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The January Dancer by Michael Flynn.

A story about a far-future galaxy, spaceships, alien artifacts, terraformed planets, ftl-superhighways, the lot. But it’s also beautifully told, with a story-in-story framework, a mythical earth, descriptions of music, sounds, smells. And humor. Take this:

Hugh sniffed the meal’s aroma and made a face. “It lacks the True Coriander,” the Fudir said, without even looking up. “It lacks something. What’s the ‘true coriander’?” “No one knows for certain. We find it called for in many recipes, but whether a vegetable, a spice, or the flesh of some rare Terran beast, who can say? It was found only on Old Earth and the secret of it has been lost for centuries.”

It reminds me of Jack Vance. I love this stuff. See here for a longer review (not by me.) Get it, and enjoy your daily commute.

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