like the plots but not the romance, the plot here is more substantial. You will have to decide if that makes up for a romance in the typical T. Kingfisher configuration. Personally, I enjoyed this quite a bit, except for the short bleak part, and I'm back to eagerly awaiting the next book in the series. Rating: 8 out of 10

5 January 2026

Colin Watson: Free software activity in December 2025

About 95% of my Debian contributions this month were sponsored by Freexian. You can also support my work directly via Liberapay or GitHub Sponsors. Python packaging I upgraded these packages to new upstream versions: Python 3.14 is now a supported version in unstable, and we re working to get that into testing. As usual this is a pretty arduous effort because it requires going round and fixing lots of odds and ends across the whole ecosystem. We can deal with a fair number of problems by keeping up with upstream (see above), but there tends to be a long tail of packages whose upstreams are less active and where we need to chase them, or where problems only show up in Debian for one reason or another. I spent a lot of time working on this: Fixes for pytest 9: I filed lintian: Report Python egg-info files/directories to help us track the migration to pybuild-plugin-pyproject. I did some work on dh-python: Normalize names in pydist lookups and pyproject plugin: Support headers (the latter of which allowed converting python-persistent and zope.proxy to pybuild-plugin-pyproject, although it needed a follow-up fix). I fixed or helped to fix several other build/test failures: Other bugs: Other bits and pieces Code reviews

31 December 2025

Chris Lamb: Favourites of 2025

Here are my favourite books and movies that I read and watched throughout 2025.

Books

Eliza Clark: Boy Parts (2020)Rachel Cusk: The Outline Trilogy (2014 2018)Edith Wharton: The House of Mirth (1905)Michael Finkel: The Art Thief (2023)Tony Judt: When the Facts Change: Essays 1995-2010 (2010)Jennette McCurdy: I'm Glad My Mom Died (2022)Joan Didion: The Year of Magical Thinking (2005)Jill Lepore: These Truths: A History of the United States (2018)

Films Recent releases

Disappointments this year included 28 Years Later (Danny Boyle, 2025), Cover-Up (Laura Poitras & Mark Obenhaus, 2025), Bugonia (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2025) and Caught Stealing (Darren Aronofsky, 2025).
Older releases ie. Films released before 2024, and not including rewatches from previous years. Distinctly unenjoyable watches included War of the Worlds (Rich Lee, 2025), Highest 2 Lowest (Spike Lee, 2025), Elizabethtown (Cameron Crowe, 2005), Crazy Rich Asians (Jon M. Chu, 2018) and Spinal Tap II: The End Continues (Rob Reiner, 2025). On the other hand, unforgettable cinema experiences this year included big-screen rewatches of Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974), Koyaanisqatsi (Godfrey Reggio, 1982), Heat (Michael Mann, 1995) and Night of the Hunter (Charles Laughton, 1955).

30 December 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Dark Ambitions

Review: Dark Ambitions, by Michelle Diener
Series: Class 5 #4.5
Publisher: Eclipse
Copyright: 2020
ISBN: 1-7637844-2-8
Format: Kindle
Pages: 81
Dark Ambitions is a science fiction romance novella set in Michelle Diener's Class 5 series, following the events of Dark Matters. It returns to Rose as the protagonist and in that sense is a sequel to Dark Horse, but you don't have to remember that book in detail to read this novella. Rose and Dav (and the Class 5 ship Sazo) are escorting an exploration team to a planet that is being evaluated for settlement. Rose has her heart set on going down to the planet, feeling the breeze, and enjoying the plant life. Dav and his ship are called away to deal with a hostage situation. He tries to talk her out of going down without him, but Rose is having none of it. Predictably, hijinks ensue. This is a very slight novella dropped into the middle of the series but not (at least so far as I can tell) important in any way to the overall plot. It provides a bit of a coda to Rose's story from Dark Horse, but given that Rose has made cameos in all of the other books, readers aren't going to learn much new here. According to the Amazon blurb, it was originally published in the Pets in Space 5 anthology. The pet in question is a tiny creature a bit like a flying squirrel that Rose rescues and that then helps Rose in exactly the way that you would predict in this sort of story. This is so slight and predictable that it's hard to find enough to say about it to write a review. Dav is protective in a way that I found annoying and kind of sexist. Rose doesn't let that restrict her decisions, but seems to find this behavior more charming than I did. There is a tiny bit of Rose being awesome but a bit more damsel in distress than the series usually goes for. The cute animal is cute. There's the obligatory armory scene with another round of technomagical weapons that I think has appeared in every book in this series. It all runs on rather obvious rails. There is a subplot involving Rose feeling some mysterious illness while on the planet that annoyed me entirely out of proportion to how annoying it is objectively, mostly because mysterious illnesses tend to ramp up my anxiety, which is not a pleasant reading emotion. This objection is probably specific to me. This is completely skippable. I was told that in advance and thus only have myself to blame, but despite my completionist streak, I wish I'd skipped it. We learn one piece of series information that will probably come up in the future, but it's not the sort of information that would lead me to seek out a story about it. Otherwise, there's nothing wrong with it, really, but it would be a minor and entirely forgettable chapter in a longer novel, padded out with a cute animal and Dav trying to be smothering. Not recommended just because you probably have something better to do with that reading time (reading the next full book of the series, for example), but there's nothing wrong with this if you want to read it anyway. Followed by Dark Class. Rating: 5 out of 10

15 December 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Brigands & Breadknives

Review: Brigands & Breadknives, by Travis Baldree
Series: Legends & Lattes #3
Publisher: Tor
Copyright: 2025
ISBN: 1-250-33489-6
Format: Kindle
Pages: 325
Brigands & Breadknives is a secondary-world sword-and-sorcery fantasy and a sequel to both Legends & Lattes and Bookshops & Bonedust. It takes place shortly after Legends & Lattes chronologically, but Fern, the protagonist, was introduced in the Bookshops & Bonedust prequel. You may have noticed I didn't describe this as cozy fantasy. That is intentional. When we left Fern at the end of Bookshops & Bonedust, the rattkin was running a bookshop in the town of Murk. As Brigands & Breadknives opens, Fern is moving, for complicated and hard-to-describe personal reasons, to Thune where Viv has her coffee shop. Her plan is to open a new bookstore next door to Legends and Lattes. This is exactly the sort of plot one might expect from this series, and the first few chapters feel like yet another version of the first two novels. Then Fern makes an impulsive and rather inexplicable (even to herself) decision and the plot goes delightfully sideways. Brigands & Breadknives is not, as Baldree puts it in the afterword, a book about fantasy small-business ownership as the answer to all of life's woes. It is, instead, a sword and sorcery story about a possibly immortal elven bounty hunter, her utterly baffling goblin prisoner, and a rattkin bookseller who becomes their unexpected travel companion for reasons she can't explain. It's a story about a mid-life crisis in a world and with supporting characters that I can only describe as inspired by a T. Kingfisher novel. Baldree is not Ursula Vernon, of course. This book does not contain paladins or a romance, possibly to the relief of some readers. It's slower, a bit more introspective, and doesn't have as sharp of edges or the casual eerie unsettlingness. But there is a religious order that worships a tentacled space horror for entirely unexpected reasons, pompous and oleaginous talking swords with verbose opinions about everything, a mischievously chaotic orange-haired goblin who quickly became one of my favorite fantasy characters and then kept getting better, and a whole lot of heart. You may see why Kingfisher was my first thought for a comparison point. Unlike Baldree's previous novels, there is a lot of combat and injury. I think some people will still describe this book as cozy, and I'm not going to argue too strongly because the conflicts are a bit lighter than the sort of rape and murder one would see in a Mercedes Lackey novel. But to me this felt like sword and sorcery in a Dungeons and Dragons universe made more interesting by letting the world-building go feral and a little bit sarcastic. Most of the book is spent traveling, there are a lot of random encounters that build into a connected plot, and some scenes (particularly the defense of the forest village) felt like they could have sold to the Swords and Sorceress anthology series. Also, this was really good! I liked both Legends & Lattes and Bookshops & Bonedust, maybe a bit more than the prevailing opinion among reviewers since the anachronisms never bothered me, but I wasn't sure whether to dive directly into this book because I was expecting more of the same. This is not more of the same. I think it's clearly better writing and world-building than either of the previous books. It helps that Fern is the protagonist; as much as I like Viv, I think Fern is a more interesting character, and I am glad she got a book of her own. Baldree takes a big risk on the emotional arc of this book. Fern starts the story in a bad state and makes some decisions to kick off the plot that are difficult to defend. She beats herself up for those decisions for most of the book, deservedly, and parts of that emotional turmoil are difficult to read. Baldree resists the urge to smooth everything over and instead provides a rather raw sense of depression, avoidance, and social anxiety that some readers are going to have to brace themselves for. I respect the decision to not write the easy series book people probably expected, but I'm not sure Fern's emotional arc quite worked. Baldree is hinting at something that's hard to describe logically, and I'm not sure he was able to draw a clear enough map of Fern's thought process for the reader to understand her catharsis. The "follow your passion" self-help mindset has formed a gravitational singularity in the vicinity of this book's theme, it takes some skillful piloting to avoid being sucked into its event horizon, and I don't think Baldree quite managed to escape it. He made a valiant attempt, though, and it created a far more interesting book than one about safer emotions. I wanted more of an emotional payoff than I got, but the journey, even with the moments of guilt and anxiety, was so worth it. The world-building is funnier and more interesting than the previous books of the series, and the supporting cast is fantastic. If you bailed on the series but you like sword and sorcery and T. Kingfisher novels, consider returning. You do probably need to read Bookshops & Bonedust first, if you haven't already, since it helps to know the start of Fern's story. Recommended, and shortcomings aside, much better than I had expected. Content notes: Bloody sword fights, major injury, some very raw emotions about letting down friends and destroying friendships. Rating: 8 out of 10

