The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin, Orbit, August 4th, 2015
The Fifth Season is the first book in N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth Trilogy which scored a hat trick of Hugo Award wins in 2016, 17 & 18. Before getting into the review, I should probably start by giving a brief background on how I became familiar with the author. This will in part be to make plain my bias but also just because it is worth going over as these controversies; as I believe they contributed to her three Hugo wins more than the quality of her writing.
In June of 2013, she gave a speech at the Continuum Convention in Melbourne, Australia. Although not named directly, she referenced Vox Day in her speech and described him as:
a self-described misogynist, racist, anti-Semite, and a few other flavors of ***hole
Vox Day responded stating that he does not describe himself this way though his detractors have. He then described Jemisin as:
an educated, but ignorant half-savage, with little more understanding of what it took to build a new literature by “a bunch of beardy old middle-class middle-American guys” than an illiterate Igbotu tribesman has of how to build a jet engine
The context for Jemisin’s attack was that Day had recently ran for president of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) and lost to author, Steven Gould. He unsurprisingly lost by a significant margin but even receiving 10% of the vote was too much for Jemisin. Now whether or not you think Vox’s reply was particularly charitable, he was not the first to fling the dung and there had been a lot more flung at him before this. The above quote provoked proverbial (and probably no few literal), shrieks from the SFWA “community” and led to his expulsion from the organisation. It has often been quoted (and misquoted) since and usually without the context. I found Vox’s response highly amusing and agree with him completely.
Something I’d forgotten is that Jemisin opened her speech with a spiel about feeling unsafe in Australia and other countries though to my knowledge, was never lynched, mugged or even harassed on her visit. Had anything like this happened, we’d certainly have heard about it. She stated after spending some time in the country that:
This is not a safe country for people of color. It’s better than it was, certainly, but when the first news story I saw on turning on my first Australian TV channel was about your One Nation party’s Pauline Hanson… well. Still got a ways to go.
This was given to an audience in Melbourne who were likely mostly left-wing, so she wasn’t called out on any of the inaccurate things she said in just the first few paragraphs. In reality, those residing in Australia (regardless of their ethnicity), generally have a lot more to fear from people that look like her than any other group; as is certainly true in the United States. The only evidence of Australia being unsafe she had was seeing a politician who advocates immigration restriction on television. If you can stomach reading it, you’ll also observe how devoid it is of the topic of speculative fiction which is the stated purpose of the convention.
The next time her name came up for me was during the Rabid Puppies Campaigns in 2015 and 2016. The Fifth Season was published in 2015 and she was nominated and won the Hugo for Best Novel in 2016. This win, as well as her two subsequent wins were used as evidence that the Rabid Puppies had failed when they actually demonstrated exactly what Vox Day had been saying about the politicisation of the awards going back years.
So this should be enough context before I proceed but I will add that I my initial expectations for this novel would be that it would be simply bad and that Jemisin was promoted not because of her ability, but because she is a black female. After reading it, I would say that these are certainly reasons but not the most important.
Something Vox Day actually has described himself as is a “cruelty artist” but after reading The Fifth Season, I would say that nothing Vox has said about N.K. Jemisin is anywhere near as cruel as the praise she has received. The public library copy I read (pictured above), describes it as “intricate and extraordinary” and a “gift to the whole of our culture”. This is far from all the praise the author had her writing has received and the first two pages list more for both the author and her works from a number of prominent authors, celebrities and publications. This is akin but worse than the well-meaning though misguided cruelty of a mother telling her son that she thinks he’s handsome to cheer him when the girls he pursues do not. Jemisin is worthy of very little of the frequently hyperbolic praise she has received. It evident she is aware of this on some level given this work and many of her public utterances are laced with resentment.
