TITLE: Red Rising (Red Rising Trilogy, Book 01)
AUTHOR: Pierce Brown
GENRE: Science Fiction
PUBLISHED: 01/28/2014
RATING: ★★★
PURCHASE LINKS: Amazon
MOBILISM LINK: Mobilism
Review: I have a confession to make, my darlings; I delay reading sequels. Not because I don't want to read them – I’m usually desperate to! – but because sequels, especially concluding instalments, make me so ridiculously nervous. I have on my Kindle books published two years ago, sequels to books that I really, really loved, which I can't quite bring myself to start reading.
I know. Bloody bizarre, isn't it? I can't explain it even to myself.
Why is this relevant? Well, because Brown’s Golden Son has been out since January, and I haven't read it yet. Instead, I decided to reread Red Rising first, so that I could dive into Golden remembering who everyone is and what exactly happened in Red.
Red Rising is probably a book even those of you who don't read science fiction have heard of. It made an enormous splash last year and featured prominently on most of the ‘Best of 2014’ lists, both the speculative fiction lists and the general ones. And there’s excellent reasons for that.
Brown’s debut is set on a Mars at least 700 years in the future – probably closer to 1000-1200 years in the future – in a universe governed by a strict caste system. The human race is divided into Colours, the castes of which are not defined arbitrarily but biologically. The Golds at the top are faster, stronger, smarter, and more beautiful than the other castes, and they rule ruthlessly, unquestioningly. The book is mostly concerned with these Golds, and with the Reds, the lowest caste of menials.
The first thing you should know about me is I am my father’s son. And when they came for him, I did as he asked. I did not cry. Not when the Society televised the arrest. Not when the Golds tried him. Not when the Grays hanged him. Mother hit me for that. My brother Kieran was supposed to be the stoic one. He was the elder, I the younger. I was supposed to cry.
Darrow, our main character, is one of these Reds. In fact, though he doesn't know the term, he’s a lowRed – meaning he’s one of thousands (millions?) of Reds who live beneath the surface of Mars and believe that Mars is still an uninhabitable wasteland; that the efforts of the Red miners go to terraforming the planet that has been habitable for centuries. At the beginning of the book, Darrow is a Helldiver, a particularly dangerous job with a short life expectancy. Darrow, though, is incredibly good at it and something of a celebrity among his clan. The story really gets going when he realises that the competition of the mining clans – to see who mines more in each period – is rigged, with one clan always set to win. It triggers a chain of events that will quickly see him sent to the surface to accomplish the impossible – infiltrate the Gold caste and bring them down from the inside.
Red Rising is interesting for numerous reasons, but one of the ones I found most fascinating is the fact that, all things considered, I’m not sure you could call the system Darrow lives in a dystopia. There is no war in this world, and there doesn’t seem to be much or any illness or starvation either. If there is a huge disparity between the wealthy elite and the menials, well – that’s no different to how our world works. Unless Brown means his society to be a critique of ours, which is possible, and not something I’ve considered before. Brown’s is a totalitarian society, with plenty of intrinsic policies that turned my stomach, but it functions and most of those who live in it are happy or at least content. Very few are actively suffering, so does that make it a dystopia, or not?
But there’s a few things to talk about, so let’s get down to that.
You can take it as read that I enjoyed Red Rising. It deserves the acclaim it’s received, and I recommend it. In many ways it’s quite thought-provoking, and I think it has a lot to say wrapped up in a very addictive storyline. But I have some reservations, some ways in which Brown let me down, that I think seriously detract from the world he was trying to build.
The big thing is that the culture of the Colours isn’t actually significantly different to ours. This is approximately 1000 years in our future, but various characters still use ‘like a girl’ and ‘buttboy’ as insults. So 1000 years in the future, we’re apparently still dealing with misogyny and homophobia in exactly the same way that we’re dealing with it today. Not only does that seem incredibly stupid to me – hate to break it to you, but human prejudices don’t remain unchanged for a thousand years – but it was also really depressing to read. Most of the spec fic books I pick up don’t have LGBT characters. That’s depressing enough. But they also don’t repeatedly use variations of ‘gay’ as insults, which feels even worse. Over and over Red Rising has all the characters – including Darrow, our supposed hero – insult their enemies as ‘buttboys’ or ‘peckerlickers’ or what-the-hell-ever. They might be childish insults, but it hits just as hard as reading ‘faggot’ on the page again and again. There’s no reason for it – no real reason, 1000 years in the future, in a society that holds up the ancient Spartans as the ideal. Again, Brown, hate to break it to you, but most historians accept the fact that the Spartans, for all they despised Athens, had institutionalised homosexuality too, albeit not to the extent of some of the other Greek states. (Here’s a fun bit of trivia for you: Spartan wives were expected to dress as men on their wedding nights, supposedly to help their husbands make the transition from sleeping with men to sleeping with women!)
