The third book in the Investigations of Mossa and Pleiti series by Malka Older, The Potency of Ungovernable Impulses, is a delightful and rewarding next instalment that builds on the previous books and charts a most interesting course for future ones. As always with Older, the worldbuilding, societal commentary, and the core mystery plot stand out, and continue to develop in depth and in richness. The Potency of Ungovernable Impulses is also the most Sherlockian instalment so far in the best of ways—a proper private investigator-type story with many a nod to Holmes, in which Pleiti finds herself called to aid a former university classmate who is concerned about potential attacks against her cousin.
I enjoyed this story so much that I re-read it a second time before writing my review. [1] My only regret was not re-reading The Mimicking of Known Successes and The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles before diving into my second read of this third book; I kept getting some of the plot points of book two mixed up with the plot of book three, and some of Pleiti’s continued change and growth felt a bit blunted without full awareness of what had come before. Conversely, while I did enjoy the plot just as much the first time I read The Potency of Ungovernable Impulses, I found the investigative threads and denouement a lot more clear and logical the second time around.
Older’s worldbuilding for this series continues to enthral. The way humans adapted to living on this gaseous planet, how language has evolved and warped and transformed since humans left Earth, the references to our current period, the way time and a changed environment has affected the use and meanings of certain words as well as norms: this is a world that feels so real and lived in, with always more to learn about and explore. Concepts such as a Jovian melancholy adds depth to both the world and the characters at the same time:
Jovian melancholy… so named because of its pervasiveness during the early days of the settlement. Hardly surprising that people would be depressed: the world had ended, and it had entirely because of the greed, imaginative failures, smugness, and lassitude of human beings; there was grief, of course, and guilt, and the accumulated uncertainty and terror of the years on space stations, crammed into those unforgiving environments, desperately searching for a more livable way to continue to exist in the universe; and even once it was possible to move onto Giant, the early platforms had been exceedingly bleak.
Given that a core tenet of Giant, encapsulated and embodied in our Classicist main character Pleiti, is the hope of eventually repairing Earth and returning there, the constant comparisons to our world make this type of worldbuilding feel almost innovative rather than reductive. The juxtaposition of the modern-day reader’s Earth with this far-future Giant not only provides ample space for societal commentary and criticism, but creates depth in terms of worldbuidling. Despite its long-term goal, the people of Giant have created and maintained a unique identity which, despite always being influenced and compared to the old world, is not just a copy-paste cosplaying affair. After all, as a Modernist ethnographer says to Pleiti, “Indeed. But what I wondered was, why do you think we are less worthy of study than our ancestors?”
In fact, this is one of the many slow-burn series-wide plot threads that I am excited to continue reading about, wherein the characters of this world struggle with and find more pride and joy and worth in their current society as it is now. Over the three books so far, there have been explorations of ethics, of adaptations and advancement, and of ways of progressing past the original rules of Giant, all while grappling with the legacy that brought them to this planet. Questions such as “Do you think we’re ruining this planet as we ruined Earth?” haunt the narrative. Because Giant in many ways tries not to replicate the past that led to the world ending, while nonetheless wishing and working toward reclaiming Earth, the societal structures and institutions are decidedly not meant to mimic our own corrupt and oppressive systems and institutions; nevertheless, human nature is human nature, institutions are institutions, and it seems even on Giant there may be a need for a private detective—especially private investigators who have more specific knowledge in certain fields, are discreet, and are more likely to take someone’s concerns seriously even if it might appear trivial to others.
The language especially was a highlight in this latest volume—both the new words and conventions of Giant, but also the various uses of old-Earth slang and phrases in completely different ways and contexts than we, the readers, are used to. Words and phrases such as “Dafuq,” “Go. Protecc,” and “suvver” (defined by the characters as “selfish prat […] From the Classical […] S-U-V”) alongside “new” words such as “chisme,” weave a tantalizing and sometimes hilarious tapestry, of which I want to discover more. More than that, I want to study this language that Older has so lovingly and cunningly crafted, its evolution, uses and connotations, development—I need to know more! Because this is mostly a story about academia—with the main plot revolving around accusations of plagiarism against the cousin of Pleiti’s former classmate, Villette—the worldbuilding mostly built on previous books while introducing a few new concepts and inventions, which allowed aspects such as the language used by the characters to shine even more.
Equally, and perhaps because Pleiti herself is even more adrift, still grappling with events of past books and trying to find a way forward, the plot—its mystery and investigation—was especially tense, with a series of sinister happenings that build dread and confusion for both the characters and the reader. The sheer insidiousness of the attacks suffered by Villette, as well as the often backbiting and false environment of Stortellen’s Modernist faculty, create an almost chilling atmosphere in which Older is able to delve into academic tensions, asking questions of study, research, wider application, and ethics.
I also loved how the mystery was both resolved and then revealed to the reader. Rather than keeping the final suspect to themselves, Mossa and Pleiti divulge their suspicions to both the people they are trying to help, as well as the reader—with the caveat they might be wrong—and I truly enjoyed how both Mossa and Pleiti came to the same conclusion in their own ways. Pleiti’s method especially—that is, literary analysis—was both really cool and also very much grounded in the kind of character she is, as well as her own work as a Classical scholar at one of Giant’s most prestigious universities. Simultaneously, and as always, the character development feels like a slow burn, both in terms of Pleiti’s own evolving way of looking at her work and the world around her, and her relationship with Mossa. It takes time, after all, to change, and often we find new roads only after the end of an adventure.
What I do appreciate is how Pleiti is affected and changed by the actions of those around her, which forces her to confront certain prejudices, or to see institutions such as academia in a new light, or to reaffirm her connection with and love for Mossa. Just as Giant is changing, slowly and in uneven ways, so is Pleiti (and Mossa, for that matter). Each adventure brings them both closer and further forward. Most importantly, I loved how Pleiti stayed resolute in her commitment to help investigate, despite it not being her actual and primary occupation—that she saw the potential danger, made a promise, and upheld it despite the many challenges and personal feelings. Petanj came to Pleiti for help, and that was that.
As the title says, this book is truly about the potency of ungovernable impulses—toward love, toward melancholy, toward jealousy. These are emotions that don’t always have to make sense, or that aren’t necessarily rooted in a logical reason. The passions engendered by one’s feelings, and the ever-apt questions of how to live and deal with them in a way that aids us, rather than harming us and others. As Pleiti says to Mossa, “Mossa, we do not condemn her for her compulsions, but for her actions,” and “I don’t know what impulse pushes you into melancholy, but I promise you, it is no stronger than that which pulls me to you.”
Indeed, the nature of this volume’s plot meant I missed Pleiti and Mossa working together as a couple in the way they did in The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles. Their relationship arc in this book made sense, and in many ways was very beautiful, but I hope to see them in more romantic moments, perhaps, in future instalments. Let’s just say that I really hope Pleiti does seriously consider taking that sabbatical, and trying out Mossa’s suggestion of a very specific side venture. Especially with a crucial piece of news the characters receive around halfway through the book, I wonder how it will all play out—and I wait with bated breath to see where Malka Older will take us next.
Endnotes
[1] I should note here that I received an ARC from the author herself. [return]