Photo by MissionPhoto.org
St. Louis is home to a not-small number of award-winning creators—and BookFest St. Louis plans to gather them, along with writers from around the nation, in September.
Not least among those authors is space opera writer Ann Leckie, whose Ancillary Justice is the first novel to win the “triple crown” of the Hugo, Nebula, and Arthur C. Clarke science fiction awards. The book’s Imperial Radch trilogy went on to grab additional Locus awards and prestigious nominations. Leckie will speak at a science fiction panel with fellow writers Charlie Jane Anders, Annalee Newitz, and Mark Tiedemann.
The September 23 event precedes the following Tuesday’s release of her fourth novel, Provenance, a standalone that’s set several years after the Imperial Radch trilogy and will feature new characters and star systems.
Courtesy of Left Bank Books
The panel topic isn’t set yet, though Leckie says it may cover “dealing with the other” in science fiction. Either way, they want the panel to be accessible to non–genre buffs. “We really do hope that people will turn up who aren’t necessarily science fiction readers,” says Leckie. “Because I think even if people aren’t going to be convinced to turn to science fiction, there are interesting things to talk about.”
Leckie brings to the panel a deep knowledge of the genre from a readers’ perspective, as well. She’s a longtime fan of science fiction whose “dream job” was “a job where people would pay me to read and just give me books,” she says. Instead, she ended up writing them. Writing hasn’t kept her from her reading habit (although she admits that becoming a world-renowned author has diminished her free time). Leckie hesitates to name specific books she’s tracking, because there are so many—and, she adds, “so many of these folks are my friends. Because science fiction is so small.” She runs into enjoyable authors, agents, and books constantly.
But in our conversation, she got excited about Yoon Ha Lee’s Ninefox Gambit (nominated for a 2017 Hugo), Vivian Shaw’s Strange Practice, Fonda Lee’s City of Jade, and Martha Wells’ All Systems Red, as well as an upcoming release from Arkady Martine.
SLM caught up with her to talk about Provenance, a St. Louis–inspired easter egg hidden in Radch space, the politics of science fiction—and her love of Provel cheese.
And can you describe Provenance for our readers?
The main character is a young woman whose mother is wealthy and very powerful. The young woman and her brother are very much in competition for their mother’s approval. And so Inray, the character, she comes up with a plan to outdo her brother, and everything goes terribly wrong.
It looks like a bit of a heist story, with the prison break plotline.
Kinda, kinda.
Will it be a change of pace?
Absolutely. The Ancillary trilogy was very serious. I wanted to just write something that was kinda fun and enjoyable. If I’m not thinking about something, then I’m bored. Obviously, I was thinking about various things, so it’s serious in that way. But I wanted to write a fun adventure.
Will it deal with the aftermath of the Imperial Radch trilogy?
The aftermath is mentioned. One of the things that happens in the first chapter—the alien Geck are on the way to the conclave, meant to settle the question of whether or not the AIs are significant. But the Geck ambassador arriving sees something that captures her interest and starts meddling in it. So she’s a character in the book.
In that way, it’s connected to the aftermath. But it’s not really dealing with the aftermath; it doesn’t really talk about how any of that plays out. It just mentions it, and it’s tangentially connected.
You’ve talked in the past about being inspired by the huge universes of Andre Norton and C.J. Cherryh. Do you have plans for the Radch universe becoming that big?
Not plans as such. I will almost certainly keep playing in that area. I put in a lot of construction work. It would be silly to start all over again and build a whole new universe when I can just keep building off of what I’ve already built. Which is part of why Provenance is set where it is. I can just run out a thing and say, “OK, it’s connective, now here’s where I’m working.” So I’ll probably continue that. But I also get bored very easily. If I get bored with it, I’ll probably go on to something else.
In Ancillary, the Radch—I’m not sure how to say that.
I say the “rach.” But people ask me, “how do you say such and such?” and I’ll say, “Well, I say it this way—but. Radch space is huge. There are lots of regional dialects and other languages. So however you say it is probably right somewhere.”
OK, so the Radch. Ancillary’s gotten a lot of talk for their unusual use of gender and gendered pronouns. (The Radch don’t have a concept of sex, so the narrator Breq defaults to “she” and guesses gender incorrectly while addressing others.) Will that different cultural approach to gender be present in this book, as well?
There’s definitely a different cultural approach to gender in this book. In this particular culture that the main character comes from recognizes three genders, and so I’ve used he, she, and e/em/eir. It’s not something the book is about, so it’s just there.
A backdrop.
Yeah, many of the characters use e, many of the characters use she, many of the characters use he.
Changing gears: We’re always curious if St. Louis writers have any St. Louis Easter eggs in their books.
There kind of is. In the second book, Ancillary Sword, the characters arrive at Athoek Station, which is famous to the extent that it’s famous for having a domed garden with a big fish pond in it. That dome is totally the Climatron. I mean, it isn’t the Climatron, but I totally modeled that, and I totally was thinking about the Japanese garden when I put those fish in there.