1 December 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Forever and a Day

Review: Forever and a Day, by Haley Cass
Series: Those Who Wait #1.5
Publisher: Haley Cass
Copyright: 2020
ISBN: 979-8-5902-5966-3
Format: Kindle
Pages: 101
Forever and a Day is a coda to Haley Cass's self-published sapphic romance novel Those Who Wait. There is no point in reading it unless you have already read and enjoyed the full book and wanted more of a denouement. Given that Those Who Wait is a romance novel, it is definitionally not a spoiler to reveal that Sutton and Charlotte ended up together. This novella is seven scenes sketching out the next few years of their lives, interspersed with press clippings and social media commentary. These tie up loose ends, give the characters a bit more time together, throw in one more conflict and resolution, add one more sex scene, and stick a few exclamation points after the happily ever after. I am the sort of person who likes long denouements in stories, so I'm the target audience for this sort of sequel that's essentially additional chapters to the book. (The funniest version of this I've read is Jacqueline Carey's Saints Astray.) They are usually not great literature, since there are good reasons for not including these chapters in the book. That is exactly what this is: a few more chapters of the characters being happy, entirely forgettable, and of interest only to people who want that. Cass does try to introduce a bit of a plot via some light family conflict, which was sweet and mostly worked, and some conflict over having children, which was very stereotyped and which I did not enjoy as much. I thought the earlier chapters of this novella were the stronger ones, although I do have to give the characters credit in the later chapters for working through conflict in a mature and fairly reasonable way. It does help, though, when the conflict is entirely resolved by one character being right and the other character being happily wrong. That's character conflict on easy mode. I was happy to see that Sutton got a career, although as in the novel I wish Cass had put some more effort into describing Sutton's efforts in building that career. The details are maddeningly vague, which admittedly matches the maddeningly vague description of Charlotte's politics but which left me unsatisfied. Charlotte's political career continues to be pure wish fulfillment in the most utterly superficial and trivialized way, and it bothered me even more in the novella than it did in the novel. We still have absolutely no idea what she stands for, what she wants to accomplish, and why anyone would vote for her, and yet we get endless soft-focus paeans to how wonderful she will be for the country. Her opponents are similarly vague to the point that the stereotypes Cass uses to signal their inferiority to Charlotte are a little suspect. I'm more critical of this in 2025 than I would have been in 2015 because the last ten years have made clear the amount of damage an absolute refusal to stand for anything except hazy bromides causes, and I probably shouldn't be this annoyed that Cass chose to vaguely gesture towards progressive liberalism without muddying her romance denouement with a concrete political debate. But, just, gah. I found the last chapter intensely annoying, in part because the narrative of that chapter was too cliched and trite to sufficiently distract me from the bad taste of the cotton-candy politics. Other than that, this was minor, sweet, and forgettable. If you want another few chapters of an already long novel, this delivers exactly what you would expect. If the novel was plenty, nothing about this novella is going to change your mind and you can safely skip it. I really liked the scene between Charlotte and Sutton's mom, though, and I'm glad I read the novella just for that. Rating: 6 out of 10

30 November 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: The Last Soul Among Wolves

Review: The Last Soul Among Wolves, by Melissa Caruso
Series: The Echo Archives #2
Publisher: Orbit
Copyright: August 2025
ISBN: 0-316-30404-2
Format: Kindle
Pages: 355
The Last Soul Among Wolves is urban high fantasy with strong mystery vibes. It is a direct sequel to The Last Hour Between Worlds. You need the previous book for some character setup (and this book would spoil it badly), but you don't have to remember the first book in detail. Only the main plot outcomes are directly relevant and the characters will remind you of those. Kembrel Thorne is a Hound, the equivalent of a police detective in the medieval-inspired city setting of this series, but this book does not open with an official assignment. Instead, she has been dragged by her childhood friend Jaycel Morningrey as company for a reading of the will of old lady Lovegrace, reclusive owner of a gothic mansion on an island connected to the city by an intermittent sandbar. A surprise reunion with her gang of childhood friends ensues, followed by the revelation that they are all in serious trouble. Shortly after Kem left the group to become a Hound, the remaining four, plus several other apparently random people, got entangled with a powerful Echo artifact. Now that Lovegrace has died, one of them will inherit the artifact and the ability to make a wish, but only one. The rest will be killed at decreasing intervals until only the winner is left alive. The Last Hour Between Worlds was fae fantasy built around a problem that was more of a puzzle than a mystery. The Last Soul Among Wolves is closer to a classic mystery: A cast of characters are brought together and semi-isolated in a rural house, they start dying, and it's up to the detective to solve the mystery of their death before it's too late. In this case, the initial mechanism of death is supernatural and not in doubt the challenge instead is how to stop it from happening again but Kem's problems quickly become more complicated. As mystery plots go, this is more thriller than classical despite the setting. There are a few scenes of analyzing clues, but Kem is more likely to use the time-honored protagonist technique of throwing herself into danger and learning what's going on via the villain monologues. As readers of the previous book would expect, Rika Nonesuch is here too, hired by another of Kem's old friends, and the two navigate their personal feelings and the rivalry between their guilds in much the way that they did in the Last Hour Between Worlds. As in the first book, there is a sapphic romance subplot, but it's a very slow burn asexual romance. The best part of this series continues to be the world-building. The previous book introduced the idea of the Echoes and sent the characters exploring into stranger and stranger depths. This book fleshes out the rules in more detail, creating something that feels partly like a fae realm and partly like high fantasy involving gods, but diverges from both into a logic of its own. The ending satisfyingly passes my test of fantasy mysteries: Resolving the mystery requires understanding and applying the rules of the setting, which are sufficiently strange to create interesting outcomes but coherent enough that the reader doesn't feel like the author is cheating. There are some hissable villains here, but my favorite part of this book was the way Caruso added a lot of nuance and poignancy to the Echoes rather than showing them only as an uncanny threat. That choice made the world feel deeper and richer. It's not yet clear whether that element is setup for a longer-term series plot, but I hope Caruso will develop the story in that direction. It felt to me like Caruso is aiming for an ongoing series rather than a multi-volume story with a definite ending. She avoids a full episodic reset Rika, in particular, gets considerable character development and new complications that bode well for future volumes but it doesn't feel like the series is building towards an imminent climax. This is not a complaint. I enjoy these characters and this world and will happily keep devouring each new series entry. If you liked The Last Hour Between Worlds, I think you will like this. It doesn't have the same delight of initial discovery of the great world-building, but the plot is satisfying and a bit more complex and the supporting characters are even better than those in the first book. Once again, Caruso kept me turning the pages, and I'm now looking forward to a third volume. Recommended. The third book in the series has not yet been announced, but there are indications on social media that it is coming. Rating: 7 out of 10

