She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

Desire is the cause of all suffering. All Zhu had ever desired was to live. Now she felt the pure strength of that desire inside her, as inseparable as her breath or qi, and knew she would suffer from it. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the awful magnitude of the suffering that would be required to achieve greatness in the chaotic, violent world outside.”

This book OBLITERATED me 🙃
While I can see why She Who Became the Sun has drawn comparisons to Mulan (we have Zhu ‘posing’ as a man), The Song of Achilles (we have a ‘close’ bond between two soldiers, one a lord the other a general), and The Poppy War (harsh backdrop + war/battles + main characters who do questionable things), what this novel really reminded of Mary Renault’s historical novels (like her Alexander the Great trilogy). But brutal. I mean, x1000 more brutal (so, think Mary Renault + you are being sucker-punched).

“All of it had been nothing more than the mechanistic motion of the stars as they brought him this opportunity: the path to his fate. And once he stepped upon it there would be no turning back.
It was an opportunity he wanted, and at the same time it was the very last thing he wanted: it was a future too horrible to bear. But even as he prevaricated and agonized, and shrank from the thought of it, he knew it wasn’t a matter of choice. It was his fate, the thing no man can ever refuse.”

In this reimagining of the life of Zhu Yuanzhang, the peasant-turned-emperor founder of the Ming Dynasty, Parker-Chan transports her readers to Mongol-occupied imperial China. Famine, poverty, plagues From the very opening pages we are plunged into a harsh and unforgiving world. In 1345 the Zhu children, a boy and a girl from the famine-stricken Zhongli village are given opposing fortunes. The boy, Zhu Chongba, is promised ‘greatness’, his “deeds will bring a hundred generations of pride to [his] family name”. The girl’s fate? “Nothing”. Yet, after a bandit attack leaves them orphaned it is the boy who is unable to recover while the girl refuses to succumb to despair. After his death, the girl claims his name and fate. The ‘new’ Zhu Chongba refuses to accept her former fate and will do whatever it takes not only to survive but thrive. Zhu goes on to become a novice at the Wuhuang Monastery, and as the years go by the more her conviction that she will be great is cemented.
When the unrest against Mongol rule grows Zhu, now a monk, joins forces with the Red Turbans, a group of peasant rebels. In her ruthless quest for greatness, Zhu will stop at nothing. Driven by the certainty that she will be great, Zhu slowly rises among the ranks of rebels, demonstrating time and again that to win a war one needs more than swordsmanship or physical strength. The more powerful Zhu becomes the more she craves, but how far is too far?
We also follow Ouyang, a eunuch of Nanren blood, formerly a slave and now a general in the Mongol army (the people responsible for exterminating his family and enslaving him). Ouyang too is following what he believes to be his fate, even if he knows that this path will lead in pain (my pain, Parker-Chan, if you are reading this you broke my effin heart).
As the narrative progresses, Zhu and Ouyang’s fate become irrevocably and terribly entwined. One is hungry for greatness, the other, revenge.

She Who Became the Sun is an epic historical fantasy and probably one of the best debut novels I’ve ever read. While I was not familiar with this era/setting (predictably, the little I knew about Mongolia concerns ‘the’ Genghis Khan, aka Temüjin, and I knew next-to-nothing about 14th century China—I love wuxia films but they are not entirely reliable) Parker-Chan does a fantastic job in immersing her readers in this period of Mongolian/Chinese history. In that way, she brought to mind Renault who also excelled in evoking ancient cultures and peoples without making her readers feel overwhelmed or confused.
Parker-Chan does not shy away from portraying the grim realities faced by people like Zhu and Ouyang. In addition to famines and plagues, we have battles between Mongols and the Red Turbans who seek to free themselves from their cruel rule. Rather than portraying either faction as inherently good or bad, Parker-Chan populates her story with characters who are all varying degrees of terrible (Ma, daughter to a Red Turban general, and Xu Da, Zhu’s monastery ‘brother’ are perhaps the only not-so-morally ambiguous characters).
Zhu and Ouyang are no heroes. They are, to different extents and purposes, self-serving, and willing to commit acts of horrific violence to fulfil their fates (even if it means betraying their loved ones). Yet, given what we learn about them, in other words, their circumstances, readers will have a hard time condemning or judging them.

Parker-Chan’s unadorned prose perfectly complements the severe world inhabited by Zho and Ouyang. For all its apparent simplicity, Parker-Chan’s writing packs a punch. We have emotionally charged dialogues, precise and clever descriptions about the characters (their motivations, fears, natures), and some fantastic fighting sequences. It just goes to show how talented a writer Parker-Chan is but I was gripped by scenes focusing on military strategy (something I am not usually all that wowed by). There are also surprising moments of humor that offer brief yet desperately needed moments of levity (Zhu’s ‘pious’ act was a delight to read). The narrative is otherwise fraught with tension. The fantasy elements were also very well-done. Although they are seamlessly incorporated into the historical backdrop they did add a certain atmosphere to the story.
In addition to a gripping storyline and a detailed historical setting Parker-Chan also brings to the table a complex cast of characters. Their shifting allegiances and dynamics made the story all the more captivating. Zhu is no hero(ine). She is hellbent on getting what she wants (greatness) and while she isn’t wholly morally reprehensible she is not afraid to get her hands dirty. Her relationship with Xu Da and Ma were wonderfully compelling, even heart-rendering.

