It was amusingly refreshing to be reminded of an ant’s body parts and what an enthralling dive into an ant’s life this was. We literally make a mountain of an anthill as we live as part of an ant colony through every page of Magnus Singula. A site we often only describe as a fist-sized mound of mud on the ground. Franz gives us a detailed tour of the inside: its interiors and architecture leaving nothing to imagination.
Understanding the life of an ant, something I now notice the author does with ease, is achieved by flinging us back and forth, offering glimpses of igins into the past and anticipations of eks ahead.
I was engulfed; it felt like falling into one of my occasional rabbit holes, chasing parts and piecing them together with a worrying hyperfixation only comparable to a psychedelic high.
By now it’s evident Franz has cast a hypnotic spell. I can’t speak for others though… Every page is an eager chase for the next. Shall we delve into the standout themes of an ant’s life? Something, even my role as an aunt still wouldn’t suffice. Lmfao!
The Cost Of Order
As a huge proponent of the caste system, it only hit me now that I actually wouldn’t survive it. Right from the prologue, I found myself in love with Magnus Singula even before realizing what exactly he stood for. I guess I’m just drawn to instigators and troublemakers.
Because of the power order wields over me, I was immediately taken by the sheer organization and structure of an ant colony within the first few pages. Even more impressive is discovering it’s a matriarchal society, only women could achieve such mean feats (No Shade…LoL!). The definitive roles, the compartmentalization, the flawless mechanism of the system…it all tickles my tingles. There is no confusion; each entity knows its role and serves it diligently.
Yet it dawns on me, like a wet cloth, how much blind faith is required to keep such an organized society running. Lifetime-assigned duties are a strong marker of centralized power. What Magnus magnificently exposes is that, the cost of order is the erasure of individualism. Autonomy, talent and personal interests; basic elements of life, simply don’t exist.
The most common counter Magnus faces as he tries to enlighten fellow ants on what they’re being robbed of, is: why does he so badly want to fix what, to them, isn’t even broken? And that then brings us to…
Is There Really a Foolproof Governing System?
I stand with Magnus and everything he stands for, but isn’t an ant colony safer under autocracy? Considering how new life is brought forth and how they are constantly on the lookout for invasion, their nursing and security bases appear almost foolproof.
Democracy sounds good on paper, but even for us humans, can we really say it has served us well? Kenya, for instance, claims to enjoy an extremely democratic form of governance; but is it really? Beneath the illusion, leadership seems predetermined by the ruling 1%. Even with a clear rulebook on decentralization, resources are hoarded by the high and mighty, weaponized to oppress and strong-arm the rest into submission.
As someone who fought against family to carve my own career path, I recall one moment when a colleague and I had grown so weary of the art scene that we began to fantasize: how much easier life would be if we were simply born into an assigned path, pursuing it without a second thought. We would serve diligently in a structured system, receive standard remuneration and retire without ever grappling with the weight of choice.
But I’ve since learned that nothing is as frustrating as it is liberating, as passion and knowledge. Even as Magnus unearths truth after truth from a past so carefully buried, perhaps in hopes of being forgotten, we begin to truly understand the phrase ignorance is bliss. The rest of the worker ants don’t stress, because they simply don’t know.
Evil’s Requires a Support System
Remember the R. Kelly exposé? We condemn his acts bitterly but often forget, he did not operate in a vacuum. Take, for instance, the altering of Aaliyah’s age so he could marry her as a child. Considering the number of legal processes involved in changing a minor’s age and then publicly marrying her, it is unfathomable how many people had to play a part; including her parents, for such a preposterous act to succeed.
In the royal archives, Magnus walks us through generations of ant royalty, and boy, are they flawed. As he calls the queen a glorified egg layer, this description starts to feel fitting the more we uncover their transgressions. From inbreeding to cannibalism, from killing family members to dubious ascents to power, the queens have seen their share of the wild, wild west.
Every evil act requires a cast and crew. There is always an instigator, at least two parties committing the actual crime and a support system enabling it all; whether by actively aiding or passively witnessing without ever blowing the whistle. Sometimes, the supporting cast doesn’t even realize they’re playing that role. Take the drone summoned to report seeing Princess Rue carrying larvae. That single testimony sealed the accusation of cannibalism against her, with no investigation whatsoever. Her mother, the queen, used it to confirm her fears and condemned Rue to death. In truth, it was a well-laid trap by Rue’s sister, who sought to eliminate her competition for the throne.
Orderly as the colony may appear, it is absurd how much unchecked power the queen wields. No constitution, no accountability, even when her crimes amount to what we might call crimes against ant-nity. (That’s humanity, but for ants. Lol!) Still, it’s understandable that royalty operates under extreme pressure: to whom much is given, much is expected. The survival of future generations depends solely on the queen. We even see Queen Resius’ descent into cannibalism triggered by ridicule over not brooding enough eggs. The sting came from Dusella, an ant advanced in age, drawing a sharp parallel with human experiences where mothers-in-law bully daughters-in-law for failing to provide grandchildren. The word barren has long been weaponized against women, and just like Queen Resius, some have taken extreme measures to meet society’s expectations.
