In an exciting and fresh new historical fantasy debut, after an orphaned young girl is told that she is destined for nothingness by a fortune teller, she instead takes the fate of greatness that was meant for her deceased twin brother. Pretending to be a boy, the peasant girl Zhu becomes a monk, a soldier, and eventually a general in her quest to seize greatness and wrest control of ancient China from the Mongol Empire.

Besides being a gripping feminist reimagining of Chinese history, the novel employs a refreshingly original magic system that is tied in with Chinese beliefs and historical facts. In an fascinating twist, the concept of the ‘mandate of heaven’ that defined who had the right to rule in historical ancient China becomes an actual flame that the chosen few can summon. The characters are complex and layered, especially Zhu, with robust queer representation and exploration of gender beyond the binary. Parker-Chan deftly explores what someone will do to survive, whether that is to compromise their values or even kill in cold blood, which is also tied in with the lure of power and womanhood in ancient China. The concept of immutable fate is central to the story – and in less-skilled hands could be boring – but Parker-Chan plays with the uncertainty of how Zhu’s fate will be achieved, and for how long she will keep the greatness she is promised. This is a top-notch historical fantasy novel (and the first installment of a duology) with a complicated, ruthless female lead – for anyone who enjoyed And I Darken by Kiersten White.

This was billed as Mulan-meets–Song of Achilles and that’s not far off. It’s a gender-swapped/genderqueer retelling of how China’s Ming dynasty was founded. The heroine—who doesn’t see herself as male or female but for whom the author uses she/her pronouns—takes every challenge she encounters as a girl (i.e., a waste of space) and then a young woman masquerading as a man in the 14th century and turns them to her advantage. Her cleverness and resiliency are so refreshing for a historical novel, where women are so often written as having little agency. I read this almost in one sitting and get antsy thinking about the wait for the sequel. This book is the first in a series, taking us from 1345 to 1356, when Zhu is about 21. The Ming dynasty was founded in 1368 and Zhu ruled for 30 years, so I’m guessing this series will be at least a trilogy even if the author stops around the time Zhu becomes emperor. Can’t wait to read more from this new author, both in this series and whatever else she comes up with!

First I would like to thank NetGalley for sending me this Earc!

True rating 3.5✨

This started off really strong. Zhu was a super interesting character and I loved the Mulan retelling aspect of it. It was very clear.

Zhu is able to see ghosts. But we never learn why or how and the ghosts don't play any major parts or have many appearances throughout the book. This was a disappointment.

Zhu's transition from viewing herself as a girl to viewing herself as a boy to viewing herself as just a being was probably the best part of this book. I really liked how the author incorporated LGBTQ+ into the book. It was very well done and I enjoyed it a lot. We got a spicy scene that was a little random but it was a bonus I wasn't expecting.

There was some cursing in this book and it felt forced and not natural. The magic system where some characters had a flame/light - just wasn't explained. (As to why we could see ghosts... was also not explained).

The transition into Ouyang's point of view was very abrupt and I felt it disrupted the pace and story line. If we had seen his POV in part one it would have meshed better. His story is just dreadful. I was disappointed in the path his story took. I feel like there was potential with Esen. Plus, I just don't like sad endings.

Now one bonus for this book is it is FILLED with amazing quotes. It is a lyrical book (which is not my go to style) but I felt like every few chapters I was writing down a quote.

By the end Zhu is no longer just surviving. But now that she has more than she ever could have imagined she has become selfish and is willing to let her loved ones suffer just to get what she wants and I simply do not like that. I also feel like she didn't do THAT many or THAT amazing things to get to where she wanted to be. She often seemed lucky and things were a little too convenient for me.

There was also a part where Zhu and Xu Da (who is my favorite character) are about to go into a battle. They sit and talk about it AND THEN WE DON'T EVEN GET THE DETAILS OF THE BATTLE. How boring.

Overall, I enjoyed the book. However, it is not my favorite and I do not see myself reading it again.

I can’t even begin to describe what kind of book She Who Became the Sun is. All I can say is it drew me into the story, kept me glued to the page for hours on end, and then gutted and devastated me by the end of it. This debut novel is going to be the book of 2021, I’m calling it now.

