
Ogres
by Adrian Tchaikovsky
This novella is short, brutal, and pointed, using a deceptively simple fantasy premise to deliver a sharp allegory about class and power. Tchaikovsky begins with what feels like a folk tale about giant ogres ruling over ordinary people, then steadily complicates the frame until the social critique becomes unmistakable. The second-person narration adds pressure and intimacy, making the story feel like both fable and accusation. Tchaikovsky is excellent at pacing revelation; each new layer sharpens the book’s anger. The world-building is economical but effective, serving the novella’s moral purpose rather than distracting from it. It’s not subtle, but it doesn’t need to be. The point lands because the storytelling is lean and confident. A compact, sharp-edged piece of political fantasy.
