THE POPPY WAR: BOOK REVIEW
Entrenched in tales set in Western medieval worlds, the fantasy genre can often feel like a monolith for those who have not actively sought out more diverse stories. However, this has started to shift in recent years, as both the industry and the genre have started to devote more attention to new and varied voices. I have been an avid fantasy reader for years, but I started growing weary of stories about small-town farm boys turned heroes, prophesied to save the world from a great and somewhat nebulous evil. Though it’s a trope that has worked well for the genre in the past, it’s never quite resonated with me or introduced me to new perspectives in the way that more recent fantasy novels have. R.F. Kuang’s The Poppy War is one of them. The 2018 novel has been one of the most popular to break the typical fantasy mold and has brought something new and refreshing to the genre. Set in a world inspired by 20th century China, The Poppy War is a brilliant and brutal tale of war and magic, one that builds a world both mesmerizingly different and unsettlingly similar to our own.
The story follows Fang Runin (known simply as Rin), an orphaned girl from a small farming province in the Nikara Empire, who is desperate to escape the path set out for her. When she aces the Keju, an Empire-wide academic exam, she finds herself enrolled in Sinegard Academy, an elite military school in one of the wealthiest areas of the Empire. Nothing in school comes easy for Rin — her wealthy Sinegard-raised classmates ridicule her for her lack of formal education, southern accent, and darker skin — but she’s determined, and her hard work allows her to surpass many in her class. As she delves deeper into the ancient history of her home, she begins to learn more about the art of shamanism, a form of magic in which humans can become conduits of the gods. However, being a shaman comes with incredible risks: those who call upon a god’s power usually end up losing control of their mind and soul, driven mad by divine power.
Rin’s time at the Academy is cut short by the outbreak of war, the third in Nikan’s recent history, and Rin ends up being sent to a small but specialized military unit of other shamans who are called upon by the Empire to carry out only the most high-stakes missions. While the first half of the book takes place in a school, the second half is set entirely on the frontlines of war, and the novel takes a much darker turn from a story about knowledge and academia to a story about violence and survival.
Kuang’s writing is a masterclass in both characterization and world-building. Each character is undoubtedly distinct, and Kuang excels at crafting unique voices and personalities using only a few sentences. Since Rin’s perspective is the only one readers get, much is revealed through dialogue and scenic descriptions, but this is done so expertly that even characters with little page time feel fully realized. Interpersonal character dynamics steal the show, as none feel like cliché tropes. Rin’s relationships with her best friend, mentor, and even rival, challenge and antagonize the protagonist in ways that alter the course of the story and shape Rin’s own behaviors.
The history of Nikan and the other nations it crosses — namely the Federation of Mugen, a fantasy spin-off of Japan, and Hesperia, a Western colonial power (likely a combination of America and Great Britain) — is rich and fascinating. It’s clear that much of it is inspired by real-world people and events, as one of the texts Rin studies at school, Sunzi’s Principles of War, is clearly meant to reference Sun Tzu’s Art of War. These calls to real-world texts make Nikan and its history feel more concrete, as it compels readers to step away from the predominantly Western and white narratives within fantasy and consider new perspectives. By examining history, the series — even more so in books two and three — also forces readers to think more critically about Western imperialism and its devastating impacts.
The Poppy War is possibly the most brutal fantasy novel I’ve encountered. Kuang does not shy away from depicting the violent horrors of both war and colonialism, especially in the second half of the book, when the Third Poppy War ensues. Taking inspiration from the Second Sino-Japanese War and the Rape of Nanjing, the depictions of war are horrific, and the book is described as “grimdark” for a reason.
Even Rin herself is not a typical fantasy heroine. Most characters pitched as morally-gray like Rin tend to fall into the trope of “asshole with a heart of gold,” but Rin evades the trope entirely. Her heart is made of fire, and it burns those around her. She is power-hungry and angry and unflinching in her cruelty, but she’s also intensely loyal and often sympathetic. Even in her darkest moments, it’s hard not to root for her, because Kuang excels at putting readers inside Rin’s head and making her decisions feel rational (at least until the end). Although Rin sometimes makes decisions out of anger, it stems from her increasingly horrific circumstances, and Rin is an incredibly compelling and powerful character because of it.
That’s not to say Rin is right or even morally upstanding. Arguably, that’s not even the point. The greater takeaway is the way in which war, imperialism, and colonization perpetuate systems of violence and oppression, not who is “right” and “wrong.” No one is, and the truest “villains” of the story are societal forces more than anything else.
This is partially what separates The Poppy War from other fantasy novels: the “big bad evil guy” isn’t a person at all. There is no shortage of truly awful forces and people in Rin’s story, but it’s hard to say who the real villain is because everyone is forced to make less-than-ideal choices in the face of horrible conditions. There is no great moralizing force and no prophesied “Chosen One” tasked with saving the world from all evil. The story stays away from the “good” and “evil” binary often upheld in fantasy novels. And though Rin is a “Chosen One” of sorts (the Phoenix god did technically choose her as his conduit), she is not tasked with saving the world. She simply acts out of a desire to save her friends, and her country if at all possible.
The Poppy War is by no means an uplifting book. It deals with very heavy topics and depicts violence in gruesome, detailed ways. But Kuang’s skill for bringing characters to life, for creating a world that feels both tangible and magical at the same time, makes it a worthy read for even those who have never delved into fantasy before.