The novel, inspired by the life of the founder of the Ming dynasty, follows a nameless girl, growing up in a tiny, famine-stricken village that has already claimed the lives of her mother and grandparents. She lives there with her father and older brother, Zhu Chongba — a brother whose future is read and said to hold a great destiny, while hers is to become nothing. But then, her father dies in a bandit attack and her brother not long after him, destroying any hope of a so-called destiny. Left alone, the girl almost succumbs but finds within her the strength to continue living as she travels to a nearby monastery and begs to become a student. There, she becomes Zhu Chongba, stealing her brother’s identity. Zhu does whatever it takes to survive in the monastery, and does so for many years, but when it’s burned down for not supporting Mongol rule, Zhu uses the chance she has been given to steal her brother’s destiny as well.

How do I explain the experience that is Zhu Chongba? She is so ambitious and purposeful, but so cheeky and sweet as well. As we read her time in the monastery, you can’t help but adore her: from her fear of being discovered as a woman at any moment, to her quick thinking skills to trick her teachers, to the friendships that she makes. And when she becomes a travelling monk, you start to love her even more. This is where she becomes consumed with the idea of becoming great and wanting to ensure that, centuries from now, they remember her name. Her ambition is intense and paralleled perfectly to the other main character of this novel.

If you, like me, love villainous characters who stop at nothing to achieve their goals, then you’re going to love Ouyang, the general of the Mongolian army. Ouyang was once the eldest son of a predominant noble family, but when the Mongolian army moved in, his entire family was massacred, and Ouyang was kidnapped by the royal family, castrated and then forced into slavery. Prince Esen, the heir to the Mongol throne, becomes close with Ouyang, training together as boys and then naming Ouyang his general. Ouyang already has a devastating reputation as Esen’s feared eunuch general and when he and Zhu meet, Zhu can’t help but feel like she is connected to him somehow.

Zhu and Ouyang have many similarities between them although they are on opposite sides of the brewing war: they both have great destinies, they both feel they need to prove themselves, and they both present their genders in non-typical ways. Even though they become enemies, you can’t help but root for both of them. When Zhu is attempting to climb in social status, I was fully supporting her. And when Ouyang is attempting to get revenge on the people who destroyed his life, I was also on his side! Parker-Chan is a phenomenal writer to put the reader in such a position where they’re rooting for both sides, even though you know the outcome will end in tragedy. Both Zhu and Ouyang are working towards their own individual goals, their destinies are somehow linked and I can’t wait to find out more in the sequel.

While the novel’s plot focuses on Zhu’s physical journey from a girl with nothing to greatness, the book also focuses on Zhu’s journey to understanding her gender identity. Zhu doesn’t just pretend to be her brother to ensure she survives: she becomes him, as she doesn’t want Heaven to strike her down for lying and stealing. So the way she ensures her safety is by living her life as a man, although she uses she/her pronouns for herself (which is why I’m using them too) while everyone else uses he/him. Zhu acknowledges many times that she doesn’t feel comfortable as a woman, and I felt so connected to her slowly coming to understand herself as genderqueer (although she doesn’t use that exact word). I was able to resonate strongly with this as a genderqueer person myself, and I believe Parker-Chan also identifies as genderqueer. So you can be sure you’re going to find amazing gender representation in She Who Became the Sun!

She Who Became the Sun is a book you’re not going to be forgetting for a long, long time. You’ve probably heard this book labeled as Mulan meets The Song of Achilles so for those who are wondering, yes, I can definitely see that comparison. But when they say The Song of Achilles, they mean it. Don’t go into this book feeling connected to any characters. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Wow this book. was so well done! I loved the grit and determination of the main character and how far will power took her. I can't wait to read more from this author!
Thank you to netgalley and the publishers for providing me with an arc for an honest review.

This was a great book. Set in China under Mongol rule, famine is rampant. One family has a son, Zhu, that is given the destiny of greatness, something unheard of in a peasant family. And their daughter was given the destiny of nothing. When bandits take the last that the family owns, Zhu dies. Instead of succumbing to the same fate, the daughter takes on her brother’s identity and goes to join the monastery Zhu was promised to. We then follow her/him as she continues to grow and try and embrace Zhu’s fate of greatness as her own, no matter what it takes. This book tackles some pretty heavy topics like gender identity, fate/destiny, war and exploring if the ends justify the means. The characters are complex, the plot is fast moving and the twists and turns will keep you reading. As you can imagine, this is a heavy and dark book, but still fantastic.