All this is to say: yes, evil existed, and it always required more than one ant to materialize. But perspective sometimes explains, if not justifies, why it happened. Still, everything must be done in moderation. Overindulgence in evil leads to ruin; as we saw with Resius, the Mad Queen, whose excesses spiraled into a war that scarred ant history.
Individualism
The entire premise of the book rests on this. As an advocate personality who has had to fight systems so deeply entrenched they’re practically engraved as culture, I must admit, it’s a lonely as fuck path to take. Nature seems to brood mostly followers, with true leaders few and far between.
Magnus Singula lives up to his name, single-handedly challenging the status quo. As expected, he is quickly labeled troublesome and even his fellow worker ants begin to view him through skewed lenses. We see Constance already treating him with measured abhorrence when he first approaches her, even though she herself questions much about the system.
I can’t help but wonder if it’s a gift inherent to divergent personalities. The ability to sniff out those on the border of impressionable and then patiently woo them over into sharing their ideals. Magnus does this masterfully with Constance. It’s a lonely road and sometimes one believer is enough to keep the fire burning while you work to win more over. At first, I thought Magnus would quietly chip away at the system, converting one worker at a time into his fold. It genuinely surprised me when he boldly summoned a public gathering to plant the seed of revolution. Even I feared for him.
But as the story unfolds, we realize he had two things in his favor. First, by garnering so much attention and openly declaring royalty a dictatorship that could not stomach alternative perspectives, any harm done to him would only prove his point…Anarchy would descend on the colony, effectively tying the queen’s hands. You must admit, that’s an impressive display of emotional intelligence.
The second factor was time. In his digging, Magnus discovered that a drone’s life barely lasts an igin. Knowing this, he might as well do what he must while he can. Here, I was conflicted. Was it selfish to risk leaving Constance, with whom he’d grown so close, to grieve his inevitable passing? Or was it selfless, dedicating his short life to sparking change before it ended?
As much as I hold Magnus in high regard, I can’t ignore one flaw: he wasn’t thinking the entire concept through. An overhaul of the system to allow autonomy and happiness sounds ideal, but what about the colony’s security? Such a shift would compromise their defenses, leaving them vulnerable to enemies while they figured out a new balance. If sustenance isn’t foolproof, extinction could be at the door.
Just as I’ve come to understand about feminine and masculine energies, individualism must complement collectivism through compromise and balance. Neither can truly stand alone.
Other Things I Found Interesting
Mother Tithonia and The Great Beyond. Even in the ant colony, we encounter theism or rather, monotheism. There’s a surrender of all that lies beyond ant power to a higher being, Mother Tithonia. At first, I assumed The Great Beyond was a euphemism for ceasing to exist. But when Captain Pima disposes of Princess Rue, she says, “Till we meet again in The Great Beyond,” signifying a belief in life after death. I found that profoundly and beautifully, human.
I still held out hope for a happy ending, even knowing how slim those chances were. LOL! Here in Kenya, we don’t really do that, tragedy always seals the deal. Still, I loved that Franz gave us romantics a love story. And not just any love story; Magnus and Constance is a bond so intense I’m sure telenovelas would complain. Their relationship raises more questions than answers. Through their consummation, we discover that it’s not only the queen who can brood eggs and that some drones, like Magnus, don’t inevitably die after mating. These questions, however, aren’t answered in this book. Franz seems to be telling us: write your own, Lmfao!
As a middle child, I will always notice a fellow middle child. Rowena is no exception. True to custom, she’s completely forgotten once Regina ascends to power and we literally never hear of her again. Yet she was Queen Punzel’s first choice. The middle child: always convenient, rarely loved. Rowena was fascinating, she tamed beetles, creatures that actually preyed on ants. She carved out her own world, creating her own joy. And all it takes for Regina to convince her to become second-in-command, is promising she can continue rearing her beetles in peace. Lol!
And then there’s vengeance. Rue was so blinded by anger that her revenge plan to me felt chaotic and fruitless. We don’t even learn whether Regina, who initially set her up, was ever captured by the termites. Rue instead takes it all out on Captain Pima, who honestly deserved her admiration more than her wrath. Still, as she fought for survival in the jungle, I kept wondering: why fight so hard to live when death feels inevitable? It’s a question I often ask about humans too. Even in our weakest, most incapacitated states, we cling to life. Maybe Rue’s rage was also her survival instinct. Either way, I’d just tell her: HEAL. Lol!
And Franz, if you’re still asking whether I think Magnus is spineless, like I once claimed about all the men in your books, my answer is no. Magnus Singula definitely had a spine… metaphorically, at least. Physically? Well, he dies in a stampede sooo… LoL!