A Quick Note On This Review: This article includes affiliate links to Bookshop.org as a way of supporting both local bookshops and my own ability to write.
Rin, a war orphan under the care of opium-selling foster parents, doesn’t want to be a part of the arranged marriage they plan for her, and so she takes the Keju, an assessment of students’ ability to succeed at one of the major colleges of the Nikan empire. To the surprise of everyone — including Rin — she place at the top and earns a seat at the premier Imperial military academy at Sinegard, the capital city located in the north. Though she escapes the arranged marriage, Rin faces discrimination from her classmates and teachers, bullying from Nezha — the son of a ruling Nikan Warlard — and eventually the challenges of Shamanism when Rin shows a propensity for calling down the power of the Phoenix god. Of course, those troubles fall to the wayside when the Mugen Federation invades, forcing Rin to leverage everything she learned at Sinegard and the power of the Phoenix to protect everything she loves.
The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang is the first book of the Poppy War Trilogy, and though it starts out with the trappings of the typical story about an underdog coming out on top, Kuang takes the story in an entirely different direction than the typical stories about finding oneself in school and going into the world to achieve fantastic things. Rin is an exceptional character in her portrayal and capabilities, but rather than making her this overwhelming force of accomplishment, Kuang instead introduces flaws that undermine Rin’s ability to achieve her true potential. She could be a devastating force on the battlefild, but Rin’s self-doubt, disregard of military decorum, and selfishness make it so that any role she does play in serving as a soldier is more a function of chance rather than a true reflection of her ability to perform her duties.
Taken alongside the plot and other characters of The Poppy War, Rin serves as a meditation on the many ways that a flawed individual who had little direct influence over historical events can shape the narrative to suit their own self-image. Kuang does a phenomenal job of walking the line of portraying Rin as an empathetic character and someone who is playing at a role without actually possessing the qualities that are necessary to embody it. The result is an understanding that the stories we tell ourselves about the world, societal causes, and even ourselves may not be as accurate as we would like, and we may not even realize it.
For casual readers, The Poppy War is a great read if you enjoy high fantasy stories that have some grounding in the dark realities of everyday life. Shamanism, the empires discussed, and other elements of the story may be fictitious, but Kuang’s expertise in Chinese History and East Asian Languages and Literature enables her to ground each fantasy detail in a real-world counterpart. This enables Kuang to build a world that’s simultaneously fantastic, believable, and just as terrifying as the real one.
For writers, The Poppy War can help hone world building technique by showing you how to leverage historical details and myths in your works. While it may not have been entirely intentional, Kuang’s portrayal of Rin could be instructive for writers interested in creating elements of dark satire, since Rin’s development is such that it would be almost humorous, if not for the macabre, wartime environment in which she must operate.
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What’s Next?
I am an avid reader and have quite a few thoughts on how some books could benefit both people that want to be entertained and those looking to sharpen their literary skills.
If you’re interested in finding out more about what I’ve been reading – and how it could benefit you – I will be publishing those thoughts on Fridays on a weekly basis. Check back next week for a discussion of Alix E. Harrow’s The Ten Thousand Doors of January!
The Writerly Review 