“She couldn’t understand how someone could want anything so much that she would face the impossible for it.”
•
Once upon a time there was a girl whose fate was nothingness, but this girl has such a strong will and such a desire to count in this life that she takes her brother’s identity and his fate of greatness. Especially at the beginning this book reminded me so much of the Poppy War. Both Rin and Zhu are determined to become great, to be remembered and they are ready to do anything it takes to reach their goal. I admire Zhu very much, even the fact that she is able to inspire other girls to take want they want. She is convinced that nobody can tell you what you should be and that life is to short to live just to obey. In parallel, we follow the story of Zhu’s enemy: the eunuch Ouyang. I must admit I haven’t found his chapters as interesting as Zhu’s but his, too, is a story of betrayal, sorrow and revenge. Through his point of view we can see how sometimes life takes you to a path you don’t want to travel, but you may have no other choice.. and even if it hurts, you must do everything to honor your name and your family. Thank to the publisher and NetGalley for the earc.

Lady Rui’s jaw was tight with the same intensity Zhu had glimpsed earlier: a compressed rage that had at its heart the female desire to survive all that sought to make her nothing.

Zhu was born in a small, drought- and famine-stricken village. Her mother and siblings dead, save for her elder brother, the double eight Zhu Chongba, and her brother. The soothsayer gives her father his children’s fates: greatness for Zhu Chongba, nothing for the girl. But after a bandit raid takes their father, Zhu Chongba stares his destiny in the face and…dies. Leaving the girl with nothing except her ambition to become more. So she takes her brother’s name and goes into the world seeking his fate.

There are no kind solutions to cruel situations.

How do I begin to sum up this brilliant book?

Firstly, with the thought that as hyped as it was, I almost DNF’d due to the writing style in the beginning. It was too fable-y, too formal/stilted, but thankfully I pressed and either I grew used to the writing or it became looser, because I fell into the prose and the story.

This is the third book in the 2021 Adult Fantasy Sapphic Trifecta (a term coined by Your Tita Kate), and like the other two in the trifecta (The Unbroken by CL Clark and The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri), this was a brilliant feminist and sapphic story dealing with misogyny, colonialism and strength with a dash of magic. And this this one, there are two puns in the title, one of which I caught right away (due to the magic), the other which took me until I saw a twitter post and was like I don’t get it and then was like


If you’re still in the dark, like I was: Zhu literally becomes Zhu Chongba, the son
I didn’t mean to be cruel…But I want what I want, and sometimes I’m going to have to do certain things to get it.

I really, really liked that Parker-Chen had no compunctions in toning down the characters to be likable or whatever. Each character—save one, and even she sacrifices some of her morales—does what they believe needs to be done to survive. In Zhu’s case, it means doing whatever it takes to not just survive but thrive—from her time in the monastery to the battlefield to rising through the ranks of a fractious rebel force. Because her people are at war with the Mongol conquerers, and with themselves.

In case you hadn’t realized, I’m going to horrifically botch this review. There are so many things to say, so I’m going to say some of them poorly and not try to bother with the rest.

There’s a huge cast of characters and POVs, most important of which is the eunuch Ouyang, the Mongolian general introduced as Zhu’s foil—one a literal nothing pretending to be a man, the other a man reduced to something less in the eyes of men, both striving for something outside themselves.

While Zhu’s story was fascinating because of her ruthlessness and brilliance (I did like that she wasn’t clueless in running an army or dealing with politics—she’d been taught for several years by the Abbot, a wily and pragmatic man who saw the same things in Zhu as he did in himself—and she took those skills and honed them to a fine point), I was drawn to Ouyang’s story. His own fascination towards his lord, Esen, the brilliant and shining son of the prince of their province, and his strained rivalry with Esen’s adopted brother, Lord Wang.

There is a quality of jealousy that you could only feel it for people who were like you. Ouyang could no more be jealous of Esen than he could be of the sun. But Ouyang and Lord Wang were alike. For a moment they stood there in bitter acknowledgment of it, feeling that likeness ringing through the space between them. The one reviled for not being a man, the other for not acting like one.