I really can’t find an angle from which this casual homophobia is acceptable. As a queer person, it’s actively hurtful to read, especially since it serves no purpose within the story. There’s no reason for Darrow’s world to be homophobic, and every reason for it not to be. And since I’ve read hundreds of books without LGBT characters where variations of ‘faggot’ don’t come out of the mouth of the hero, I don’t know why Brown included it. It adds nothing but a streak of vicious prejudice to something that most people use to escape that crap in our own world. I read fiction to be entertained, not to find myself and people like me being attacked.
And no, I don’t think that’s an overreaction. I don’t think people would have accepted it if Darrow (or anyone else) had been using the n-word, so why the hell should I have to accept what’s basically the same thing, aimed at a different minority?
Other reviewers have commented upon the amount of rape (as opposed to the rest of the violence) within Red Rising. I think it needs to be commented upon. There’s a right way and a wrong way to write any trauma, especially a trauma a significant number of your readers will have experienced for themselves. The right way is to respect it, to respect the damage or other effects it can wreak while respecting the people who have gone through it. The wrong way is to trivialise it, to use it as a simplistic plot device, and that’s exactly what Brown does. The women (and there are many) raped in Red Rising aren’t even given names; they only exist at all to show how evil certain other characters are, how necessary it is for Darrow to stop those villains.
To be fair, you could make that argument about all the violence within the book: the worst villains in Red tend to be the ones who are most brutal and vicious. But I think the existence of the Pinks, the prostitute caste, makes the entire issue of sex one that is given a deeply creepy slant in this book. Every other caste is honoured for what they do – we even hear Golds compliment the Reds, the lowest of the low, on at least two occasions – but Pinks are consistently described in demeaning, insulting ways; to be called a Pink is an insult. Why? If you have an entire caste of people who are bred for beauty and pleasure, why aren’t they honoured and adored? Why don’t we have something more reminiscent of Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel sequence, where courtesans are respected and influential? Doesn’t that seem a more likely development in a universe where every other caste is valued? Doesn’t it seem more believable that after a thousand freaking years, we would have overcome the stigmas around sex? Doesn’t it seem like lazy world-building, and indicative of a creepy mentality, that Brown casually dusts his villains with rape while replicating our modern world’s prejudices towards sex and sex-workers without the slightest modification?
You know, the more I analyse this, the less shiny Red Rising becomes in my memory. Sure, it’s entertaining. Yes, I’ll probably read Golden Son, after all this – mostly because I’m hoping for some healthier world-building. But it’s deeply, disgustingly problematic, more so because it’s so popular and very few people seem to be calling it on its bullshit. Giving a few made-up items names with capital letters does not make your world original; calling your castes after colours doesn’t make your system unique. Having your hero slowly realise that he might be as bad as those he’s trying to fight against is awesome; making him a homophobe is not. And don’t even get me started on Eo’s pathetically short arc. She should have been the main character, not Darrow, but instead we get another (creepy!) stuffed in the fridge trope where a woman is killed solely to give the male main character emotastic manpain...
“We couldn’t save her, Darrow.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“We just couldn’t.”
“Why not?” I repeat. I glare up at him, glare at his followers and hiss the words one by one. “You saved me. You could have saved her. She is the one you would have wanted. The bloodydamn martyr. She cared about all this…”
“Martyrs are a dime a dozen.”
I mean, that doesn’t even make an attempt at sense. The girl whose face was shown throughout the universe, beautiful (that always helps when you’re making a statement) as she sang a forbidden song that touched millions – the one who believes, fiercely, that there must be a revolution, but who also had the heart to probably not become as bad as what she was fighting against in the process – and instead you want the guy who spent his life perfectly accepting of the way things are? The one who’ll fight for revenge instead of for a better future?
Why am I supposed to like this book again? I suppose its sole positive characteristic is the fact that its female characters, on the whole, are just as ruthless and vicious as its male ones, so at least we get equality on that front. That I do appreciate, believe it or not; it’s just as stupid to claim that women are never evil, fucked-up, or violent as it is to claim they are weak little darlings who must always be protected. Neither is true and both are damaging stereotypes.
All in all… Three stars because I finished it, because I think Brown’s writing style is entertaining and addictive. But only three stars, because so much of it is disgusting crap.