16 November 2025

Russ Allbery: Cumulative haul

I haven't posted a book haul in forever, so lots of stuff stacked up, including a new translation of Bambi that I really should get around to reading. Nicholas & Olivia Atwater A Matter of Execution (sff)
Nicholas & Olivia Atwater Echoes of the Imperium (sff)
Travis Baldree Brigands & Breadknives (sff)
Elizabeth Bear The Folded Sky (sff)
Melissa Caruso The Last Hour Between Worlds (sff)
Melissa Caruso The Last Soul Among Wolves (sff)
Haley Cass Forever and a Day (romance)
C.L. Clark Ambessa: Chosen of the Wolf (sff)
C.L. Clark Fate's Bane (sff)
C.L. Clark The Sovereign (sff)
August Clarke Metal from Heaven (sff)
Erin Elkin A Little Vice (sff)
Audrey Faye Alpha (sff)
Emanuele Galletto, et al. Fabula Ultima: Core Rulebook (rpg)
Emanuele Galletto, et al. Fabula Ultima: Atlas High Fantasy (rpg)
Emanuele Galletto, et al. Fabula Ultima: Atlas Techno Fantasy (rpg)
Alix E. Harrow The Everlasting (sff)
Alix E. Harrow Starling House (sff)
Antonia Hodgson The Raven Scholar (sff)
Bel Kaufman Up the Down Staircase (mainstream)
Guy Gavriel Kay All the Seas of the World (sff)
N.K. Jemisin & Jamal Campbell Far Sector (graphic novel)
Mary Robinette Kowal The Martian Conspiracy (sff)
Matthew Kressel Space Trucker Jess (sff)
Mark Lawrence The Book That Held Her Heart (sff)
Yoon Ha Lee Moonstorm (sff)
Michael Lewis (ed.) Who Is Government? (non-fiction)
Aidan Moher Fight, Magic, Items (non-fiction)
Saleha Mohsin Paper Soldiers (non-fiction)
Ada Palmer Inventing the Renaissance (non-fiction)
Suzanne Palmer Driving the Deep (sff)
Suzanne Palmer The Scavenger Door (sff)
Suzanne Palmer Ghostdrift (sff)
Terry Pratchett Where's My Cow (graphic novel)
Felix Salten & Jack Zipes (trans.) The Original Bambi (classic)
L.M. Sagas Cascade Failure (sff)
Jenny Schwartz The House That Walked Between Worlds (sff)
Jenny Schwartz House in Hiding (sff)
Jenny Schwartz The House That Fought (sff)
N.D. Stevenson Scarlet Morning (sff)
Rory Stewart Politics on the Edge (non-fiction)
Emily Tesh The Incandescent (sff)
Brian K. Vaughan & Fiona Staples Saga #1 (graphic novel)
Scott Warren The Dragon's Banker (sff)
Sarah Wynn-Williams Careless People (non-fiction) As usual, I have already read and reviewed a whole bunch of these. More than I had expected, actually, given that I've not had a great reading year this year so far. I am, finally, almost caught up with reviews, with just one book read and not yet reviewed. And hopefully I'll have lots of time to read for the last month and a half of the year.