I loved how the concept of manhood and manliness was portrayed, both with the rebels and the Mongols. Zhu skirts many of the conventions of manhood through being a monk (although there are exceptions, proven with her womanizing friend Xu Da), but Ouyang and Lord Wang are each invested in the trappings of imperial manhood. As a eunuch, Ouyang is forever an outsider, always reminded of the horrors he faced at the hands of Esen’s father. No matter how many battles he wins, how well he fights, how austere he lives, he will never be enough. Which rankles him that Lord Wang has all of the ability of being an actual man (read: a manly man who fights and brawls and does all the horse-backy riding and womanizing things that Mongol lords are supposed to do), and instead does shit like poetry and paperwork and logistics.

Which is hilarious in a sense, because while Ouyang and Esen and the prince are riding throughout the countryside with their armies and their people and destroying, Lord Wang is the one literally holding the province together with a complex yet industrious bureaucracy. He’s the one getting the bills paid, keeping the lights on (so to speak), the roads paved, the villagers more or less alive and productive. And yet, because he refuses to fight and adopt the mannerisms of a traditional warrior, he’s seen as inferior and unaccomplished.

At times, I was like, Ouyang, stop being an idiot and look at what Wang is actually doing, and then I had to sit back and realize how deeply entrenched Ouyang—and everyone else—was within the misogynistic views of the world.

In this world, there is only one way towards being a man—and therefore being worthwhile—being a warrior. Warfare is the only way to power, the only power of worth, and in this world, the ends always justify the means if you come out on top.

“If only one of them would bear a son, that would put them in order,” Esen complained. “But at the moment all of them think they have a chance to be on top. It’s a nightmare. When I’m here they treat me like nothing but a breeding stallion.” He added indignantly, “They don’t even serve me tea!”

However, this is a story of women claiming their own power. I’m not going to spoil this by saying how or why, just that power doesn’t necessarily mean warfare or brute force. And that quote doesn’t really spoil it, either.

Ma is by far my absolute favorite and I wanted more of her, and also more of Lady Rui, of whom very little is seen but very much is expressed. Same with Madam Zhang and countless other women—who are humanized even as they are diminished by the men surrounding them. I wanted more of their stories, and it’s very clear that their stories are just as important as the glory-chasing men surrounding them.

Into that silence fell a single beat. One drum, beating like a heart. Then another picked up the rhythm, and another. From the west, an answering cadence. The Yuan and Zhang armies speaking to each other. Readying themselves.

The depiction of warfare itself was just stunning. From Zhu on the bridge to the strategy of siege warfare and tactical retreats and logistics, I was enthralled. This is the good shit right here—war is not glorified in any way, but the brilliance in tactics and strategy and maneuver and good leadership and training is not lost.

Not to mention the different approaches in leadership and loyalty, and the heartbreaking routes to power and preservation and winning.

I cannot wait for the second book.

I received this ARC from NetGalley for an honest review.

She Who Became the Sun releases July 20, 2021 from Tor.

She Who Became the sun is a bold, queer reimaging of the rise of the Ming Dynasty that will sweep you away.

Set in the mid-1300s, young Zhu refuses to be nothing. So when her brother, who was giving the fate of greatness, succumbs to despair and dies, Zhu takes on his identity in order to claim his fate. Through her desire to survive she learns she is willing to do whatever it takes to achieve greatness, and escape her own fate.

I was blown away by this book. The themes of destiny, war, gender identity, desire, love, and duty woven throughout were not only impactful but will sit with me for months to come. Zhu's resilience and pragmatism make you want to root for her while questioning her all at once. I particularly was drawn to the theme of gender identity drawn out not only through Zhu's character but through Ouyang's character. I'm still pondering with the line

"Zhu didn't have a male body- but she wasn't convinced Ma was right. How could her body be a woman's body, if it didn't house a woman?"

Split into two-part, Part 1 follows Zhu's coming of age and Part 2 splits into multi-POV following not only Zhu, but a young woman named Ma in the Red Turban camp, and Ouyang a eunuch general in the Mongol camp. The shift took a bit for me to get used to. However, by the end, I was glad for it and felt it added to the story. Overall I give this 4Stars. While I loved the characters and themes, the war and strategy that plays so heavily did not appeal to me personally. I found these parts slower to read. For those looking for historical fiction with magical relaism elements, this is it!