For example, this is her dedication:
For all those who have to fight for the respect that everyone else is given without question
All people have to earn (if not fight for), respect at some level and the irony is she is someone who was given it without question for the apparently rare talent of being able to write while black and female. This resentment even enters into the novel with this example from the end of Chapter 4 being particularly illustrative:
“Tell them they can be great someday, like us. Tell them they belong among us, no matter how we treat them. Tell them they must earn the respect which everyone else receives by default. Tell them there is a standard for acceptance; that standard is simply perfection. Kill those who scoff at these contradictions, and tell the rest that the dead deserved annihilation for their weakness and doubt. Then they’ll break themselves trying for what they’ll never achieve.”
—Ersset, twenty-third emperor of the Sanzed Equatorial Affiliation
I am unable to work out whether or not all the awards and praise have translated into significant sales. The amount of reviews for this book on Amazon suggests it sold well and though there was a drop off with the two sequels, there were still thousands of (mostly positive) ratings for the sequels. I had a library hold on one of the eleven copies of The Fifth Season at my public library for over two months — which does indicate it is popular. Though the book I received didn’t look to have been well-read unlike the the copy of A Game of Thrones I read earlier this year. So it is possible lots of people have bought or borrowed but not read it. I don’t know.
Before getting to the contents of the book, I want to digress a little on the novelty of two literary devices. The Fifth Season makes use of second-person narration in sections of the book and the narrative is also non-linear and jumps between multiple characters. While thinking about Jemisin’s use of them, I was reminded of the meme with the mangled fork that is unique but also functionally useless.
The second-person voice is little used in fiction but this does not mean using it will have some profound impact on the quality of a narrative. This aspect is often singled in praising the novel which leads me to suspect it was one of the few things shill reviewers could be positive about. Second-person is used in ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ novels where the reader is also invited to make choices and so become the character. It was also often used in early text adventure computer games when computer memory was limited and expensive. In both of these examples there was a specific purpose to using second-person.
Outside of these examples. the only novel I have read where second-person was used well was in If on a winter’s night a traveler by Italo Calvino where the author jumps between multiple genres and characters with the intention that the reader “become” each one. It was a celebration of the power of the novel in general and being a short work, that jumped frequently between characters and genres, the use of second-person worked well with the novel’s intention. So it was not only cleverly done but the use of second-person also worked with the novel’s purpose.
There is less I have to say about non-linear narratives in fiction but I would say the main danger is confusing the reader. A writer who uses it needs to be very careful about keeping details together so that the narrative remains engaging. Off the top of my head, I can think of few examples and only the film Pulp Fiction comes immediately to mind. This film very cleverly brings the narrative threads together in a way that is not only understandable but can be appreciated on subsequent viewings.
N.K. Jemisin adopts both of these into who work and they don’t work well at all. Following the confusing Prologue, the first chapter begins with:
You are she. She is you. You are Essun. Remember? The woman whose son is dead.
I found the second-person immediately irritating as well as pointless. As stated, Essun has found her son dead and her husband and daughter missing. In Chapter 2, a young girl named Damaya is introduced who is taken away from her home. Then in Chapter 4, Syenite, (whose name sounds like a geological curiosity), is introduced. Only the chapters focusing on Essun are written in second-person. Reading the novel in isolation, it is never really clear why Essun’s narrative needs to be in second-person. Late in the novel it is revealed that all three characters are the same person which makes the differing narration pointless.
I did read a few comments and reviews at places like Reddit and one commenter claimed that the use of second-person is important after reading the later books. So I looked into this and it seems that it is revealed the minor character Hoa has been explaining Essun’s life to her at the end of the third novel. This still doesn’t explain why it was only done for the times she is named “Essun” and not “Damaya” and “Synenite”. This is far more confusing than clever; especially when it is only the cheap trick of using different names that prevents the reader from working out these characters are actually one. I worked it out a few chapters before it was made explicit and was much more irritated than impressed with the full revelation.