28 October 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Those Who Wait

Review: Those Who Wait, by Haley Cass
Publisher: Haley Cass
Copyright: 2020
ISBN: 979-8-9884929-1-7
Format: Kindle
Pages: 556
Those Who Wait is a stand-alone self-published sapphic romance novel. Given the lack of connection between political figures named in this book and our reality, it's also technically an alternate history, but it will be entirely unsatisfying to anyone who reads it in that genre. Sutton Spencer is an English grad student in New York City. As the story opens, she has recently realized that she's bisexual rather than straight. She certainly has not done anything about that revelation; the very thought makes her blush. Her friend and roommate Regan, not known for either her patience or her impulse control, decides to force the issue by stealing Sutton's phone, creating a profile on a lesbian dating app, and messaging the first woman Sutton admits being attracted to. Charlotte Thompson is a highly ambitious politician, current deputy mayor of New York City for health and human services, and granddaughter of the first female president of the United States. She fully intends to become president of the United States herself. The next step on that path is an open special election for a seat in the House of Representatives. With her family political connections and the firm support of the mayor of New York City (who is also dating her brother), she thinks she has an excellent shot of winning. Charlotte is also a lesbian, something she's known since she was a teenager and which still poses serious problems for a political career. She is therefore out to her family and a few close friends, but otherwise in the closet. Compared to her political ambitions, Charlotte considers her love life almost irrelevant, and therefore has a strict policy of limiting herself to anonymous one-night stands arranged on dating apps. Even that is about to become impossible given her upcoming campaign, but she indulges in one last glance at SapphicSpark before she deletes her account. Sutton is as far as possible from the sort of person who does one-night stands, which is a shame as far as Charlotte is concerned. It would have been a fun last night out. Despite that, both of them find the other unexpectedly enjoyable to chat with. (There are a lot of text message bubbles in this book.) This is when Sutton has her brilliant idea: Charlotte is charming, experienced, and also kind and understanding of Sutton's anxiety, at least in app messages. Maybe Charlotte can be her mentor? Tell her how to approach women, give her some guidance, point her in the right directions. Given the genre, you can guess how this (eventually) turns out. I'm going to say a lot of good things about this book, so let me get the complaints over with first. As you might guess from that introduction, Charlotte's political career and the danger of being outed are central to this story. This is a bit unfortunate because you should not, under any circumstances, attempt to think deeply about the politics in this book. In 550 pages, Charlotte does not mention or expound a single meaningful political position. You come away from this book as ignorant about what Charlotte wants to accomplish as a politician as you entered. Apparently she wants to be president because her grandmother was president and she thinks she'd be good at it. The closest the story comes to a position is something unbelievably vague about homeless services and Charlotte's internal assertion that she wants to help people and make real change. There are even transcripts of media interviews, later in the book, and they somehow manage to be more vacuous than US political talk shows, which is saying something. I also can't remember a single mention of fundraising anywhere in this book, which in US politics is absurd (although I will be generous and say this is due to Cass's alternate history). I assume this was a deliberate choice and Cass didn't want politics to distract from the romance, but as someone with a lot of opinions about concrete political issues, the resulting vague soft-liberal squishiness was actively off-putting. In an actual politician, this would be an entire clothesline of red flags. Thankfully, it's ignorable for the same reason; this is so obviously not the focus of the book that one can mostly perform the same sort of mental trick that one does when ignoring the backdrop in a cheap theater. My second complaint is that I don't know what Sutton does outside of the romance. Yes, she's an English grad student, and she does some grading and some vaguely-described work and is later referred to a prestigious internship, but this is as devoid of detail as Charlotte's political positions. It's not quite as jarring because Cass does eventually show Sutton helping concretely with her mother's work (about which I have some other issues that I won't get into), but it deprives Sutton of an opportunity to be visibly expert in something. The romance setup casts Charlotte as the experienced one to Sutton's naivete, and I think it would have been a better balance to give Sutton something concrete and tangible that she was clearly better at than Charlotte. Those complaints aside, I quite enjoyed this. It was a recommendation from the same BookTuber who recommended Delilah Green Doesn't Care, so her recommendations are quickly accumulating more weight. The chemistry between Sutton and Charlotte is quite believable; the dialogue sparkles, the descriptions of the subtle cues they pick up from each other are excellent, and it's just fun to read about how they navigate a whole lot of small (and sometimes large) misunderstandings and mismatches in personality and world view. Normally, misunderstandings are my least favorite part of a romance novel, but Sutton and Charlotte come from such different perspectives that their misunderstandings feel more justified than is typical. The characters are also fairly mature about working through them: Main characters who track the other character down and insist on talking when something happens they don't understand! Can you imagine! Only with the third-act breakup is the reader dragged through multiple chapters of both characters being miserable, and while I also usually hate third-act breakups, this one is so obviously coming and so clearly advertised from the initial setup that I couldn't really be mad. I did wish the payoff make-up scene at the end of the book had a bit more oomph, though; I thought Sutton's side of it didn't have quite the emotional catharsis that it could have had. I particularly enjoyed the reasons why the two characters fall in love, and how different they are. Charlotte is delighted by Sutton because she's awkward and shy but also straightforward and frequently surprisingly blunt, which fits perfectly with how much Charlotte is otherwise living in a world of polished politicians in constant control of their personas. Sutton's perspective is more physical, but the part I liked was the way that she treats Charlotte like a puzzle. Rather than trying to change how Charlotte expresses herself, she instead discovers that she's remarkably good at reading Charlotte if she trusts her instincts. There was something about Sutton's growing perceptiveness that I found quietly delightful. It's the sort of non-sexual intimacy that often gets lost among the big emotions in romance novels. The supporting cast was also great. Both characters have deep support networks of friends and family who are unambiguously on their side. Regan is pure chaos, and I would not be friends with her, but Cass shows her deep loyalty in a way that makes her dynamic with Sutton make sense. Both characters have thoughtful and loving families who support them but don't make decisions for them, which is a nice change of pace from the usually more mixed family situations of romance novel protagonists. There's a lot of emotional turbulence in the main relationship, and I think that only worked for me because of how rock-solid and kind the supporting cast is. This is, as you might guess from the title, a very slow burn, although the slow burn is for the emotional relationship rather than the physical one (for reasons that would be spoilers). As usual, I have no calibration for spiciness level, but I'd say that this was roughly on par with the later books in the Bright Falls series. If you know something about politics (or political history) and try to take that part of this book seriously, it will drive you to drink, but if you can put that aside and can deal with misunderstandings and emotional turmoil, this was both fun and satisfying. I liked both of the characters, I liked the timing of the alternating viewpoints, and I believed in the relationship and chemistry, as improbable and chaotic as some of the setup was. It's not the greatest thing I ever read, and I wish the ending was a smidgen stronger, but it was an enjoyable way to spend a few reading days. Recommended. Rating: 7 out of 10