She Who Became the Sun was originally pitched as Mulan meets The Song of Achilles, but it proves itself to stand strong on its own merit.. At its heart, this is a beautifully written, deeply impressive debut that discusses destiny, identity, gender, the sense of belonging, and how far someone disadvantaged by their identity must go to achieve power and be remembered for who they are. Parker-Chan's debut is a perfect read-alike for fans of The Poppy War and for those looking for a queer, morally grey story of triumph and self-exploration that's set to be a very memorable series from a phenomenal new voice.

She Who Became the Sun is a subversive and slightly supernatural reimagining of the 14th century Ming Dynasty's founding emperor in which Zhu starts off as a young girl destined for nothingness. When her brother Zhu Chongba, who is destined for greatness, dies, she takes on his name - and fate.

As a pun-appreciator I want to take a second before I start my review to applaud Shelley Parker-Chan on the title of her debut novel. She who became... the son. I love it! Anyway...

Zhu's journey to greatness begins at the Wuhuang Monastery where she learns how to be a monk and we learn she is willing to do anything to fulfill her (brother's) destiny. Once her stay at the monastery ends, another story begins - that of General Ouyang. Ouyang is a Nanren whose traitorous family was punished by execution by the Mongol Prince of Henan. Ouyang was spared but castrated and made into a slave. Thanks to his intelligence, dedication and friendship with Prince of Henan's son Esen, he advances from slave to bodyguard to general and now leads a huge chunk of the Mongol army in a war against the rebel Red Turbans who have just been joined by Zhu.

My feelings towards Zhu and Ouyang and the war changed multiple times throughout the novel. What starts off as a clear-cut good guy vs. bad guy scenario turns into more of an antihero vs. tortured antagonist story where you're not sure who to root for anymore. Each of them is ruthless and goal-driven but they also have redeeming qualities. Their inner battles and vulnerability when they're alone or with people they love and trust make them more approachable and likeable. They even make some of their actions justifiable.

I love the way Shelley Parker-Chan deals with each of the characters' paths to self-realization, with their struggles with identity, gender, what it means to be a man or woman, and what actually makes someone a man or a woman. It was interesting (and a little infuriating) to explore how differently a woman living as a man is perceived to a man existing as a eunuch, and which privileges Zhu has been given and Ouyang denied.

Other than Zhu and Ouyang, the novel features a bunch of brilliant supporting characters such as Ma and Xu Da, Zhu's love interest and best friend, Esen, Ouyang's best friend (with romantic undertones) and Wang Baoxiang, Esen's brother and éminence grise on the Mongol side. The writing is exquisite and luxurious and it evokes such detailed and rich mental images that I may as well have been watching a film.

As far as the downsides are concerned, the pacing miffed me a little, and I started to lose my connection to Zhu in the final part of the novel. Even though her intentions were clear since the very beginning, I felt like she started becoming too cruel and losing her humanity for the sake of "greatness". Still, I'm looking forward to finding out how everything wraps up in the second, and final, novel.

She Who Became the Sun comes out on July 20th. Huge thank you to NetGalley, Shelley Parker-Chan and Macmillan-Tor/Forge for the advanced reader copy.

I have a history of not getting on with fantasy or science fiction that has a military lean, and so I tend to avoid it unless I'm explicitly told by those I trust that this will be one for me. But 2021 is a year for getting out of our comfort zones and so I thought I would take a chance on She Who Became the Sun and it turns out taking chances is great because some times you get to read utterly fantastic fiction.

I loved the flow of this book, I think part of the problem I have had in the past with books focussed on war is that it all starts to feel quite samey. However in this case we not only have multiple perspectives on the same conflict but also an exploration of different facets of war, from life in camp to life far behind the lines, from in the moment battles to long term strategy. It all comes together in a really fascinating and complete way to make for a fantastic read.

China in 1345 is a piece of world history about which I hold very little knowledge so I can't speak to how much has been preserved or re-imagined in this story, but I did find myself wanting to go and do some more research into this period which is always a sign of a good book for me.

