I would like to say, with complete honesty, that I wish I had never read this. That I wish I had ignored the hype, that I had just carried on with my daily life, continuing to read the YA Fantasy bullshit I keep picking up nowadays.
But that wouldn’t be right. That wouldn’t be fair to Rebecca Kuang and her need to tell this story, and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to the thousands and millions of Chinese people that died during the Nanjing Massacre.
There’s so much weight that comes from reading a book like this. I guess the main thing I should warn anyone before starting this book is that you should prepare yourself. Prepare to be a little broken afterward. Prepare your heart to weigh ten million pounds, and prepare for it to remain that way for a couple of days. I'll admit that reading isn’t always fun, it isn't always entertainment, it isn't always joy. But there are books that inform, that teach you things worth knowing, and that may hurt you a little afterward, to be reminded that sometimes the world isn't always beautiful. And after reading this book, you’ll need something lighter, you'll need to read something that clears your heart. Just to remind yourself that although life can be a terrible burden sometimes, it can also be lovely, and we can't forget that.
In this book, it’s easy to understand the heartbreak and pain and suffering and tragedy. And no matter how heartbreaking this was for me, I would read it over and over and over again. I would put myself through the same heartache, because—that pain I felt? It was worth it. A million times over. It’s worth feeling that way because now, with this book, even though I’m scarred and I'll probably never be the same, I’m walking away from it with something I didn’t have before: knowledge. I can take this knowledge and I can do something with it. I can remember it, and remembering the pain of the past, it's enough. I promise you, it's enough.
I’m not the same girl I was when I started this book. I’m not the same person that reached the ending. And despite everything that has happened, I think that’s a good thing. I think that, even though I’ll never be the same, at least I know now. At least I know how people once lived, how people might still be living, and how people might live one day. It’s a fucking terrifying thing, war. To live through it. To die. To survive.
Something that’s even scarier? Grief. That clawing feeling in the back of your throat, the center of your heart, dragging it’s fingers down your chest. Through your chest. That feeling that doesn't let you forget. That never-ending feeling of being pushed down a hole where you just keep falling and you can’t catch hold of anything because the world is spinning and you just want to die, honestly, and really, what’s the point in anything anymore? You’ve lost everything. And you just don’t care anymore. You’d rather die because it’s easier. And it's so fucking easy to pass your pain to someone else. To have someone else take care of you, to have someone else take the responsibility.
And I think that’s why I admire Rin so much. There was a clear line drawn down the middle of the novel; she was one way for the first half of the novel, and suddenly, she was wearing someone else’s skin. And you might ask how. You might say that Rin is not a well-developed character.
But I disagree. I think Rin’s character was brilliant. Sometimes, when you’re living life, and suddenly everything starts to happen and you’re forced to grow up and take on responsibilities you aren't ready for, then of course you’ll change. You’ll start changing a little every day, small pieces of yourself, so slow and silent that you won’t even notice it. Not until it’s too late.
For Rin, it was too late. When she finally noticed, the damage was done, and she isn't the same. She never will be.
I think this book is brilliant—and not just because of the plot and the characters and the way everything played out. I think it was brilliant because it portrayed war perfectly. The main character loses people she never thought she’d lose, she loses parts of herself she thought she’d always have. But war is like that (not that I would know). War takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left (note the Hamilton reference eheh). And you won’t notice the damage until all the glass is broken at your feet. Until all the ashes have all settled for you to realize how much destruction is left.
I think Rin is a beautiful character—and it’s not just because of her stubbornness and sheer bravery. But I think she’s beautiful because she wears her suffering so well. She does not cry, she does not weep because of someone else’s actions (in this case, the Federation’s). She stands up, wipes her tears, mends her broken heart and says, You fuck with me and I won’t forget you. You fuck with me or my friends and you’re dead.
Revenge is a dangerous, terrifying thing, because it consumes you. It consumes you wholly, and it doesn’t let go until it’s taken everything. Until you’re burned out and you have nothing left. For Rin it is fuel, a way to repay all those who ever took from her. And for everything they took, she will take more, and she will keep taking more, until they have nothing left. Until there is nothing left.
The deaths that occurred in the book? Yes, I think they were necessary. The death that hurt the most was definitely (view spoiler). But they was necessary, and although they hurt like nothing ever before, I think they teach you a valuable lesson about war. We don’t have a choice in who we want to keep beside us. We don’t have a choice in who we want to stay. Life throws you experiences and expects you to learn from them because that’s life. It’s beautiful. It’s ruthless. It’s terrifying. But somehow—underneath all that bullshit—it’s worth it.
I think that Rin is a result. She is an innocent who has been sharpened into a blade, a girl that has become a warrior because that is what the world requires from her, that is what the world wants from her. And despite what the Phoenix god told her, I don’t think she had much of a choice. I think sometimes things are meant to be and you just have to do the best you can. Rin made the choice she thought she was best, or maybe, she knew it wasn’t the best choice, but she did it anyway because she is young and she is angry and she doesn’t know how else to lash out with her anger. She is not like Altan, who suffers in silence and bottles up his anger. Rin lashes out with hers. And that’s why certain things happened in the book. Because she had no other way of expressing that rage.
The reason why I admire Rin the most is because she could’ve chosen to run. There were so many times she could have chosen to back down and hand the burden of war to someone else. Yet each time, she stood up. And she took those burdens for herself. And she put them on her back. And she razed the world with them. And I think that is so brave, and so beautiful, and so courageous, no matter what anyone says. No matter the sacrifices, I think it was so brave of her to take on that amount of responsibility.
While I was reading the book, I remember jotting down a couple of things I wanted to talk about in my review. I was going to talk about RF Kuang’s unique writing voice, the humor and tone, the apprentice/student relationships. And I was going to rant about how much I loved all of that. I was going to talk about how I loved that there was no romance (or very little romance). But this review I’m currently writing has gotten me completely off guard. But I honestly think that’s when you know you’ve got a really special book in your hands: when it catches you completely by surprise.
I didn’t see the ending coming. I felt the transition from the beginning to the middle, and the middle to the end. But I didn’t know it was going to be so brutal. And despite how scarred I am, despite how broken I am, I’m still grateful that I got myself to read it, and to push through it. I’m so grateful there’s a book like this to tell these truths.