23 October 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Politics on the Edge

Review: Politics on the Edge, by Rory Stewart
Publisher: Penguin Books
Copyright: 2023, 2025
Printing: 2025
ISBN: 979-8-217-06167-9
Format: Kindle
Pages: 429
Rory Stewart is a former British diplomat, non-profit executive, member of Parliament, and cabinet minister. Politics on the Edge is a memoir of his time in the UK Parliament from 2019 to 2019 as a Tory (Conservative) representing the Penrith and The Border constituency in northern England. It ends with his failed run against Boris Johnson for leader of the Conservative Party and Prime Minister. This book provoked many thoughts, only some of which are about the book. You may want to get a beverage; this review will be long. Since this is a memoir told in chronological order, a timeline may be useful. After Stewart's time as a regional governor in occupied Iraq (see The Prince of the Marshes), he moved to Kabul to found and run an NGO to preserve traditional Afghani arts and buildings (the Turquoise Mountain Foundation, about which I know nothing except what Stewart wrote in this book). By his telling, he found that work deeply rewarding but thought the same politicians who turned Iraq into a mess were going to do the same to Afghanistan. He started looking for ways to influence the politics more directly, which led him first to Harvard and then to stand for Parliament. The bulk of this book covers Stewart's time as MP for Penrith and The Border. The choice of constituency struck me as symbolic of Stewart's entire career: He was not a resident and had no real connection to the district, which he chose for political reasons and because it was the nearest viable constituency to his actual home in Scotland. But once he decided to run, he moved to the district and seems sincerely earnest in his desire to understand it and become part of its community. After five years as a backbencher, he joined David Cameron's government in a minor role as Minister of State in the Department for Environment, Food, and Rural Affairs. He then bounced through several minor cabinet positions (more on this later) before being elevated to Secretary of State for International Development under Theresa May. When May's government collapsed during the fight over the Brexit agreement, he launched a quixotic challenge to Boris Johnson for leader of the Conservative Party. I have enjoyed Rory Stewart's writing ever since The Places in Between. This book is no exception. Whatever one's other feelings about Stewart's politics (about which I'll have a great deal more to say), he's a talented memoir writer with an understated and contemplative style and a deft ability to shift from concrete description to philosophical debate without bogging down a story. Politics on the Edge is compelling reading at the prose level. I spent several afternoons happily engrossed in this book and had great difficulty putting it down. I find Stewart intriguing since, despite being a political conservative, he's neither a neoliberal nor any part of the new right. He is instead an apparently-sincere throwback to a conservatism based on epistemic humility, a veneration of rural life and long-standing traditions, and a deep commitment to the concept of public service. Some of his principles are baffling to me, and I think some of his political views are obvious nonsense, but there were several things that struck me throughout this book that I found admirable and depressingly rare in politics. First, Stewart seems to learn from his mistakes. This goes beyond admitting when he was wrong and appears to include a willingness to rethink entire philosophical positions based on new experience.
I had entered Iraq supporting the war on the grounds that we could at least produce a better society than Saddam Hussein's. It was one of the greatest mistakes in my life. We attempted to impose programmes made up by Washington think tanks, and reheated in air-conditioned palaces in Baghdad a new taxation system modelled on Hong Kong; a system of ministers borrowed from Singapore; and free ports, modelled on Dubai. But we did it ultimately at the point of a gun, and our resources, our abstract jargon and optimistic platitudes could not conceal how much Iraqis resented us, how much we were failing, and how humiliating and degrading our work had become. Our mission was a grotesque satire of every liberal aspiration for peace, growth and democracy.
This quote comes from the beginning of this book and is a sentiment Stewart already expressed in The Prince of the Marshes, but he appears to have taken this so seriously that it becomes a theme of his political career. He not only realized how wrong he was on Iraq, he abandoned the entire neoliberal nation-building project without abandoning his belief in the moral obligation of international aid. And he, I think correctly, identified a key source of the error: an ignorant, condescending superiority that dismissed the importance of deep expertise.
Neither they, nor indeed any of the 12,000 peacekeepers and policemen who had been posted to South Sudan from sixty nations, had spent a single night in a rural house, or could complete a sentence in Dinka, Nuer, Azande or Bande. And the international development strategy written jointly between the donor nations resembled a fading mission statement found in a new space colony, whose occupants had all been killed in an alien attack.
Second, Stewart sincerely likes ordinary people. This shone through The Places in Between and recurs here in his descriptions of his constituents. He has a profound appreciation for individual people who have spent their life learning some trade or skill, expresses thoughtful and observant appreciation for aspects of local culture, and appears to deeply appreciate time spent around people from wildly different social classes and cultures than his own. Every successful politician can at least fake gregariousness, and perhaps that's all Stewart is doing, but there is something specific and attentive about his descriptions of other people, including long before he decided to enter politics, that makes me think it goes deeper than political savvy. Third, Stewart has a visceral hatred of incompetence. I think this is the strongest through-line of his politics in this book: Jobs in government are serious, important work; they should be done competently and well; and if one is not capable of doing that, one should not be in government. Stewart himself strikes me as an insecure overachiever: fiercely ambitious, self-critical, a bit of a micromanager (I suspect he would be difficult to work for), but holding himself to high standards and appalled when others do not do the same. This book is scathing towards multiple politicians, particularly Boris Johnson whom Stewart clearly despises, but no one comes off worse than Liz Truss.
David Cameron, I was beginning to realise, had put in charge of environment, food and rural affairs a Secretary of State who openly rejected the idea of rural affairs and who had little interest in landscape, farmers or the environment. I was beginning to wonder whether he could have given her any role she was less suited to apart perhaps from making her Foreign Secretary. Still, I could also sense why Cameron was mesmerised by her. Her genius lay in exaggerated simplicity. Governing might be about critical thinking; but the new style of politics, of which she was a leading exponent, was not. If critical thinking required humility, this politics demanded absolute confidence: in place of reality, it offered untethered hope; instead of accuracy, vagueness. While critical thinking required scepticism, open-mindedness and an instinct for complexity, the new politics demanded loyalty, partisanship and slogans: not truth and reason but power and manipulation. If Liz Truss worried about the consequences of any of this for the way that government would work, she didn't reveal it.
And finally, Stewart has a deeply-held belief in state capacity and capability. He and I may disagree on the appropriate size and role of the government in society, but no one would be more disgusted by an intentional project to cripple government in order to shrink it than Stewart. One of his most-repeated criticisms of the UK political system in this book is the way the cabinet is formed. All ministers and secretaries come from members of Parliament and therefore branches of government are led by people with no relevant expertise. This is made worse by constant cabinet reshuffles that invalidate whatever small amounts of knowledge a minister was able to gain in nine months or a year in post. The center portion of this book records Stewart's time being shuffled from rural affairs to international development to Africa to prisons, with each move representing a complete reset of the political office and no transfer of knowledge whatsoever.
A month earlier, they had been anticipating every nuance of Minister Rogerson's diary, supporting him on shifts twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. But it was already clear that there would be no pretence of a handover no explanation of my predecessor's strategy, and uncompleted initiatives. The arrival of a new minister was Groundhog Day. Dan Rogerson was not a ghost haunting my office, he was an absence, whose former existence was suggested only by the black plastic comb.
After each reshuffle, Stewart writes of trying to absorb briefings, do research, and learn enough about his new responsibilities to have the hope of making good decisions, while growing increasingly frustrated with the system and the lack of interest by most of his colleagues in doing the same. He wants government programs to be successful and believes success requires expertise and careful management by the politicians, not only by the civil servants, a position that to me both feels obviously correct and entirely at odds with politics as currently practiced. I found this a fascinating book to read during the accelerating collapse of neoliberalism in the US and, to judge by current polling results, the UK. I have a theory that the political press are so devoted to a simplistic left-right political axis based on seating arrangements during the French Revolution that they are missing a significant minority whose primary political motivation is contempt for arrogant incompetence. They could be convinced to vote for Sanders or Trump, for Polanski or Farage, but will never vote for Biden, Starmer, Romney, or Sunak. Such voters are incomprehensible to those who closely follow and debate policies because their hostile reaction to the center is not about policies. It's about lack of trust and a nebulous desire for justice. They've been promised technocratic competence and the invisible hand of market forces for most of their lives, and all of it looks like lies. Everyday living is more precarious, more frustrating, more abusive and dehumanizing, and more anxious, despite (or because of) this wholehearted embrace of economic "freedom." They're sick of every complaint about the increasing difficulty of life being met with accusations about their ability and work ethic, and of being forced to endure another round of austerity by people who then catch a helicopter ride to a party on some billionaire's yacht. Some of this is inherent in the deep structural weaknesses in neoliberal ideology, but this is worse than an ideological failure. The degree to which neoliberalism started as a project of sincere political thinkers is arguable, but that is clearly not true today. The elite class in politics and business is now thoroughly captured by people whose primary skill is the marginal manipulation of complex systems for their own power and benefit. They are less libertarian ideologues than narcissistic mediocrities. We are governed by management consultants. They are firmly convinced their organizational expertise is universal, and consider the specific business of the company, or government department, irrelevant. Given that context, I found Stewart's instinctive revulsion towards David Cameron quite revealing. Stewart, later in the book, tries to give Cameron some credit by citing several policy accomplishments and comparing him favorably to Boris Johnson (which, true, is a bar Cameron probably flops over). But I think Stewart's baffled astonishment at Cameron's vapidity says a great deal about how we have ended up where we are. This last quote is long, but I think it provides a good feel for Stewart's argument in this book.
But Cameron, who was rumoured to be sceptical about nation-building projects, only nodded, and then looking confidently up and down the table said, "Well, at least we all agree on one extremely straightforward and simple point, which is that our troops are doing very difficult and important work and we should all support them." It was an odd statement to make to civilians running humanitarian operations on the ground. I felt I should speak. "No, with respect, we do not agree with that. Insofar as we have focused on the troops, we have just been explaining that what the troops are doing is often futile, and in many cases making things worse." Two small red dots appeared on his cheeks. Then his face formed back into a smile. He thanked us, told us he was out of time, shook all our hands, and left the room. Later, I saw him repeat the same line in interviews: "the purpose of this visit is straightforward... it is to show support for what our troops are doing in Afghanistan". The line had been written, in London, I assumed, and tested on focus groups. But he wanted to convince himself it was also a position of principle. "David has decided," one of his aides explained, when I met him later, "that one cannot criticise a war when there are troops on the ground." "Why?" "Well... we have had that debate. But he feels it is a principle of British government." "But Churchill criticised the conduct of the Boer War; Pitt the war with America. Why can't he criticise wars?" "British soldiers are losing their lives in this war, and we can't suggest they have died in vain." "But more will die, if no one speaks up..." "It is a principle thing. And he has made his decision. For him and the party." "Does this apply to Iraq too?" "Yes. Again he understands what you are saying, but he voted to support the Iraq War, and troops are on the ground." "But surely he can say he's changed his mind?" The aide didn't answer, but instead concentrated on his food. "It is so difficult," he resumed, "to get any coverage of our trip." He paused again. "If David writes a column about Afghanistan, we will struggle to get it published." "But what would he say in an article anyway?" I asked. "We can talk about that later. But how do you get your articles on Afghanistan published?" I remembered how the US politicians and officials had shown their mastery of strategy and detail. I remembered the earnestness of Gordon Brown when I had briefed him on Iraq. Cameron seemed somehow less serious. I wrote as much in a column in the New York Times, saying that I was afraid the party of Churchill was becoming the party of Bertie Wooster.
I don't know Stewart's reputation in Britain, or in the constituency that he represented. I know he's been accused of being a self-aggrandizing publicity hound, and to some extent this is probably true. It's hard to find an ambitious politician who does not have that instinct. But whatever Stewart's flaws, he can, at least, defend his politics with more substance than a corporate motto. One gets the impression that he would respond favorably to demonstrated competence linked to a careful argument, even if he disagreed. Perhaps this is an illusion created by his writing, but even if so, it's a step in the right direction. When people become angry enough at a failing status quo, any option that promises radical change and punishment for the current incompetents will sound appealing. The default collapse is towards demagogues who are skilled at expressing anger and disgust and are willing to promise simple cures because they are indifferent to honesty. Much of the political establishment in the US, and possibly (to the small degree that I can analyze it from an occasional news article) in the UK, can identify the peril of the demagogue, but they have no solution other than a return to "politics as usual," represented by the amoral mediocrity of a McKinsey consultant. The rare politicians who seem to believe in something, who will argue for personal expertise and humility, who are disgusted by incompetence and have no patience for facile platitudes, are a breath of fresh air. There are a lot of policies on which Stewart and I would disagree, and perhaps some of his apparent humility is an affectation from the rhetorical world of the 1800s that he clearly wishes he were inhabiting, but he gives the strong impression of someone who would shoulder a responsibility and attempt to execute it with competence and attention to detail. He views government as a job, where coworkers should cooperate to achieve defined goals, rather than a reality TV show. The arc of this book, like the arc of current politics, is the victory of the reality TV show over the workplace, and the story of Stewart's run against Boris Johnson is hard reading because of it, but there's a portrayal here of a different attitude towards politics that I found deeply rewarding. If you liked Stewart's previous work, or if you want an inside look at parliamentary politics, highly recommended. I will be thinking about this book for a long time. Rating: 9 out of 10