In homage to Jemisin, I will be keeping my review non-linear and so next I will discuss the genre which is described as “Science Fantasy”. The Fifth Season is set in a world called “The Stillness” which is a world with one giant super continent and very few islands; similar to the concept of Pangaea. Whether this is set in the distant past or future of our own world, I am unsure but it doesn’t matter. This world is rife with geological disasters which culminate in a number of recorded “fifth seasons” that cause mass destruction. This world is protected by Orogenes who are people born with the ability to feel and exercise control over the movements on the earth. They can calm these movements and also exacerbate them; even using them offensively should they so desire. Though being important to the stability of the world, they are hated or feared by the majority. It is relevant to add here that the protagonist uses this power to kill large numbers of innocent people on two occasions which makes the fear and hatred understandable based on what is presented within the pages alone. The derogatory term for them is “rogga”, which has an intentional similarity with another “gg” word beginning with “n”. Jemisin makes this explicit in the novel:
Syenite flinches, just a little, at his rogga. The Fulcrum gives merits to anyone who says it, so she doesn’t hear it much—just the odd muttered epithet from people riding past them, or grits trying to sound tough when the instructors aren’t around. It’s such an ugly word, harsh and guttural; the sound of it is like a slap to the ear. But Alabaster uses it the way other people use orogene.
I can’t recall if every “rogga” was black but many were described that way, so they are best understood as “magic black people” who are unappreciated and hated by everyone despite being important for the world’s survival. This is where the fantasy aspect of the novel is most apparent however, while Jemisin makes use of some geological concepts and language, nothing about how the power of “orogeny” works or how or why the world is so unstable is explained in the novel. It certainly doesn’t come close to hard Science Fiction and so the “Science” really doesn’t belong in any description of this work of fiction.
Jemisin has included a short appendix of terms or words unique to the world but these are mostly pointless when not confusing. One is “comm” which I initially assumed to be an abbreviation for “communication” or “communication device”. It is actually short for “community” which is not how the abbreviation is normally understood. There is also the word “sesuna” for “awareness of the earth’s movements” which is used in verb form as “sess” or “sessed” in the past tense. These sound very close to “sense” or “sensed” and I initially thought the novel was full of the same typo before flicking to the appendix in irritation. There is no good reason why she shouldn’t have just used “sense”. Orogene and orogeny make more sense as they are derived from a geological process. There are a few others that are less frequently used but one that isn’t in the appendix is “rust” or “rusting”. This is often used in place of the “F” word but as the prose makes frequent enough use of that as well as plenty of other vulgarity, it was completely redundant to include this alternative.
As mentioned, the novel begins with a woman who has lost her child and the mystery behind what has happened. This is a decent way to hook most readers whether or not they are mothers as most people can empathise with a parent losing their child. For a novel that begins in such a way, it was shocking at just how much anti-natalism is present within the pages. This is mostly shown through the Syenite who is more often referred to as Syen. She is travelling with a male oregene named Alabaster and part of her duty is to be impregnated by him or “catch pregnant” as she describes it at one point; as if pregnancy were akin to a disease. The novel is also full of shocking smut but always described in a mechanical, empty and loveless way. I was going to quote one of the least offensive examples but even that is really too much for what I usually put on this blog. Some of the worst examples were more than a little disturbing.
Jemisin has stated that Essun is her favourite character and since Syen is Essun, we can gather that she approves of the thoughts like this that she puts in her protagonists mouth:
He is the weak one here, despite his ten rings [rings represent Orogene rank]. She’s the one who has to carry a child she doesn’t want, which might kill her and even if it doesn’t will change her body forever, if not her life—but here and now, at least she is the one with all the power. It makes this… well, not right. But better, somehow, that she’s the one in control.
Here is a mixture of resentment, hatred and delusion that I find difficult to relate to but have to remind myself exists in the poisoned minds of many people. She is referring to the aforementioned Alabaster who is revealed later in the novel to be a sodomite which explains why he acts like a woman. After they have their unwanted child, she is rebuked by this sodomite for taking little interest in him:
“Corundum is your son, Syenite. Do you feel nothing for him, that you constantly chafe to be away?”
