I finished reading The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang recently. For those who are unaware, it’s a grimdark fantasy tale that pulls a lot of its material from China’s past several hundred years or so of history, in particular the Sino-Japanese conflicts and the Opium Wars. It is dark, with the depicted events all the more disturbing for their grounding in real world happenings. Of course, it being a fantasy tale, it pulls in non-historical concepts too. There are those in this novel’s world with shamanistic magical powers that range from turning into a fox, to becoming a maniacal ape-like warrior harnessing the powers of the Monkey King. Of particular import are a race of people known as Speerlies who can summon the fire of their god, the Phoenix, when in the correct mind-state. Talking about mind-state, psychedelic drugs play a significant role for all the shamans. But, before that, let’s get back to the real world history for a bit.
First off, I’m very much a white dude. I grew up in southern Indiana, and my pale skin fears the burning heat of the sun almost as much as the midwestern American palate fears spice. I rebelled on both those fronts, resulting in many sunburn-adjacent tans and a gradual spice tolerance built from tear-inducing meals. When it comes to Chinese history however, I think my knowledge there is different than my childhood background might initially make it seem. Namely, I minored in Mandarin in my undergraduate studies and studied abroad at Shanghai Jiao Tong for a semester. In that time, I developed a fondness for that area of the world that has led to many subsequent trips over the years. As a result, while I’m certainly no expert, many of the historical events that informed this novel were familiar to me beforehand, along with some understanding of China’s dynastic and post-dynastic history. I knew of the unspeakable atrocities committed at the Rape of Nanjing by the Japanese army in 1937/38: the wanton murder and the rape of innocents, the competitions among the Japanese soldiers to see who could kill more helpless people, the sadistic torture and truly inhuman acts of violence. Just to give a further example of how bad it was, a German member of the Nazi party by the name of John Rabe is credited with saving many civilian lives through the establishment of a safe zone. I had also read of the Opium Wars in the 1800s in which Western powers extracted several rather unequal treaties over the right to trade addictive Opium into the country. On a more recent historical front, I’d also read of Mao Zedong’s so-called ‘Great Leap Forward’ that caused one of the greatest famines in human history, resulting in the death of millions.
Suffice to say, there is a lot of historically-inspired human suffering in this fantasy tale. At times, especially with respect to the Rape of Nanjing, this novel pulls its descriptions almost straight from the history books. Reading some of this was … hard, and all the more so knowing a corollary event actually happened. This book takes these real events and puts a fantastical spin on them with one question at the fore: why? This book is nothing if not an attempt to understand how a human being can rationalize such evil acts, on how one might abhor such things only to then commit similar acts themselves, whether for power or vengeance. It tells how violence, even when done in the name of justice, still begets violence. Of sunk cost fallacies and broken descents into madness even while clambering to escape. Of choice and consequence.
So, would I recommend this book? Well, it depends on your taste. If you like grimdark fantasy and have an interest in Chinese history, I would say give it a read. For me, I’ve found grimdark can be hit or miss. I don’t typically go to novels to be smacked in the face by descriptions of the evils of this world. I see enough of that already in the news. I like having people I can root for. Call it sentimental, but I like having a hero or heroine save the day. Don’t get me wrong, I want complexity and moral ambiguity, but still, I often go to novels for a coherence and meaning that the real world so often lacks. That being said, I do also think the message of this novel to be an incredibly important one. And so, I am at odds with myself. On a more technical level, I thought the writing was good but not always necessarily my cup of tea. Sentence structure at times struck me as odd. And while the fantastical depictions of real life events were incredibly powerful, the plot did feel at times beholden to history in a way I wasn’t used to for a fantasy novel. As a result, I return to my earlier comment. If you like grimdark fantasy and have an interest in Chinese history, give it a read.
All the best,
M. Weald
M. Weald 