21 October 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Space Trucker Jess

Review: Space Trucker Jess, by Matthew Kressel
Publisher: Fairwood Press
Copyright: July 2025
ISBN: 1-958880-27-2
Format: Kindle
Pages: 472
Space Trucker Jess is a stand-alone far-future space fantasy novel. Jess is a sixteen-year-old mechanic working grey-market jobs on Chadeisson Station with a couple of younger kids. She's there because her charming and utterly unreliable father got caught running a crypto scam and is sitting in detention. This was only the latest in a long series of scams, con jobs, and misadventures she's been dragged through since her mother disappeared without a word. Jess is cynical, world-weary, and infuriated by her own sputtering loyalty to her good-for-nothing dad. What Jess wants most in the universe is to own a CCM 6454 Spark Megahauler, the absolute best cargo ship in the universe according to Jess. She should know; she's worked on nearly every type of ship in existence. With her own ship, she could make a living hauling cargo, repairing her own ship, and going anywhere she wants, free of her father and his endless schemes. (A romantic relationship with her friend Leurie would be a nice bonus.) Then her father is taken off the station on a ship leaving the galactic plane, no one will tell her why, and all the records of the ship appear to have been erased. Jess thinks her father is an asshole, but that doesn't mean she can sit idly by when he disappears. That's how she ends up getting in serious trouble with station security due to some risky in-person sleuthing, followed by an expensive flight off the station with a dodgy guy and a kid in a stolen spaceship. The setup for this book was so great. Kressel felt the need to make up a futuristic slang for Jess and her friends to speak, which rarely works as well as the author expects and does not work here, but apart from that I was hooked. Jess is sarcastic, blustery, and a bit of a con artist herself, but with the idealistic sincerity of someone who knows that her life is been kind of broken and understands the value of friends. She's profoundly cynical in the heartbreakingly defensive way of a sixteen-year-old with a rough life. I have a soft spot in my heart for working-class science fiction (there isn't nearly enough of it), and there are few things I enjoy more than reading about the kind of protagonist who has Opinions about starship models and a dislike of shoddy work. I think this is the only book I've bought solely on the basis of one of the Big Idea blog posts John Scalzi hosts. I really wish this book had stuck with the setup instead of morphing into a weird drug-enabled mystical space fantasy, to which Jess's family is bizarrely central. SPOILERS below because I can't figure out how to rant about what annoyed me without them. Search for the next occurrence of spoilers to skip past them. There are three places where this book lost me. The first was when Jess, after agreeing to help another kid find his father, ends up on a world obsessed with a religious cult involving using hallucinatory drugs to commune with alien gods. Jess immediately flags this as unbelievable bullshit and I was enjoying her well-founded cynicism until Kressel pulls the rug out from under both Jess and the reader by establishing that this new-age claptrap is essentially true. Kressel does try to put a bit of a science fiction gloss on it, but sadly I think that effort was unsuccessful. Sometimes absurdly powerful advanced aliens with near-telepathic powers are part of the fun of a good space opera, but I want the author to make an effort to connect the aliens to plausibility or, failing that, at least avoid sounding indistinguishable from psychic self-help grifters or religious fantasy about spiritual warfare. Stargate SG-1 and Babylon 5 failed on the first part but at least held the second line. Kressel gets depressingly close to Seth territory, although at least Jess is allowed to retain some cynicism about motives. The second, related problem is that Jess ends up being a sort of Chosen One, which I found intensely annoying. This may be a fault of reader expectations more than authorial skill, but one of the things I like to see in working-class science fiction is for the protagonist to not be absurdly central to the future of the galaxy, or to at least force themselves into that position through their own ethics and hard work. This book turns into a sort of quest story with epic fantasy stakes, which I thought was much less interesting than the story the start of the book promised and which made Jess a less interesting character. Finally, this is one of those books where Jess's family troubles and the plot she stumbles across turn into the same plot. Space Trucker Jess is far from alone in having that plot structure, and that's the problem. I'm not universally opposed to this story shape, but Jess felt like the wrong character for it. She starts the story with a lot of self-awareness about how messed up her family dynamics were, and I was rooting for her to find some space to construct her own identity separate from her family. To have her family turn out to be central not only to this story but to the entire galaxy felt like it undermined that human core of the story, although I admit it's a good analogy to the type of drama escalation that dysfunctional families throw at anyone attempting to separate from them. Spoilers end here. I rather enjoyed the first third of this book, despite being a bit annoyed at the constructed slang, and then started rolling my eyes and muttering things about the story going off the rails. Jess is a compelling enough character (and I'm stubborn enough) that I did finish the book, so I can say that I liked the very end. Kressel does finally arrive at the sort of story that I wanted to read all along. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy the path he took to get there. I think much of my problem was that I wanted Jess to be a more defiant character earlier in the novel, and I wanted her family problems to influence her character growth but not be central to her story. Both of these may be matters of opinion and an artifact of coming into the book with the wrong assumptions. If you are interested in a flawed and backsliding effort to untangle one's identity from a dysfunctional family and don't mind some barely-SF space mysticism and chosen one vibes, it's possible this book will click with you. It's not one that I can recommend, though. I still want the book that I hoped I was getting from that Big Idea piece. Rating: 4 out of 10

