Just finished ‘The Mercy of Gods’ by James S. A. Corey. Good book. Really enjoyed it (a little short) and looking forward to the next ones.
The one thing that kept jumping out at me the whole time is that our heroes, the ones we are supposed to empathize and cathartically internally commiserate with, are, prior to the invasion and during their captivity, doing the exact same things, and holding the exact same attitudes, toward their test subjects that the aliens do and hold toward them. Animals up, animals down.
Made it somewhat difficult to really care what happened to them. I mean, a bunch of whiny upper-crust ladder climbers getting a pride-obliterating bitch slap from bigger bullies than they are is good television (or, in this case, good reading). But yeah. When the big bads made an appearance, I didn’t feel like I was reading about aliens. I was reading about humans, historical, present and future.
Maybe humans just need a good holocaust every once in a while to keep ‘em honest, you know? Disabuse them of their fantasies about themselves. What is, is.