Author Archives: Ivy Mahncke

Ivy Reviews Olin Library Books #3

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Fiction: A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine, 2019

Ambassador Mahit Dzmare of the independent artificial planet Lsel Station has been summoned to the heart of the Teixcalaan Empire. Her predecessor Yskander is dead, her mission is sabotaged, and the Empire is on the brink of a succession crisis. Armed only with a 15-year-old copy of Yskander’s personality implanted in her brain, as well as a lifelong adoration for Teixcalaanli culture and language, Mahit must convince Teixcalaan’s upper echelons—including the Emperor himself—that Lsel Station is more valuable as an ally than an annexation. By presenting readers with an unflinchingly intimate view of Teixcalaan through an outsider’s eyes, author Arkady Martine explores the pain of falling in love with the culture that’s devouring your own.

 In the Teixcalaanli language, the word for “city”, “empire”, and “civilization” are all the same. The language reflects the Teixcalaanlitzlim’s all-encompassing worldview: to be Teixcalaanli, and to be in the Empire, is to be a part of civilization. As a Stationer, Mahit is casually referred to as a “barbarian”. The novel’s Teixcalaanlitzlim characters aren’t overtly xenophobic, yet their linguistic and cultural assumption of superiority permeates every exchange that Mahit has. Similarly, in our own society, white individuals frequently perpetuate cultural racism through constant, implicit assertions of white supremacy in everyday life. By choosing to demonstrate Teixcalaanli exceptionalism as an ever-present shadow rather than one-off instances of cartoonish discrimination (as many sci-fi stories choose to do), Martine creates a rich and accurate depiction of how empires build national supremacy into their cultures.

To make matters worse for Mahit, her imago-machine—the brain implant that allows her to access Yskander’s out-of-date memories—is damaged. Instead of full communication with Yskander, Mahit only gets occasional flashes of his past emotions. On Lsel Station, every individual receives an imago-machine, which connects them to a storied history of prior Stationers’ personalities, skills, and experiences. By losing her connection to Yskander, Mahit is literally severed from Stationer culture and identity. Already surrounded by Teixcalaanli exceptionalism, Mahit’s loneliness reflects the real-world isolationism of individuals who are forced to conform to the culture of an empire that does not want them.

Martine does not use the word empire lightly—in fact, she holds a PHD in the topic: her dissertation discussed Byzantine agents operating in the Empire’s borderlands. Her expertise is what sets this novel apart from other space operas, which often utilize an off-the-shelf galactic federation, evil empire, or corporation to menacingly loom over the plot without actually introducing any nuance to the story. Martine does not absolve her empire of its sins; instead, she is honest about its contradictions. Teixcalaan’s power is both awe-inspiring and terrifying; its culture is both beautiful and encroaching. Similarly, nationalist isolationism lurks below Lsel Station’s fight for independence, and undercuts the efforts of Mahit and others to stabilize diplomatic relations. This sentiment too is realistic to real-world efforts to stave off cultural devouring—territories located near empires like the Byzantine Empire, America, and others fight bitterly to keep their local traditions alive, even at the cost of greater political stability.

At its core, A Memory Called Empire is a story with no villains. Martine demonstrates masterful worldbuilding by forcing the reader to view the story through both Teixcalaanli and Stationer perspectives, including how they view each other and themselves. Teixcalaan’s history of conquest is inseparable from its rich culture of storytelling, and the Teixcalaanlitzlim themselves are unable to separate their identity from the concept of culture itself. Lsel Station, on the other hand, is fiercely protective of its independent thought—from underground comic books that compete with Teixcalaan literature in Lsel’s popular culture, to the carefully guarded imago-technology that could lead to annexation if revealed to the Empire. As a result, a novel masquerading a spacefaring political intrigue reveals fascinating dialogue surrounding cultural exchange, assimilation, and national identity.

Ivy Reviews Olin Library Books #2

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Fiction: Yellowface by R. F. Kuang, 2023

June Hayward, a self-described “brown-eyed, brown-haired basic white girl” from the Philly suburbs, will never be as successful of an author as her counterpart Athena Liu. While June’s debut novel is passed over again and again, Athena is dubbed “publishing’s newest prodigy … here to tell the AAPI stories we need” after her debut novel is nominated for Booker, Nebula, Hugo, and World Fantasy awards. According to June, Athena is “diverse enough” to succeed. Then Athena dies, and June finds the finished draft of her next novel.

What defines Yellowface is author R. F. Kuang’s masterful use of an unreliable narrator. Over the course of the book, readers bear direct witness to June’s immersive inner monologue as what starts as a “simple editing exercise” turns into a finalized manuscript of June’s – Athena’s – next novel. Each step of June’s descent seems so simple to her: why not soften some of the white characters when they’re so “cartoonishly racist” in Athena’s version? Why not rename Athena’s characters—the unsung Chinese soldiers of World War 1—to make them more palatable to American audiences? Why not rebrand as “Juniper Song” and speak on a panel about East Asian storytelling? By the time the world begins to learn the truth, June is so lost in her own narrative that at times it seems she’s forgotten that truth entirely. Even by the end of the novel, June never stops spinning a story—“cyberbullied”, “stalked”, and “gaslit” are the words she chooses to describe what she’s experienced.

Kuang crafts an even creepier story by setting much of June’s internal monologue during her endless Twitter doomscrolling sessions. June has few in-person conversations to tether her to reality—her only real friend dies with Athena, after all. Instead, she drowns herself in negative reviews, online discourse, and discussions of what a “tankie” is—all while engulfed in a paralyzing fear that someone might find out her secret and shatter her newfound success. I found that an unsettling nostalgia for my extremely online pandemic years crept up on me during these scenes, though I truly hope that for other readers this will be an unfamiliar experience. Kuang’s commitment to grounding her narrative in the awfulness of the Internet makes June’s narrative spiral even more immersive to the reader.

