It is difficult for me to write this review without simply gushing READ THIS NOW. (But seriously: read this now) ... every bit as good as her previous work and very different in theme, tone, and approach ... Part coming-of-age story, part murder mystery, part political thriller, and part exploration of questions of memory, meaning, and cultural identity as represented by physical relics of the past, Provenance is an extraordinarily good book. Tightly paced and brilliantly characterised—as one might expect from Leckie—with engaging prose and a deeply interesting set of complicated intersecting cultures, it is a book that I loved, and one that I expect to read again.
Something about Ann Leckie’s space operas remind me of cozy mysteries. Not because I don’t consider her books serious science fiction—the Imperial Radch trilogy contains a more complete considerations of the moral obligations we owe artificial lifeforms (not to mention our fellow humans) than anything I’ve read in the last decade. But the way she deploys the tropes of space opera—ship-to-ship conflicts, alien races, intelligent machines—are quite different ... There are big ideas about politics, gender, and prisoners’ rights. There are surprising plot twists and tense action sequences. There is a colorful cast of hilarious supporting characters and, oh, a murder ... The book transitions from murder mystery, to political thriller, to action adventure without faltering, and without ever taking us away from Ingray’s point of view. There’s a great deal of fascinating worldbuilding surrounding our hapless protagonist and an interesting consideration of gender roles ... You might call it cozy space opera. but if you think that’s reductive, I have another suggestion: these are books with the trappings of widescreen sci-fi, and the attention to character, to the small moments, to the inner lives of those living through outsized events you typically find elsewhere in the bookstore. So call it literary space opera. Call it what you want. Just read it.
From the powerful figures who held the galaxy’s fate in their hands in the Radch trilogy, Provenance shifts our attention to local politicians who squabble over status, family heirlooms, and selfishly aspirational paths to power. This shift in focus may be disorientating for fans of Leckie’s work, but it means new readers can jump in and enjoy Provenance on its own merits without detailed knowledge of the previous books ... In Provenance, too, Leckie diverts us toward quieter, more introspective fare, expanding the size and complexity of her universe while retaining the character-driven focus that has become her trademark. Indeed, much of the novel’s success or failure rests on how the reader warms to its protagonist, Ingray Aughskold ... Although the novel itself provides an entertaining, thoughtful, and clever entry that both Leckie’s new and returning readers can delve into and enjoy, some of its greatest strengths lie in the creative and original potential it creates for more stories to come. In short, the stand-alone Provenance is like returning to a favorite restaurant and enjoying a tantalizing appetizer that leaves readers hungry for a main course.
...lacks the Ancillary punch but lays out a gently convincing case for the cozy space mystery ... Provenance lacks some of the depth that made that series so engrossing...Still, Provenance provides a careful look at how no one's immune from politics, even if they think themselves outside the fray ... This is a story about the necessity of exploring the edges of the known, which makes Provenance a fitting addition to the Ancillary world, and suggests an expanded universe with many such stories yet to be told.
...at the end of the day, this is a saga of children struggling to meet the strict obligations of family and adulthood, which makes it a microcosmic mirror of what the Presger have demanded of humanity. It does get convoluted, however. Provenance feels clumsier than the Radch novels in many ways, possibly because there are fewer galaxy- or character-transforming moments to pull the reader along. As an example, Hwaean society’s gender pronouns (his, hers, eirs and its) don’t flow as well as the 'universal her' of the earlier stories, though one gets used to them. Ingray and her companions aren’t nearly so compelling as Breq and company, either. Still, the novel stands well as a sort of thematic coda to the Radch trilogy, and should please those who like tea with their space opera.
Provenance is a thoroughly decent science fiction novel that is readable, absorbing and ever so slightly so whatish ... Provenance is intricately, if linearly and rather shallowly, plotted. It leans heavily on the likeability of its protagonist to carry the reader through the ins and outs of its arcane social protocols, treaty terms and legal shenanigans. Ingray is a likeable heroine, but not a terribly remarkable one ... the mix of the estranging and the cosy is part of Leckie’s appeal, and her many fans will surely enjoy the way this new novel balances them. But we are entitled to wonder whether a thousand-year-old galactic empire saturated with futuristic technology would be quite so recognisable.
In this gripping new tale from the Imperial Radch worlds, Leckie’s Provenance perfectly combines the mercurial foundations of planetary politics with the personal journey of a woman navigating familial conflict as she creates a distinct provenance that gives her sole ownership of her path forward.
Leckie again uses large-scale worldbuilding to tell a deeply personal story—in this case, to explore what binds children to their families. As always, she impels the reader to consider the power language, and specifically names, has to shape perception and reality ... More intriguing cultures to explore, more characters to care about, more Leckie to love.
Though full of the charm and wit characterizing Leckie’s other works, including delightful appearances by a Radch ambassador and tantalizing hints about the upcoming conclave, this novel nevertheless doesn’t quite have the depth and richness Leckie fans might expect. It’s primarily an optimistic coming-of-age story, and it stumbles on some false promises along the way.