I absolutely loved Zima Blue. Being fed the robot’s story piece by piece was enthralling, and the story’s grappling with memory was fascinating. But my favorite lines were undoubtedly this:

“All we had been told was to make our way to Murjek, a water­ logged world most of us had never heard of before. Murjek’s only claim to fame was that it hosted the one hundred and seventy-first known duplicate of Venice, and one of only three Venices rendered entirely in white marble.”

It took me a while to figure out what made these lines so impactful. I still have trouble putting my finger on what exactly it is, but I’ve thought of a few things.

First, it says so much more than it directly addresses, laden with subtext and implications. This is what all great writing does, and it’s done really well here. A greater universe is hinted at without being explained, and it makes it feel more real than if it was laid out in front of us.

Second, this has a humorous flavor to it. When I watched the Netflix adaption of Zima Blue, I found it to be preachy and somewhat obnoxious. This line helps set a tone in the story that masterfully avoids a story that comes across as having been written by an author who took it too seriously.

Finally, these two sentences fantastically convey the significance of the setting—or in this case the insignificance. The fact that Murjek hosts “one of only three Venices rendered entirely in white marble” is not only hilarious, but it also really gives the reader a sense of the story’s place in its galaxy. In it being subtly portrayed relatively meaningless, we find the setting more meaningful.

These lines made me consider how I could explain the significance of “the streets” to someone why knew nothing of cities. I’m not sure I would do it exactly, but reading Zima Blue has convinced me it could be done.