Space Opera (Space Opera #1) by Catherynne M. Valente

Space Opera is the first in Catherynne Valente's Space Opera duology. 

In this book, humankind is introduced to other intelligent life in the universe! Yay! Except that it means humans have to go up against all the other intelligent life forms in a singing competition and the losing intelligent life gets nuked from existence. We follow Decibel Jones as he tries to write and perform the song that will save humanity.

What we have here is if Douglas Adams (he of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fame), Eurovision, and very long sentences had a baby. I think this Goodreads review says it best:

The sentences in this book were EXHAUSTING. It did seem like Valente wanted to make me chuckle at every sentence, but I swear to you, I was so tired after reading every sentence and keeping track of clauses and tangents that all I wanted to do was close the book and go to bed. 

It has so much promise. Such an interesting world! Such a fun premise! Decibel is an interesting choice to save humanity! But the writing is just not my style. It felt like I was an acid trip that I didn't know I was going to go on. Maybe it's for you. Valente does have hardcore fans. But I have DNFed Valente before and I am pretty sure I'm not going to go back to the well.

Humorous books are not always perfect for every reader. There were some funny observations in this book and some pointed ones, but I felt a little bit like I was a stand-up show where the comedian was not reading the room. 

3/5 stars (the premise is good! the world-building is excellent! I like Decibel!)

Lines of note:

No matter how mad, bad, and dangerous to know a civilization gets, unto every generation are born the lonely and the uncool, destined to forever stare into the candy-store window of their culture, and loneliness is the mother of ascension. (page 112)

Ugh. Are we destined to always have lonely people? 

Because the opposite of fascism isn't anarchy, it's theater. When the world is fucked, you go to the theater, you go to the shine, and when the bad men come, all there is left to do is sing them down. You didn't get it, I didn't think you understood, you can't sing a dirge to the reaper, he's already hear them all. You gotta slaughter him with joy and a beat like the best of all possible shags, and because somehow, my nan's cartoons always had it right and the Care Bear Stare is the most powerful force in the world...(page 144)

I feel like this passage spoke to me in 2025...theater is what it is right now. 

But most people can only be so anxious and so terrified and so sleepless and so cowed and awed before the yawning abyss of the future for so long. Eventually, the body simply can't sustain it. Eventually, some work has to get done. Eventually, adrenal glands need a bit of a break. Even in the face of possible utter extinguishment of the human candle, one does, eventually, if it all goes on long enough and there is absolutely nothing one can do but sit there in one's own fear-stink, get a bit bored. (page 219)

Honestly, this made me feel better about how I just had to take a break from the news. I can't just live in fear. 

Things I looked up:

cavemen of Lascaux (page 25) - Lascaux is famous for its Palaeolithic cave paintings, found in a complex of caves in the Dordogne region of southwestern France.

chantry (page 34) - an ecclesiastical term that may have either of two related meanings:

a chantry service, a set of Christian liturgical celebrations for the dead (made up of the Requiem Mass and the Office of the Dead), or

a chantry chapel, a building on private land, or an area in a parish church or cathedral reserved for the performance of these celebrations.

neoteny (page 35) - also called juvenilization, is the delaying or slowing of the physiological, or somatic, development of an organism, typically an animal

Hat mentions (why hats?): 

hat rack of a head (page 24)

...something you wouldn't let into public school even with a hat on...(page 111)

They aren't picky, jumping from species to species with a vaudeville smile, a high kick, and a tip of the putrefying hat. (page 155)

"Please forgive the arrogance of a being who cannot even dream of becoming a hat rack for the use of those as exalted as yourselves..." (page 216)

"...we're in the interstellar equivalent of a bunch of adorable grandparents in clogs or lederhosen or boat hats, but I'm telling you we do it so damn sable, they don't want anyone else. Somebody's got to get up there in traditional costume and sing the songs of their people and remind these beat-junkies what's coal." 

Oort could feel the translator fungus on his throat steaming with the effort of interpreting whatever the Elakh had actually said that came out as "clogs," "lederhosen," and "boat hats." (page 236-237)

No matter how the tourists pulled at his hat, he did not move one solitary muscle. (page 241)