Exordia

The opening act of Exordia is extraordinary. It's witty, engaging, and sets up a super intriguing first contact alien scenario. What follows that cracking start is a dense, technobabble bonanza that prioritizes impenetrable science abstractions over story and character.

It's frustrating because I'm fairly certain Seth Dickinson is brilliant. But he's so brilliant that most of what he was writing about went well over my head. Or maybe I've just outed myself as an unlearned, poorly-read student of science fiction literature – but that's for me to grapple with.

I wish I had put this down and chalked it up as one of the many books that are “just not for me,” but the promise of that opening section left me hopeful that the story would eventually sink its teeth back into me. I lost the plot and never got it back as Dickinson dove deeper and deeper down a cosmological rabbit hole that I just could not follow (literally, figuratively, metaphysically).

There will be a bloc of readers who love Exordia, and I wish I could count myself among their numbers. But consider me among the lesser mortals who could not connect with the frequency at which Dickinson is operating here.

My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.

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