In an era in which humanity has been pushed back to a semi-medieval tech level (though the most advanced culture has radio, among other items), a empire based in what used to be Mexico which recently conquered an ancient city state on the site of New Orleans is pushing up the the Jugular (Mississippi) River to try to conquer a semi-nomadic and notoriously fiercely independent culture in the plains. Despite the North American setting, one of the cultures seem at all North American (unlike, say, "No Truce with Kings"). The empire (Rahid) was itself conquered by a nomadic cavalry culture (Baromm) a few generations earlier, and the feel of the story is more like Manchu China invading Dzungaria than, say, the wars of US Cavalry against the Plains Indians. The POV shifts among Lady Donya of the quasi-libertarian Rogaviki, Josserek of the technlogically sophisticated Seafolk based in Australia, (rather like the Pacific confederation Anderson used in some early stories) and Sidir, the commander of the Barommian army. Anderson's sympathies are obviously with Donya and Josserek, but as often with his "villains" Sidir also has an understandable point of view. Rogaviki women have a reputation for being sexually irresistible to non-Rogaviki men, and both Josserek and SIrdir become Donya's lovers at different points in the story. Eventually Josserek develops a theory of why there is this attraction --and why Rogaviki literally cannot bear living in large groups for long. However, this is only revealed in a postscript after Sidir and his army have perished in a battle on the frozen river sightly reminiscent of the Russian defeat of the Teutonic Knights at Lake Piepus. ( )

I seem to have liked this 1976 Poul Anderson novel more than most. I’ve read several of his novels in the past six months or so, and he tends to be a bit of a hit or miss author for me. This one, which is built around solidly science fiction premises, but in many ways reads more like a fantasy, was a hit.

At his best Anderson brings a sad poetic sensibility to his storytelling, and I certainly felt that here. While I can’t really argue that the characters and the societies they inhabit are particularly plausible, I found them complicated and interesting.

Somehow he makes a story about a matriarchal society led by strangely attractive, pheromaniacal (I know that’s not really a word, but if it were it would be the right one to use here), and fiercely independent women (who are every bit as interested in a romp in the sack with a random stranger as your average adolescent male science fiction reader) not feel gratuitous. ( )

This is pretty much a standard post-apocalypse story, except that Anderson presents the idea that idealized native americas have developed. They have very close ties to the land, almost no sense of ownership, and are extremely protective of the animals that live there. When threatened by a 'civilized' Empire with overwhelming force, they have to react, but that would require cooperation and strategy, two things they do not do well. A very interesting take on this theme. ( )