Zhu is a fantastic main character and I found their journey throughout the book to be incredibly interesting. One of my favourite ideas to be explored in fantasy is that of fate and predestination and I thought that this book did a great job of tackling those ideas, particularly in the way that we can make one conclusion as a child and then see how that idea would shift and change as we grow older.

Having finished this book about a month ago now I find myself quite desperate to re-read it, to see which aspects I missed and to relive some of the more impactful moments. This, to me, is the sign of a truly remarkable story told impeccably well.

I received a free digital review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley, all opinions are my own.

This book is described as Mulan meets Song of Achilles and while that is a very enticing way to market this book, I think a better comparison would be to The Poppy Wars. If you loved The Poppy Wars, you will enjoy this book. Its brutal and complicated, with slightly more romance. There are two main characters. The first reminds me a lot of Rin. She is the type of morally grey who will stop at nothing to survive and achieve greatness. There were a couple of instances that made me "omg" out loud, haha.

The second main character I find incredibly fascinating in his goals and self-hatred. I found him to be more a of a straight forward character in that I knew where his story was going, but his journey to it felt messy and complicated and I loved it. The scenes where the two mains overlap are my favorite parts as I think they pair really well together. They propel each other forward through conflict and compromise, and feel very yin/yang to each other..

But my absolute favorite part.. and warning this is a teensy bit spoilery.. is the handling of Zhu's name throughout the entirety of the book. Its done incredibly well and I felt like really took you through the journey of her identity.

The book is self contained and does not ending on a crazy cliff hanger. I really appreciated that and am looking forward to the next installment. Thank you Netgalley and Tor Books for the eARC.

Zhu Chongba is destined for greatness.

It’s his fate – the fortune teller said so. But Zhu Chongba is dead. And his sister – the girl whose fate is to be nothing – makes a decision that will not only change her life, but will alter the course of history.

She Who Became the Sun is described as ‘Mulan meets The Song of Achilles’, which is absolutely true – as long as your idea of Mulan is less the jovial musical of Disney fame, and more of an intense, famine-stricken, political intrigue-filled, military manoeuvring chess game of a tale. It’s everything that it promises to be, and so, so much more. A true fantasy epic, in every sense of the phrase.

I’m not usually a huge fan of stories which go into chapters and chapters of detail about great battles, which is why I love the way Shelley Parker-Chan has written this book. The battles are unimportant. For the most part, the battles themselves get a paragraph; some are just a sentence or two. What is important is the political movements preceding and following them, their impacts on the armies, and their impacts on loyalties. It’s a clever way of writing what is essentially a book about war – to not include the physical war, but to focus on the political and personal impacts, and the characters driving the movements.

The story is a reimagination of the Red Turban rebellion and the rise of the Ming dynasty, with added fantasy elements (ghosts! magic!). It follows two stories, on opposing sides: the first is Zhu Chongba, a girl who has stolen her brother’s fate; the second is Ouyang, a eunuch General for the Yuan faction. Both characters are cunning, manoeuvring those around them. Zhu is fuelled by her desire for greatness; Ouyang by his desire for revenge.

Desire is a core theme of She Who Became the Sun – not only for the lengths people will go to to get what they want, but also for the devastating impacts of not desiring something enough. It’s a full on (I’ll add the author’s provided CWs below) and richly imagined, immersive tale that had me flipping pages whenever I had a spare moment.

If you haven’t already added this one to your TBR (you good?), add it now – it’s sure to become a classic, and I cannot recommend this powerful story more.

Thank you to NetGalley and to Tor/Forge publishers for providing me with this ARC.

AUTHOR’S PROVIDED CWs:
* Dysphoria
* Pre-existing non-consensual castration
* Misgendering
* Internalised homophobia
* Life-altering injury (amputation)
* Ableist language
* Non-graphic depictions of death by torture
* Major character death
* Offscreen murder of a child
* Scenes depicting extreme hunger/starvation
* Graphic depiction of a person burning to death

Series Info/Source: This is the first book in The Radian Emperor Duology. I got an eGalley of this book through NetGalley to review.

Story (5/5): This was very, very well done. I really enjoyed this epic historical novel and it was an intriguing look into an alternate Chinese history. I know a bit about this time period but really would have enjoyed an afterword talking about the true history. It's always intriguing to know how a book differs from historical fact and how much is more or less true. The description of this being a story of “Mulan” meets “The Song of Achilles” is very apt.