Halfway through the book, though, the Twitter mob makes an unexpected move: it turns on Athena herself. Formerly idolized by the Internet as a “paragon of good Asian American rep”, her legacy is transformed into that of a “stunning example of Western imperialism brainwashing”. The mob accuses her of every niche moral failing under the sun: from refusing to critique the Tiananmen Square survivors that have become Trump supporters, to being a “champagne socialist” rather than a true Matrix, even the godlike Athena Liu cannot escape the vitriol of Twitter leftists.

Much of this is pulled from Kuang’s own experience in the online literary world. Her previous novels, The Poppy War and Babel, are both undeniably critiques of the horrors of colonialism. Yet the Internet cannot seem to decide whether she is too overtly critical or not critical enough. Even Athena’s in-world haters mirror the words of Kuang’s loudest critics, who described Babel as “heavy-handed”, “didactic”, and “frequently interrupted by lectures on why imperialism is bad”. But like Athena, Kuang is simply telling the story of her life. What’s different about this novel is that in Yellowface, Kuang is looking at that life from an outsider’s perspective. In doing so, she holds up a mirror to the readers themselves and asks: Is this how you view me?

Double the Roommates, Triple the Fun!

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At this point in the housing process, you might be asking yourself: “Why would I choose to live in a triple? Isn’t it just worse than a double?” We wrote this article to challenge this idea on the grounds that when a triple is formed voluntarily, it can actually be a better experience than doubling—particularly for current first-years.

The primary benefit that a first-year has to gain from tripling next year is a route to living in an East Hall room. The brunt of our argument is going to be about this; as such, this article might be of less interest to upperclassmen who are guaranteed space in East Hall already. However, we noticed that during room selection last year, many of our peers (then first-years) strongly preferred a West Hall double over even an East Hall triple. This instinct—which mostly comes from a fear that triples will be physically and socially uncomfortable—is what we are disputing. 

Let’s talk about physical space first. Despite common misconception, our triple in EH419 is incredibly roomy. Altogether, we have three beds, three desks, three dressers, one minifridge, three milk crate shelves, two coffee tables, one bookshelf, two grappling hooks, one parking gate, and an extremely comfortable beanbag (that’s over seven extra pieces of furniture!). With thoughtful organization, we’ve kept a central floor space open for large gatherings, and a cozy reading nook fit for three. Taking additional steps like lofting a bed (which double rooms are not guaranteed access to) and leaning into vertical storage space has only made our room feel bigger.

Besides the stellar physical layout, we enjoy how our triple has allowed us to embrace a communal living style. Each roommate has a desk, a bed, and some closet space to call their own, but “ownership” of certain drawers, shelves, beanbag(s), and fridge space has completely blended together. For example, one of the dressers in our room serves as clothing storage in one drawer and shared dishware in another! When a roommate has a need, we all pitch in to meet that need—collectively. Shared grocery runs for snacks and medication have become commonplace, and instead of splitting the cost an even three ways every time, we simply rotate who makes the trip. We’ve found that we’re able to consistently lean on each other when we’re sick or busy, and that’s because of the significant trust we’ve built up as housemates.

This is all to say that we’ve learned a lot in the process of making our triple experience a successful one, and we’d like to offer guidance on how you can, too. In particular, there are a few archetypes of triple residents that make for an exceptional rooming experience: 

#1 – The Host: You love having groups of friends over, and you want a space that can be utilized as a prime hangout spot. Our room functions in this capacity: we regularly host groups of five or more friends, and we’ve run events like the Halloween Coffee Bar that have comfortably fit 20+ people at once. If you’re especially excited about suite life, consider that the spacious triple room functions as a lively suite lounge, especially with furniture additions like ottomans and tables.

#2 – The Traveler: You probably sleep in your room and not much else. Whether you’re camping in the woods, studying in the library, or just hanging out in the antelounge until 4am, “room time” isn’t a priority. By choosing to triple, you get the benefits of a large home base that isn’t wasted when you’re out and about.

#3 – The Homebody: Your priority is having a comfortable space to decompress and work. Though it might seem counterintuitive, this type of person can be a great fit for a triple with the right configuration of roommates and clever physical arrangement. A triple can look like a comfortable, quiet, and symbiotic relationship between three of these kinds of individuals—and this person can also make for a great combination with a Traveler or two!

A lot of our success has hinged on a willingness to communicate openly and compromise. Our roommate agreement, along with regular “family meetings”, gives us space to establish and modify rules as needed. For example, we decided that if one roommate wants to sleep, all socializing moves elsewhere – no questions asked. This is one way we’ve become comfortable setting and respecting boundaries, and as a result, we can make compromises before they become problems.

As an extension of this idea, it is important for you as a community member to acknowledge that your housing preferences exist within a broader context. By considering triple formations that you would feel comfortable living in, you’re helping ResLife make space for other residents that have particular housing needs. If you’re nervous about tripling, consider that there may still be a configuration that you would feel happy in—and take steps to find one!

The final thing worth considering—specifically for first years—is that you should plan a triple configuration because you might just have to live in one. Planning for this outcome will save you from a surprise roommate scramble on room selection day if your place in the selection order isn’t what you expected. That being said, we hope you’ll find that, like us, your triple configuration and future room will be preferable to any double.

If this article wasn’t convincing enough, then let us show you rather than tell you. Come to EH419 on the evening of March 6th to get a sense of what your triple experience could look like next year. We’ll have snacks!