Aaaand, now I have to talk about Ouyang and I cannot even. Dio mio. This man is terrible but that did not stop me from loving him. I swear, I felt ‘all the feels’ each scene he was in. The man is literally haunted. His tortured self-loathing reaches highs not even Adam Parrish would dream of. My heart broke for him, time and again. His storyline managed to be even more devastating than Zhu’s one. I am never going to shut up about him. Just thinking about him makes me wanna curl in a ball and cry.

At its heart, Parker-Chan’s novel is about power, survival, and fate. Parker-Chan pushes Zhu and Ouyang to their limits, putting them in impossible situations and pitting them against each other (we have more than one scene where I could not for the life of me root for either Zhu and Ouyang, hoping against hope that they could just set their weapons aside and become best buds…I am delusional I know). In addition, Parker-Chan subverts traditional gender roles and notions of masculinity and gifts us with an A+ queer romance and a complicated relationship with a lot of yearning (when their hands brushed I was a goner).

It took me 40 pages or so to really get into the story but once I was ‘in’ I was 100% invested in both the story and the characters. This novel is gripping, brutal, poignant, distressing and full of jaw-dropping moments. The betrayals and political intrigue made the novel all the more engrossing. I don’t often use the word epic to describe a novel but She Who Became the Sun demands it.

ps : i am both terrified and desperate to read the sequel

ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

my rating: ★★★★★

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The Girl in The Tower by Katherine Arden

A very underwhelming follow up to the both magical and interesting The Bear and the Nightingale. The Girl in the Tower shares little with its predecessor. Yes, Arden’s writing style in undoubtedly gorgeous, made up by pretty phrases and vibrant descriptions. But, it didn’t make up for a slow story, one that involves a silly and overused plot-line as well as offering one-dimensional characters. What happened to the complex themes of the first novel? The tension between different believes? And Vasya’s own inner struggle? This sequel just abandons those elements which made the original story so intriguing. The plot revolves around the ‘gender-bender’ trope: Vasya dresses as a boy, many pages are wasted on her fearing to be discovered, as well as ‘near-discoveries’, and the final ‘reveal’. And Vasya…well. She was a rebel for the sake of being a rebel. There was nothing deep to her and or her behaviour. She becomes an exaggerated version of herself: certain aspects of her character take over completely and rendering her somewhat ridiculous. She was irksome and forgetful. Her ‘sort of romance’ with Morozko felt forced and ended up seeming like any other YA romance. Their scenes were eye-roll worthy. Vasya’s siblings act in such a predictable way that made most of their interactions forgetful.
The magic from The Bear and the Nightingale. The Girl in the Tower might be written in an enchanting style but it only offers an array of clichés. The uniqueness is gone. We are left with a dull novel that is set in an oversimplified Russia. Vasya’s ‘specialness’ is the limelight of the story and I did not care for it.
I was hoping that Arden had written something as compelling as The Bear and the Nightingale but…not in this case.

My rating: 3 stars

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The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

“They dare not follow, thought Vasya. They fear the forest after dark. And then, darkly: They are wise.”

The Bear and The Nightingale is an enchanting tale imbued with Russian folklore and traditions. Arden has crafted a story that abounds with fantastical creatures and mystical prophecies that will entice the reader from the very first pages:

“In Russian, Frost was called Morozko, the demon of winter. But long ago, the people called him Karachun, the death-god. Under that name, he was king of black midwinter who came for bad children and froze them in night. It was an ill-omened word, and unlucky to speak it while he still held the land in his grip.”

Set in a vividly rendered feudal Russia, The Bear and The Nightingale follows Vasilisa Petrovna the youngest child of a wealthy boyar, Pyotr Vladimirovich, in the north of Russia, who is predestined to be the heir of old magic. Vasilisa, who can see the spirits and creatures that crowd her house and neighbouring forest, grows into an untamed and fierce child feared by the villagers and loathed by her step-mother Anna, who is also able to see magical beings. Unlike her step-daughter, however, Anna fears these creatures and it is her religious zeal that will bring a new priest into the Vladimirovich household, Father Konstantin, who sees it as his duty to eradicate the locals paganistic customs. The strain generated by the clash of these diverse beliefs soon spirals out of control forcing Vasilisa into action.

Arden has created an endearing protagonist: Vasilisa’s resilience and bravery are shown throughout the novel. She will fight for her own freedom and to protect the ones around her. There is a focus on her struggle against the restrictions given by her gender, as well as, on the tension between duty and choice. Her relationship with her family is another vital aspect of her story, especially the bond she shares with her older brother Alyosha and her younger half-sister Irina. Arden depicts a realistic family portrait which sees a well-meaning father, a brusque yet kind grandmotherly nurse and a few protective older brothers who like teasing each other.

These interesting and relatable characters feature in a tangible medieval setting that is enriched by Arden’s graceful descriptions. Her expressive and poetical rendition of an unforgiving yet tantalizing landscape bring into being an incredibly atmospheric tale. Her lyrical prose and beautiful allegories, such as “the years slipped by like leaves,” and “the clouds lay like wet wool above trees”, are in resonance with her richly evocative world. The author has painted an immersive and magical tale redolent of old lore and populated by poignant characters. The Bear and The Nightingale is a lavishly written and alluring fairytale that entwines traditional motifs of the genre with an original and fascinating storyline.

I would definitely recommend this to fans of The Night Circus or The Golem and the Jinni which also combine accurate historical setting with the otherworldly. Or if you particularly enjoy fairy-tale-esque stories I would suggest writers such as Catherynne M. Valente – author of Deathless and The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making – and Kate Forsyth. The clash between pagan traditions and non reminded me of The Witches of New York.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

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