The Dervish House

I'm currently reading my downloaded copy of Ian McDonald's The Dervish House, one of the Best Novel Hugo nominees. I'm enjoying it so far, but a while ago I hit something that bugs me. What's under the cut is spoiler-free.

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Hugo: Novels

I just finished reading The Dervish House.

It's a strange year. Two of my favorite writers, Connie Willis and Lois McMaster Bujold, both have novels on the ballot, but, to be frank, neither book is top quality, in my judgment. The 100,000 Kingdoms is entertaining, but not, I think, groundbreaking; it reminds me of Card's Hart's Hope, though it's cleaner and better-developed. None of those three really delights me, the way a Hugo winner ought to.

The other two do. The Dervish House is intricate, kaleidoscopic, familiar and alien at once as good SF should be; none of the individual plot-elements are that groundbreaking, but they are well-mixed and the setting - a near-future Istanbul, still Eastern at heart despite the penetration of Western ideas and technology - is very well done, linguistic nitpicks aside. Feed is nowhere near as complex, but - to my mind - much more intense, with an innovative take on the classic Zombie Apocalypse, and if I'm not entirely pleased with the choice of Bad Guys, still, I found the story gripping.

Feed is my choice for the Best Novel Hugo.