Wherein I review sci-fi and fantasy books in the format of a conversation with a mildly rabid fellow reader. Bold are the questions my (entirely imaginary) and definitely adversarial blog reader asks me.
The book: Ok I'm cheating here because I'm reviewing the entire Ancillary series by Anne Leckie all at once. Ancillary Justice, Ancillary Sword and Ancillary Mercy are the three books that make up this trilogy.
The rating: one of my favourite series of all time. Ancillary Justice won the Hugo and the Nebula for a reason; Leckie knocked it out of the park.
The plot, in 20 words or less: A zombie cyborg defies their programming to fight against a crumbling Empire.
But why did you love it?
The coolest thing for me about the Ancillary series was how Leckie managed to write convincingly about a character that is capable of having multiple simultaneous experiences. Because the main character in this series is a starship, the Justice of Toren, the starship is constantly able to monitor multiple inputs and experiences, all happening simultaneously (through cameras on multiple decks, through sensors that monitor and analyze its crews facial expressions, body language, temperature, heart rate, even hormones.) Further, Toren has multiple Borg type ancillaries that walk both through the ship and can walk on planets, all simultaneously beaming video and data feeds back to the overarching consciousness ship itself. This means that Leckie was able to write with a near omniscient viewpoint by the narrator but still be true to that narrator's personal knowledge and experience. Ie the starship really can see multiple things happening at once, really can make assumptions about another characters internal emotional state, and so Leckie gets the benefits of writing from both an omniscient viewpoint and the personal closeness and investment that a participant narrator provides.
When one of the spaceship's ancillaries (Breq) becomes separated from the controlling consciousness of the ship, the narrative structure changes from this omniscience to a more limited point of view where the narrator can only speculate on whats happening outside of himself. I viscerally felt the extent of Breq's loss through this stylistic change, and felt disoriented to the world without Breqs former (near) omniscience. It was a masterful way to make me, the reader, experience the extent of Breq's loss.
What stood out: The dense layers of the world building. The originality of the story. The depth of the characters.
How even personal identity is scarred by violence when living under a colonialist society.
So you're saying you liked it for political reasons! Aha! Are you by chance any part of a secret cabal of hugo nominators who are working towards a nefarious goal of promoting (gasp) works by women and people of color?
Nope! But it is amazing how many people seem to believe such a cabal exists.
In sum: Anne Leckie, a female writer, wrote a book so good it deserved the Hugo, the Nebula, and (arguably most impressively!) a rare place in my "I read it twice" bookshelf.

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