A few years back, I reviewed a tantalizing novella called The Tower of Mud and Straw. The author kindly reached out requesting feedback and the tale intrigued me and dazzled me with its dreamlike quality. But Yaroslav Barsukov did not seem satisfied with ending the story there and released a full novel last year that expands on the story that began in Tower. Sleeping Worlds Have No Memory maintains its fever dream aesthetic, diving deeper into its own mythos and themes, sometimes to great success while leaving some threads underutilized.
Shea Ashcroft saved hundreds of lives by dooming his career as Internal Minister. After refusing to order the gassing of citizens protesting against their Queen, he is sent south to a border province preparing for war. A defensive tower is being built, and at 1000 feet tall, it’s only halfway complete. He’s supposed to oversee the final stages of construction to make sure the Queen’s project is managed properly. The Duke of the region is none too pleased with Shea’s arrival and the few people within the Duke’s sphere all have shifting allegiances. It’s not long before Shea is caught between the various schemes. Guided by the haunting memories of his dead sister, and the theological concerns of a potential ally in the Duke’s circle, Shea will have to decide whether the Tower should be completed.
It’s not often I get to reflect on a book I adored with an updated and expanded version of the story. When I first heard about Sleeping Worlds, I was a bit hesitant to pick it up. The journey within Mud and Straw, while incomplete, felt thematically resonant, and I was worried that brushing it up would detract from its ambitious but nebulous goals. I only say nebulous because they are clearly there, but they’re not totally condensed, allowing for a bit of play between the reader and the author that, for me, opened up conversations in my mind about the nature of the novella.
I’m happy to report that Sleeping Worlds avoided my worst fears in that arena, allowing for the condensation of that thematic haze to build over time, instead of the ossification I was worried about. The dream-like quality Shea’s journey still resonates and is somewhat enforced by his memories seeping into his daily life. There are page breaks that symbolize the shift, but these time skips are not facilitated by chapter breaks. It led to some confusion at first, but once I started to feel the flow it became natural to me. The flashbacks felt positioned well, influencing Shea’s thoughts and actions, amplifying his present concerns. It made his behavior both rational and irrational at the same time. There was a sense that whoever he was in the moment was dictated by the memories that haunted him most about his sister. This bleeds over into a secondary character’s POV as she is also propelled by memories of her own past, and a fear that her past would shackle her to a life she didn’t want to live.
While Sleeping Worlds does a good job of creating a psychological basis for why its characters act the way they do, there is a little bit missing in terms of Shea’s raison d’être. He seems out of place in the world he exists in. Yes, he was a minister of internal affairs, but how he got there, and where he comes from besides owning a workshop, is not discussed. I don’t necessarily think it’s that much of an issue, especially in the novella form, but it was a thought that nagged at me because he makes such monumental decisions, but we have no idea how he gets to the point that he does. It sometimes balances out by heightening the haziness of his position and the lack of coherence as his mind bounces between past and present. But other times it’s a little too stark, especially when the pacing switches with the secondary POV.
The inclusion of the tower’s chief engineer as a POV both added to the story while also revealing some of its inconsistencies. I liked her as a character. Her motivations, paired with the pressures she faced, created an equally distraught character that had to work with Shea while trying to secure her own sort of legacy. Where her arc is a little shaky for me is in the latter sections of the book, where her window into hell is sporadic, nonsensical, and directionless. I would make the argument that it fits that she is literally trapped within the tower itself, having to determine her own future forward by destroying the one thing that would enshrine her legacy, but in the moment, she is just sort of scrambling inside something, disconnected from the larger political story at play.
This I’ll chalk up to personal misgivings, being of the profession myself. I appreciate the attempt to question ambition, especially through the lens of a smart person forced into a bad position, but it is the only chance to truly engage in the puzzle-solving and display of skill that such a profession can inculcate. I have had several conversations with people of various engineering degrees who realize that the alienated puzzles they solve are just a small part of a bomb waiting to be dropped on someone, but that the challenge of their specific task is fulfilling. It’s a conundrum I’ve personally tried to avoid, because I do think that the profession, especially its position within capitalism, tends to follow that groove. Whether I’ve succeeded is something to be determined on the scales of Anubis. But when it comes to Sleeping Worlds, I wish there was just a little more meat on this section of the book. The instinct is sound, and it warms my heart that it was one Barsukov followed, especially in this book.
But what about the rest of the book, the new stuff that comes with the expanded story? Well, I enjoyed it too. I do think it loses some of the dreamy flavor that permeates the front half, but Shea’s journey to the kingdom he had been preparing defenses against dives into some good political intrigue. There is a bit of a whiplash that requires the reader to learn a new set of characters, just as Shea is. This section of the book questions his ideals as he has been disconnected from the empire he calls home. A paranoia takes hold and new itches pop up that he can’t help but scratch. An aspect of this part of the story I enjoyed is his unending need to clarify, to investigate. When offered a chance to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labor that got him to where he is, he kicks the hornet’s nest. Where it leads is intriguing on both a thematic and plot level, despite this part of the book feeling a little rougher. It makes sense as it is the newer section with ideas begging to be fleshed out. It does get there, but it is a bit shakier than the front half.
A point in Sleeping Worlds’ favor is that it does deliver on its themes by exploring them from different angles. The Mimic Tower is a powerful image that captures the problem at hand. While in the book it’s viewed as a crack religious belief held by a nomadic people centuries ahead in technology, it feels really easy for any reader to pick up on. Towers will always spawn more towers. Escalation begets escalation. To design a tool, especially one of war, with the expectation that it won’t be used is folly. To expect it won’t be answered by those you antagonize is naive. While Shea is personally, a little too easily on the right side of this argument from the get-go, it does imbue him with a bit of tragedy as he constantly tries to impart that wisdom on those who would not listen.
Some of you might be asking, “Well is it better than Tower of Mud and Straw?” And I would answer yes, despite its more apparent flaws. Sleeping Worlds Have No Memory has more interesting conversations with itself. It strives to do more with the half-remembered dream that Barsukov was trying to write down. The characters have more to do, more to say, even if they don’t feel grounded. And based on the ending to the story, I think that lack of grounding is almost a part of the point. It’s a book that rewards you if you stick with it. I’m glad I picked it up, and I look forward to seeing the next project that Barsukov embarks on.
Rating: Sleeping Worlds Have No Memory – It will haunt your daydreams
-Alex