“I make sure he’s taken care of.” And she does. Corundum is always clean and well fed. She never wanted a child, but now that she’s had it—him—and held him, and nursed him, and all that . . . she does feel a sense of accomplishment, maybe, and rueful acknowledgement, because she and Alabaster have managed to make one beautiful child between them. She looks into her son’s face sometimes and marvels that he exists, that he seems so whole and right, when both his parents have nothing but bitter brokenness between them. Who’s she kidding? It’s love.
Anyone with an ounce of moral sanity could count many things wrong with what was said above. The acknowledged brokenness is the closest Syen comes to honesty and she is the hero of the novel. Some additional context is Alabaster and Syen are at this time in a three person “relationship” with another man. I know little about Jemisin’s personal life, or if she has any children of her own, but this speaks to a very disturbed mind and it isn’t even the worst example. In one of the last chapters of the novel Syen murders her child to “protect” him. This is not the same dead child from the novel’s beginning either. Which means we’re supposed to believe that someone who had previously murdered her own son was nonetheless devastated by the loss of a son she had some time afterwards.
As to whether the protagonist is a self-insert, I offer this description of Essun alongside a picture of Jemisin:
The woman’s name is Essun. She is forty-two years old. She’s like most women of the midlats: tall when she stands, straight-backed and long-necked, with hips that easily bore two children and breasts that easily fed them, and broad, limber hands. Strong-looking, well-fleshed; such things are valued in the Stillness. Her hair hangs round her face in ropy fused locks, each perhaps as big around as her pinky finger, black fading to brown at the tips. Her skin is unpleasantly ocher-brown by some standards and unpleasantly olive-pale by others.
Jemisin was also around forty-two when the novel was published.
One last thing I want to bring up before bringing this to a close is the character Tonkee. When she is introduced, she is introduced as “she” and assumed to be a woman. A little later we get this rather important bit of information:
Tonkee did indeed bring all that water with her for a bath. She does this in front of you, shamelessly stripping down and squatting by a wooden basin to scrub at her pits and crotch and the rest. You’re a little surprised to notice a penis somewhere amid this process, but, well, not like any comm’s [sic] going to make her a Breeder.
Tonkee and “her” penis have absolutely no impact on the novel except that Essun later identifies him as another character met by Damaya (young Essun), and again with a different name. This was what first clued me on the three protagonists being one. The character being “trans” has no importance at all to the narrative and was presumably just included to appeal directly to a disturbingly significant portion of eligible Hugo voters.
I was hoping I would get some enjoyment out of making fun of this novel but it was mostly a difficult read. I almost gave up reading this about a fifth of the way in but a charitable review I found led me to carry on to the end. This reviewer also takes issue with the terrible parenting as well as pointing out this is not really a Science Fiction novel. I would substantially agree with most of what he writes though I think he dislikes it a lot more than he is saying.
I mentioned earlier that I assumed the main reason Jemisin was pushed was because she was a black female but after reading this, I don’t think this was the main reason. I think it was the hatred, resentment, perversion and moral turpitude found within the pages of this novel that most appeal to the “values” of the SFWA community. I’m not sure I’ve ever read something this dark, empty and hateful in my life.
Consider as a counter example, Charles R. Saunders who I wrote about a few months ago. His works were eligible across multiple categories for decades and he was never even nominated for a Hugo Award though he certainly wasn’t a beardy white guy. The difference, I think, is that his works were not just well-written but had genuinely heroic characters in uplifting stories. There wasn’t even a hint of resentment, hate or filth and that is the only thing I can see that explains the difference.
Despite my hatred for this book, I will try and end on a positive note. I was not being facetious when I suggested that the praise Jemisin has received was cruel. Far from elevating her work, it only encourages her broken outlook on life. In reality, she will never be remembered as a literary great — if she is remembered at all. But she does have enough talent to be a good women’s YA (young adult) author. The narrative of Damaya was the most compelling found within these pages and if she trimmed the filth, resentment and hatred and expanded this narrative within the same world; it would have made for a far more compelling story. Had she set out to do this, she might have found genuine success, and even inspired young women like her. Given the poisonous praise she continues to receive, it is unfortunately doubtful she’ll ever realise this.