I remember, when I was a little girl is when the Japanese garden opened up. Those fish were like [she holds two fingers a few inches apart] little tiny fish, and you could go feed them. Now they’re like this. [She gestures with arms a foot apart.] It’s because they’re 40 years old. But I remember feeding them when they were tiny.
So those fish are actually the fish in the Japanese garden.
Is there anything around here that you’re a big fan of?
It’s a great city. There’s a lot to be a fan of. I think our zoo is fabulous. I think the botanical gardens are world class, absolutely. I go there quite frequently, which is part of why the Climatron and the Japanese garden fish ended up in the book.
I find myself often, when I’m travelling and talking to other writers from other places, telling them that they absolutely have to try St. Louis–style pizza. I don’t know what’s wrong with the people who are like, “That’s not even pizza!” Well it is; it’s just not the pizza that you’re used to, right? So I’ve been trying to spread the word about St. Louis–style pizza.
Spread the Provel gospel.
Yes. It’s made in Wisconsin only for the St. Louis pizza market. That’s what Wikipedia said. It’s only—there’s no other use for Provel cheese except us. It’s made almost exclusively for the St. Louis pizza market.
Writer’s note: NPR confirms Wikipedia’s story.
Nowhere else?
Nobody else knows what Provel is. Isn’t that kind of amazing? Which is I think part of why when people encounter that, and it doesn’t act like the cheese that they’re used to—not only is it not the cheese they’re used to on pizza; it’s a completely foreign cheese. So it’s like… [She pulls a face.] But they’re just wrong. It’s wonderful.
I thought you’re one of few who have that opinion. But a decent enough number, apparently.
I mean, it’s our pizza. You have to take it on its own terms. You can’t say, “This isn’t New York style, this isn’t Chicago style,” because it’s not. It is what it is.
OK, back to books. So you’re on the panel that’s coming up, and it’s got a couple of phenomenal other writers as well. It sounds like “dealing with the other” is a potential focus?
It’s still being chewed over. Mark Tiedemann suggested “dealing with the other” in science fiction might be an interesting topic. But of course that’s a huge area. So that’s very tentative and very general.
So what do you think of dealing with the other in science fiction?
It’s actually—not surprisingly, I think—a central theme of much science fiction, partially because especially adventure science fiction and space opera has its roots in turn-of-the-20th-century adventure fiction, which is very strongly rooted in European colonialism. So all of that going to distant planets and colonizing them—it has a real-world analogue.
In fact, the first alien invasion narrative that I know of (that would be Wells’ War of the Worlds) is an explicit critique of British colonialism. He even said, “That’s what this book is about. We’ll switch it: What if it was you?” So dealing with the other is baked into adventure fiction.
It’s also a thing that, once you get aliens and stuff, then you can do the thing that science fiction does, which is literalize metaphors. That’s one of its most powerful tools.
I do think that there’s a pitfall: When you say, “Oh, well, the humans are regular people and the other is gay people…” What have you just said there? It’s like, “Really? Did you see what you just said? Really? Uh-huh. I saw that. Did you see that?”
That happens a lot. Star Trek, bless its little cotton socks—I love Star Trek, but it has done that more than once.
Also, it frequently poses the other as an external other, like in the invasion or colonizing narratives, where very often you’re talking about people who are your neighbors, or your family members, or you. That can erase the fact that the societies are not homogenous, made up of default groups, and these others are external. It’s that society is all these different groups and we’re pretending these others are not part of us.
That’s something that science fiction is really set up to explore, and I think more writers are beginning to. But the basic tools and default narratives of science fiction just dig the problem deeper instead of exploring it.
I think this also seems uniquely relevant, with the recent Hugos, 90 percent of the winners are women and people of color—
Isn’t that awesome?
—yeah, but there are people who are like, “It’s a conspiracy!”
Oh, they’re…. My grandmother used to say, “Now think of Thumper’s mother. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Yeah, yeah… That’s part of that same thing, though. Because you’re used to thinking of white straight cis guys as being “who people are,” and obviously are the ones who are producing the quality stuff. That when you upend it—well, it has to be a conspiracy! It’s not that it was a conspiracy keeping the white cis mediocre guys on top all this time, right? No, perish the thought.
It seems like a lot of the winners this year are some of those novelists who are starting to upend the traditional sci-fi narratives.
I thought it was a fabulous ballot. I didn’t realize ‘til the end—I was chatting with a friend of mine, and she was like, “Wait, did any guys win any Hugos?” The movie and the TV show for dramatic presentation short and dramatic presentation long, those were guys. But I think every other category was a woman. And you know what? It’s about frickin’ time. We’ve had plenty of all-guy.
See Ann Leckie at the Science Fiction panel at BookFest St. Louis on September 23, from 5–6 p.m. at The McPherson (4715 McPherson). BookFest events will be held at several locations in the Central West End from September 21–23.