28 September 2025

Russ Allbery: Review: Echoes of the Imperium

Review: Echoes of the Imperium, by Nicholas & Olivia Atwater
Series: Tales of the Iron Rose #1
Publisher: Starwatch Press
Copyright: 2024
ISBN: 1-998257-04-5
Format: Kindle
Pages: 547
Echoes of the Imperium is a steampunk fantasy adventure novel, the first of a projected series. There is another novella in the series, A Matter of Execution, that takes place chronologically before this novel, but which I am told that you should read afterwards. (I have not yet read it.) If Olivia Atwater's name sounds familiar, it's probably for the romantic fantasy Half a Soul. Nicholas Atwater is her husband. William Blair, a goblin, was a child sailor on the airship HMS Caliban during the final battle that ended the Imperium, and an eyewitness to the destruction of the capital. Like every imperial solider, that loss made him an Oathbreaker; the fae Oath that he swore to defend the Imperium did not care that nothing a twelve-year-old boy could have done would have changed the result of the battle. He failed to kill himself with most of the rest of the crew, and thus was taken captive by the Coalition. Twenty years later, William Blair is the goblin captain of the airship Iron Rose. It's an independent transport ship that takes various somewhat-dodgy contracts and has to avoid or fight through pirates. The crew comes from both sides of the war and has built their own working truce. Blair himself is a somewhat manic but earnest captain who doesn't entirely believe he deserves that role, one who tends more towards wildly risky plans and improvisation than considered and sober decisions. The rest of the crew are the sort of wild mix of larger-than-life personality quirks that populate swashbuckling adventure books but leave me dubious that stuffing that many high-maintenance people into one ship would go as well as it does. I did appreciate the gunnery knitting circle, though. Echoes of the Imperium is told in the first person from Blair's perspective in two timelines. One follows Blair in the immediate aftermath of the war, tracing his path to becoming an airship captain and meeting some of the people who will later be part of his crew. The other is the current timeline, in which Blair gets deeper and deeper into danger by accepting a risky contract with unexpected complications. Neither of these timelines are in any great hurry to arrive at some destination, and that's the largest problem with this book. Echoes of the Imperium is long, sprawling, and unwilling to get anywhere near any sort of a point until the reader is deeply familiar with the horrific aftermath of the war, the mountains guilt and trauma many of the characters carry around, and Blair's impostor syndrome and feelings of inadequacy. For the first half of this book, I was so bored. I almost bailed out; only a few flashes of interesting character interactions and hints of world-building helped me drag myself through all of the tedious setup. What saves this book is that the world-building is a delight. Once the characters finally started engaging with it in earnest, I could not put it down. Present-time Blair is no longer an Oathbreaker because he was forgiven by a fairy; this will become important later. The sites of great battles are haunted by ghostly echoes of the last moments of the lives of those who died (hence the title); this will become very important later. Blair has a policy of asking no questions about people's pasts if they're willing to commit to working with the rest of the crew; this, also, will become important later. All of these tidbits the authors drop into the story and then ignore for hundreds of pages do have a payoff if you're willing to wait for it. As the reader (too) slowly discovers, the Atwaters' world is set in a war of containment by light fae against dark fae. Instead of being inscrutable and separate, the fae use humans and human empires as tools in that war. The fallen Imperium was a bastion of fae defense, and the war that led to the fall of that Imperium was triggered by the price its citizens paid for that defense, one that the fae could not possibly care less about. The creatures may be out of epic fantasy and the technology from the imagined future of Victorian steampunk, but the politics are that of the Cold War and containment strategies. This book has a lot to say about colonialism and empire, but it says those things subtly and from a fantasy slant, in a world with magical Oaths and direct contact with powers that are both far beyond the capabilities of the main characters and woefully deficient in in humanity and empathy. It has a bit of the feel of Greek mythology if the gods believed in an icy realpolitik rather than embodying the excesses of human emotion. The second half of this book was fantastic. The found-family vibe among a crew of high-maintenance misfits that completely failed to cohere for me in the first half of the book, while Blair was wallowing in his feelings and none of the events seemed to matter, came together brilliantly as soon as the crew had a real problem and some meaty world-building and plot to sink their teeth into. There is a delightfully competent teenager, some satisfying competence porn that Blair finally stops undermining, and a sharp political conflict that felt emotionally satisfying, if perhaps not that intellectually profound. In short, it turns into the fun, adventurous romp of larger-than-life characters that the setting promises. Even the somewhat predictable mid-book reveal worked for me, in part because the emotions of the characters around that reveal sold its impact. If you're going to write a book with a bad half and a good half, it's always better to put the good half second. I came away with very positive feelings about Echoes of the Imperium and a tentative willingness to watch for the sequel. (It reaches a fairly satisfying conclusion, but there are a lot of unresolved plot hooks.) I'm a bit hesitant to recommend it, though, because the first half was not very fun. I want to say that about 75% of the first half of the book could have been cut and the book would have been stronger for it. I'm not completely sure I'm right, since the Atwaters were laying the groundwork for a lot of payoff, but I wish that groundwork hadn't been as much of a slog. Tentatively recommended, particularly if you're in the mood for steampunk fae mythology, but know that this book requires some investment. Technically, A Matter of Execution comes first, but I plan to read it as a sequel. Rating: 8 out of 10

3 September 2025

Colin Watson: Free software activity in August 2025

About 95% of my Debian contributions this month were sponsored by Freexian. You can also support my work directly via Liberapay or GitHub Sponsors. Python team forky is open! As a result I m starting to think about the upcoming Python 3.14. At some point we ll doubtless do a full test rebuild, but in advance of that I concluded that one of the most useful things I could do would be to work on our very long list of packages with new upstream versions. Of course there s no real chance of this ever becoming empty since upstream maintainers aren t going to stop work for that long, but there are a lot of packages there where we re quite a long way out of date, and many of those include fixes that we ll need for 3.14, either directly or by fixing interactions with new versions of other packages that in turn will need to be fixed. We can backport changes when we need to, but more often than not the most efficient way to do things is just to keep up to date. So, I upgraded these packages to new upstream versions (deep breath): That s only about 10% of the backlog, but of course others are working on this too. If we can keep this up for a while then it should help. I packaged pytest-run-parallel, pytest-unmagic (still in NEW), and python-forbiddenfruit (still in NEW), all needed as new dependencies of various other packages. setuptools upstream will be removing the setup.py install command on 31 October. While this may not trickle down immediately into Debian, it does mean that in the near future nearly all Python packages will have to use pybuild-plugin-pyproject (note that this does not mean that they necessarily have to use pyproject.toml; this is just a question of how the packaging runs the build system). We talked about this a bit at DebConf, and I said that I d noticed a number of packages where this isn t straightforward and promised to write up some notes. I wrote the Python/PybuildPluginPyproject wiki page for this; I expect to add more bits and pieces to it as I find them. On that note, I converted several packages to pybuild-plugin-pyproject: I fixed several build/test failures: I fixed some other bugs: I reviewed Debian defaults: nftables as banaction and systemd as backend, but it looked as though nothing actually needed to be changed so we closed this with no action. Rust team Upgrading Pydantic was complicated, and required a rust-pyo3 transition (which Jelmer Vernoo started and Peter Michael Green has mostly been driving, thankfully), packaging rust-malloc-size-of (including an upstream portability fix), and upgrading several packages to new upstream versions: bugs.debian.org I fixed bugs.debian.org: misspelled checkbox id uselessmesages , as well as a bug that caused incoming emails with certain header contents to go missing. OpenSSH I fixed openssh-server: refuses further connections after having handled PerSourceMaxStartups connections with a cherry-pick from upstream. Other bits and pieces I upgraded libfido2 to a new upstream version. I fixed mimalloc: FTBFS on armhf: cc1: error: -mfloat-abi=hard : selected architecture lacks an FPU, which was blocking changes to pendulum in the Python team. I also spent some time helping to investigate libmimalloc3: Illegal instruction Running mtxrun generate, though that bug is still open. I fixed various autopkgtest bugs in gssproxy, prompted by #1007 in Debusine. Since my old team is decommissioning Bazaar/Breezy code hosting in Launchpad (the end of an era, which I have distinctly mixed feelings about), I converted Storm to git.