Characters (5/5): All of the characters that fill these pages are very complex. Zhu takes on her brother’s name and hopes that she will gain the prophecy of greatness that was supposed to be his (this is where the Mulan vibe comes from). We also read a lot from Ouyang’s POV; Ouyang is the eunuch general of the Mongol army. Zhu tried to temper her ambitions by surrounding herself with people who can make up for her lack of compassion. Ouyang is determined to get revenge for his family name even if it hurts the person he loves the most. These characters are selfish and self-serving, but also incredibly driven and they have people in their lives that greatly influence them.

Setting (5/5): The book starts out in the mid-1340’s in the Central Plains and follows only Zhu for the first part of the book, then moves to a monastery on the mountain side. From there we move more into Chinese politics and are switched between the headquarters of the Red Turban rebellion and the main palace of the Mongols. Settings are incredibly well described and really come alive for the reader. I enjoyed the variety of locations as well.

Writing Style (5/5): This was incredibly easy to read and very hard to put down. The writing flows well and, even though a lot of names are thrown at you early on, they aren’t too hard to keep track of. The first part of the book is from Zhu’s POV but then we switch to multiple POVs and hear a lot from Ouyang and Ma. This was very well written and I really enjoyed it a ton. My only complaint is that I would have really enjoyed a commentary on how this compares to the actual known history of the time (since most of my knowledge of this time in history comes from playing various Dynasty Warriors and Romance of the Three Kingdoms video games).

My Summary (5/5): Overall this was an amazing read. If you are at all interested in Chinese history or historical fiction, I would recommend this book. This does an excellent job of incorporating the history of the time into an entertaining story with complex characters and an engaging storyline. It’s impossible to put down and I can’t wait to see what the final book of this duology has in store for us.

I feel really bad about not finishing an ARC, but I was so bored that I just could not get into this. I struggled with a lot of my recent ARCs and I just didn't have it in me to keep pushing myself to read. This was boring and the main character (Zhu) is supposed to be "Mulan" and I just did not get it myself. I thought a book trumpeted as Mulan with a "Son of Achilles" spin would be intriguing to read, but it really does not work.

"She Who Became the Sun" is the first in a planned series called "The Radiant Emperor". Taking place in the 1300s in China, the book follows a family with multiple children. However, the 8th brother is destined for greatness. Things change when the children are left orphaned and then the boy, dies. His sister takes his name (Zhu) and enters as a novice into a monastery.

So Zhu wasn't even enough of a Mary Sue for me to get worked up about the character. I read up to the 25 percent mark, and I still didn't see it. Maybe the later books will show that more. I just didn't think that the book was that creative in the end for me to continue with it. I get it, a young woman is hiding her identity. I just went ehhh for the parts that I read.

Also, the multiple POVs that I read through also made this book confusing. And since I was reading this in tandem with Wendig's newest book, I just could not put up with two books having so many POVs. It was just jarring and I couldn't get back into things.

The flow of the book up to the point I read was not working for me either. There were things happening either very fast or very slow.

I received an ARC of She Who Became the Sun from Macmillan-Tor/Forge in exchange for an honest review.

If this review were a car, I would equip it with sirens and flashing lights and then crash it into your social feeds like Vin Diesel in a Fast & Furious film. “Oh no!” you might say, spotting me wide-eyed and white-knuckled behind the wheel of this review. “Are you okay?” At which point I would stumble out of the metaphorical car, blood trickling down my face, and ask if you’ve heard about She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan.

“I’ve seen some buzz online,” you say, shrugging. You offer me a drink. “Have you read it?”

“Yes! It’s the best book of the year.”

“But the year isn’t over yet. Maybe you should hold off on hyperbolic proclamations until—”

“It’s the best book of the year!” I shriek, passionate but clearly delirious.

“Okay.” You gesture to a plush armchair; I sit down gratefully, sipping my drink. “Tell me why. The description says it’s like Mulan meets The Song of Achilles?”

“Yes and no. That’s not technically inaccurate, but I’d say it’s something closer to ‘The Poppy War as written by Frank Herbert with input from Steven Erikson.’”

