A Long and Speaking Silence, the seventh in Nghi Vo’s enchanting Singing Hills series, takes us back to the beginning of Chih’s career as a cleric. We’ve gotten used to seeing a collected, competent Chih dealing with all sorts of supernatural unfinished business while also capturing stories from everyone they meet. But as we learn in this novella, it takes a lot of experience to become good at gathering the lore and histories of people who’ve lived through war, floods, pandemics, famines, and more.
In this entry, Chih is much less used to being out in the world. Not only have they been robbed straight off the ferry that brought them to Luntien, they’ve also yet to master the art of listening instead of peppering their subjects with questions. Their neixin companion, Almost Brilliant, despairs of Chih ever becoming a proper cleric. Chih has had to take a job waiting tables at a restaurant until their next pay packet arrives from the Singing Hills Abbey. They’re run off their feet and, when they do have a moment to ask for stories, they find that a lot of people in this city are reluctant to talk about the past.
Luntien, Chih soon learns, is a powder keg waiting to blow. Its location has made it the primary port of call for refugees from all over the empire. Waves of people have fetched up in Luntien before either moving on or settling in the city. There is a lot of tension between the people who loathe all these immigrants and their foreign ways. More than once, Chih is caught up in chase and fights between Luntien locals and the latest refugees to the city, the people of the war torn Verdant Isles. The locals call the islanders thieves and moochers. Even the charitable order in the city is at its wits end trying to feed and house everyone. It’s just a matter of time before widespread violence breaks out.
The title of this entry in the series comes from Chih’s observation that there are gaps in the Singing Hills’ archive. Government repression over the centuries has caused records to disappear. Widespread death also meant that stories that might’ve been captured by the clerics were lost forever. These silences in the archive “speak” to Chih of incalculable loss. Chih’s primary mission, in this and all of the other books in the series, is to stop those silences from forming. Every story deserves to be remembered. I profoundly sympathize with Chih’s point of view (and, to be honest, with their incorrigible habit of asking questions when they should be listening). I’ve also looked at the shelves in the library where I work and libraries I’ve visited and wondered about whose stories are missing. All that is to say, I consider A Long and Speaking Silence is an important book in this delightful series.