25 August 2025

Gunnar Wolf: The comedy of computation, or, how I learned to stop worrying and love obsolescence

This post is a review for Computing Reviews for The comedy of computation, or, how I learned to stop worrying and love obsolescence , a book published in Stanford University Press
The Comedy of Computation is not an easy book to review. It is a much enjoyable book that analyzes several examples of how being computational has been approached across literary genres in the last century how authors of stories, novels, theatrical plays and movies, focusing on comedic genres, have understood the role of the computer in defining human relations, reactions and even self-image. Mangrum structures his work in six thematic chapters, where he presents different angles on human society: How have racial stereotypes advanced in human imagination and perception about a future where we interact with mechanical or computational partners (from mechanical tools performing jobs that were identified with racial profiles to intelligent robots that threaten to control society); the genericity of computers and people can be seen as generic, interchangeable characters, often fueled by the tendency people exhibit to confer anthropomorphic qualities to inanimate objects; people s desire to be seen as truly authentic , regardless of what it ultimately means; romantic involvement and romance-led stories (with the computer seen as a facilitator for human-to-human romances, distractor away from them, or being itself a part of the couple); and the absurdity in antropomorphization, in comparing fundamentally different aspects such as intelligence and speed at solving mathematical operations, as well as the absurdity presented blatantly as such by several techno-utopian visions. But presenting this as a linear set of concepts that are presented does not do justice to the book. Throughout the sections of each chapter, a different work serves as the axis Novels and stories, Hollywood movies, Broadway plays, some covers for the Time magazine, a couple of presenting the would-be future, even a romantic comedy entirely written by bots . And for each of them, Benjamin Mangrum presents a very thorough analysis, drawing relations and comparing with contemporary works, but also with Shakespeare, classical Greek myths, and a very long etc tera. This book is hard to review because of the depth of work the author did: Reading it repeatedly made me look for other works, or at least longer references for them. Still, despite being a work with such erudition, Mangrum s text is easy and pleasant to read, without feeling heavy or written in an overly academic style. I very much enjoyed reading this book. It is certainly not a technical book about computers and society in any way; it is an exploration of human creativity and our understanding of the aspects the author has found as central to understanding the impact of computing on humankind. However, there is one point I must mention before closing: I believe the editorial decision to present the work as a running text, with all the material conceptualized as footnotes presented as a separate, over 50 page long final chapter, detracts from the final result. Personally, I enjoy reading the footnotes because they reveal the author s thought processes, even if they stray from the central line of thought. Even more, given my review copy was a PDF, I could not even keep said chapter open with one finger, bouncing back and forth. For all purposes, I missed out on the notes; now that I finished reading and stumbled upon that chapter, I know I missed an important part of the enjoyment.

20 June 2025

Matthew Garrett: My a11y journey

23 years ago I was in a bad place. I'd quit my first attempt at a PhD for various reasons that were, with hindsight, bad, and I was suddenly entirely aimless. I lucked into picking up a sysadmin role back at TCM where I'd spent a summer a year before, but that's not really what I wanted in my life. And then Hanna mentioned that her PhD supervisor was looking for someone familiar with Linux to work on making Dasher, one of the group's research projects, more usable on Linux. I jumped.

The timing was fortuitous. Sun were pumping money and developer effort into accessibility support, and the Inference Group had just received a grant from the Gatsy Foundation that involved working with the ACE Centre to provide additional accessibility support. And I was suddenly hacking on code that was largely ignored by most developers, supporting use cases that were irrelevant to most developers. Being in a relatively green field space sounds refreshing, until you realise that you're catering to actual humans who are potentially going to rely on your software to be able to communicate. That's somewhat focusing.

This was, uh, something of an on the job learning experience. I had to catch up with a lot of new technologies very quickly, but that wasn't the hard bit - what was difficult was realising I had to cater to people who were dealing with use cases that I had no experience of whatsoever. Dasher was extended to allow text entry into applications without needing to cut and paste. We added support for introspection of the current applications UI so menus could be exposed via the Dasher interface, allowing people to fly through menu hierarchies and pop open file dialogs. Text-to-speech was incorporated so people could rapidly enter sentences and have them spoke out loud.

But what sticks with me isn't the tech, or even the opportunities it gave me to meet other people working on the Linux desktop and forge friendships that still exist. It was the cases where I had the opportunity to work with people who could use Dasher as a tool to increase their ability to communicate with the outside world, whose lives were transformed for the better because of what we'd produced. Watching someone use your code and realising that you could write a three line patch that had a significant impact on the speed they could talk to other people is an incomparable experience. It's been decades and in many ways that was the most impact I've ever had as a developer.

I left after a year to work on fruitflies and get my PhD, and my career since then hasn't involved a lot of accessibility work. But it's stuck with me - every improvement in that space is something that has a direct impact on the quality of life of more people than you expect, but is also something that goes almost unrecognised. The people working on accessibility are heroes. They're making all the technology everyone else produces available to people who would otherwise be blocked from it. They deserve recognition, and they deserve a lot more support than they have.

But when we deal with technology, we deal with transitions. A lot of the Linux accessibility support depended on X11 behaviour that is now widely regarded as a set of misfeatures. It's not actually good to be able to inject arbitrary input into an arbitrary window, and it's not good to be able to arbitrarily scrape out its contents. X11 never had a model to permit this for accessibility tooling while blocking it for other code. Wayland does, but suffers from the surrounding infrastructure not being well developed yet. We're seeing that happen now, though - Gnome has been performing a great deal of work in this respect, and KDE is picking that up as well. There isn't a full correspondence between X11-based Linux accessibility support and Wayland, but for many users the Wayland accessibility infrastructure is already better than with X11.

That's going to continue improving, and it'll improve faster with broader support. We've somehow ended up with the bizarre politicisation of Wayland as being some sort of woke thing while X11 represents the Roman Empire or some such bullshit, but the reality is that there is no story for improving accessibility support under X11 and sticking to X11 is going to end up reducing the accessibility of a platform.

When you read anything about Linux accessibility, ask yourself whether you're reading something written by either a user of the accessibility features, or a developer of them. If they're neither, ask yourself why they actually care and what they're doing to make the future better.

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23 May 2025

Gunnar Wolf: No further discussion -- I am staying with a Thinkpad keyboard.

I have been a very happy user of my two SK-8845 keyboards (one at my office, one at home) since I bought them, in 2018 and 2021 respectively. What are they, mind you? SK-8845 keyboard) The beautiful keyboard every Thinkpad owner knows and loves. And although I no longer use my X230 laptop that was my workhorse for several years, my fingers are spoiled. So, both shift keys of my home keyboard have been getting flaky, and I am basically sure it s a failure in the controller, as it does not feel to be physical. It s time to revisit that seven year old post where I found the SK-8845. This time, I decided to try my luck with something different. As a Emacs user, everybody knows we ought to be happy with more and more keys. In fact, I suppose many international people are now familiar with El Eternauta, true? we Emacs users would be the natural ambassadors to deal with the hand species: Emacs users from outer space! So it kind-of sort-of made sense, when I saw a Toshiba-IBM keyboard being sold for quite cheap (MX$400, just over US$20) to try my luck with it: A truly POS keyboard This is quite an odd piece of hardware, built in 2013 according to its label. At first I was unsure whether to buy it because of the weird interface it had, but the vendor replied they would ship a (very long!) USB cable with it, so A weird port inside the keyboard And a matching weird connector As expected, connecting it to Linux led to a swift, errorless recognition: Nothing too odd here Within minutes of receiving the hardware, I had it hooked up and started looking at the events it generated However the romance soon started to wane. Some of the reasons: Anyway I m returning it I found an SK-8845 for sale in China for just MX$1814 (~US$90), and jumped for it They are getting scarce! Nowadays it s getting more common (and cheaper) to find the newer style Thinkpad keyboards, but without a trackpad I don t think I should stockpile on keyboards, but no, I m not doing that Anyway, so I m sticking to a Thinkpad keyboard, third in a row.

Next.