Storyline: 3/5 
 Characters: 4/5 
 Writing Style: 3/5 
 World: 4/5 
 On a spectrum with "thriller" at one end and "speculative fiction" on the other, Ancillary Justice scores far down toward the end of the former. In fact, there's little speculation or contemplation here of significant issues or matters deep. Instead, Ann Leckie gives us a tale that is saturated with science fiction. Everything here drips of it. The highlights of the book - the characters and perspectives - are simply not possible outside the science fiction setting. Leckie uses the trappings not to explore the implications of technology but to let us hear a voice and interact with the world in a way that would be impossible without far future technology. For the sci fi junkie, then, this is a lot of fun. 
 Leckie does other things right as well. She often situated herself at just the right distance away from the subject matter to best view it. Similar to how a film director has to decide when to zoom in on the face during a conversation or action scene and when to pull out for a wider look at the scene, Leckie found just the right spot for the narration. It was obvious in the first chapter. Rather than the deluge method of world-building, the author gave us hints and tidbits that let us know we were in an exotic setting with curious characters - none of it satisfactorily explained but slowly introduced and built on. She did it too with the shifts from perspectives - zooming in and out at just the right moments to give us the best views of the action and developments. 
 There were a large number of plot advancements and sequences that were rather dumb and did little more than throw some action in and move the story along. There was the socio-political villain which has been a trope re-emergent through untold movies and other books, science fiction or otherwise. There was very little subtlety on this. And then, there was that whole pronoun thing. (view spoiler)[ At first, I thought, neat, it is a feminist point in that it is showing us what it would be like if feminine nouns and pronouns were used to cover both genders - like "he" has been used as a gender neutral pronoun encompassing all people throughout much of English-language history or the way "brotherhood" and "mankind" are used to encapsulate both men and women. I thought, she's trying to show me what it feels like to have to translate in your head - to imagine that the gendered pronoun which obviously doesn't actually refer to you really does indicate you. For a short time, I thought that was a fair and nifty point. It soon became evident that this wasn't the point at all. Whatever point she was making here, though, did not come through, and the reading experience was confusing without any upside to justify it. If Leckie was trying to get us to see from the perspective of Breq, to be unable to see genders, that would have been a fine and thoughtful character-building tactic. In English, however, we have a pronoun devoid of gender associations - "it." And if "it" is too dehumanizing, there are ample new pronouns being floated around in the progressive, activist, and academic communities to cover people whom are trying to shed gender indications. Other science fiction authors had already tangled with this - Ian McDonald's 2004 River of Gods come immediately to mind - and there is no good reason for Leckie to have been unaware of these options. By using "she" and "daughter" throughout the book for every character it caused confusion. Regardless of one's political leanings on the topic of gendered language, it is useful for differentiating characters and making clear whom is speaking or being spoken of. Someone taking this theme on as a more serious activist or politically progressive challenge would have been more careful. If you want to remove gendered language - fine. Give us new ways of distinguishing between the characters - height, weight, class, ethnicity, degree of friendship or kinship, or something completely novel. Leckie's "she" was a gimmick, unfortunately. (hide spoiler)]Not only was it not deep, but it made the reading more confusing, and a inferior work as a result. There were a few places where Leckie's careful and balanced worldbuilding came up short, too. Unfortunately one of these places was with the primary antagonist and the crux of the plot. In her worldbuilding, she selected a few areas to focus in on and develop, leaving details and sketches of a bigger world draped around the centered pieces. When she did this with the villain, I, as reader was unable to fully appreciate developments. I was told that something was so and had to accept it. I didn't understand how it could happen or if it was something that would shock and surprise others in the Radch world. I couldn't anticipate problems, vulnerabilities, or options. It was the lazy way out for the author. She took this way out quite a lot, and as a result the book felt more like a 200-page breeze of a read than a solid 386-page new classic. Though fun at the time, this is not one I'm going to remember for long and will go in that pile of forgotten guilty-pleasures. 
 This reminded me a lot of (view spoiler)[ Scalzi's Ghost Brigade's (hide spoiler)] and was, I think, of similar quality (though with different positive and negative features).