“Oh?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Yeah! She Who Became the Sun reimagines the rise to power of the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty in the 14th century—but in this version of the story, Zhu Chongba is a young woman who has taken the place of her deceased older brother and masquerades as a man, first as a monk and then as a military leader during a bloody rebellion against Mongol rule. Zhu brings to mind Rin from The Poppy War or Kvothe from The Name of the Wind; she is ruthless and hypercompetent, unwilling to tolerate anyone who impedes her ascension to greatness, which makes her sometimes (and with increasing frequency) unsympathetic but always compelling to witness. She is like, well, the sun—a force of nature, impossible to look at directly but equally impossible to ignore. The book exists wholly in her gravity.

“But Zhu is not the only celestial object in this sky of similes. The novel intersects the orbits of several other characters, the most prominent of which being Ouyang, a eunuch general for the Mongols who frequently comes into conflict with Zhu. He is the Joker to her Batman; although her enemy, she is drawn to him as a kindred spirit (we’re moving past the Batman metaphor now) in the liminal spaces of gender—not a man but not a woman either, an outcast and an outsider, uniquely equipped to see the world in ways that others cannot but also unable to fully be a part of that world. Ouyang is a rich and textured character, cruel and savage like Zhu yet imbued with so much humanity he’ll make your heart ache. I would describe them as yin and yang, but that comparison is built into the text of She Who Became the Sun; the book quite explicitly pushes back against it and arguably deconstructs it outright.”

“All right,” you say as I pause to take a drink. “I understand why you thought of The Poppy War. Why Frank Herbert?”

“The transparency of information. Zhu and Ouyang occupy the core of the novel, but it flits between several other characters, including Ma, a woman who becomes tangled up with Zhu, Esen, a Mongol who has spent many years campaigning with Ouyang, and Esen’s adopted brother, Wang Baoxiang. At no point was I uncertain as to the motivations of these characters—even when I was disappointed, exasperated, or frustrated by their actions, I always knew exactly why they did what they did and could understand what drove them to make those choices. Parker-Chan (wisely) trusts the conflict between the characters to push the story forward rather than relying on withheld information to generate tension. It’s the same type of storytelling Herbert used to great effect in Dune, and it works wonders here.

“When multiple POVs are in play, there is also always the risk of one (or more) being less interesting than the others; we’ve all read books in which we get to the perspective of That Character™ and feel a twinge of disappoint before trudging through their section. Not so here! I was genuinely thrilled to read about every character in this novel, and I can say with complete confidence that any one of them could have carried the story on their own. I would happily read an entire book from the perspective of Ma, or Esen, or Baoxiang—they are truly that engaging.”

“Makes sense! What about Erikson?”

“I bring up Erikson because of the writing, primarily in regard to Parker-Chan’s ability to establish a sense of place (something Erikson particularly excelled at in the early novels of The Malazan Book of the Fallen). There’s a real sense of weight to the physical environments in She Who Became the Sun; I always felt like I was fully present in the world of the story, and that’s important to me as a reader.

“The Erikson comparison also applies to the density of the text, which is packed to the gills with story. So much happens in every sentence. This is a book best savored slowly, absorbed rather than inhaled. Once I started reading, I don’t think I breathed until the end of the first chapter—it’s raw and relentless, almost a self-contained short story that functions as a prelude to the sweeping epic that follows. And it doesn’t stop there. The first quarter of She Who Became the Sun feels like the equivalent of an entire novel, and I’m exaggerating only slightly when I say that I’ve read entire series in which less happens than in this one book.” (This is the part where I surreptitiously side-eye The Wheel of Time.)

“I’m not sure that’s a positive,” you say. “The pacing might be too fast. Does it give the characters a chance to develop?”

“Yes! I was concerned about that too. The pacing is certainly unconventional, stretching some scenes out across pages and then breezing by seemingly major moments in a paragraph. But it works. Parker-Chan is concerned only with what is best for this story; if it’s important, it gets the time it needs. There is no filler in this book. It’s lean, it’s mean, and it has precisely zero interest in wasting your time—there are veteran authors who could learn a thing or two from She Who Became the Sun. This is a debut novel, by the way, a fact which I find mildly frightening.”

“This seems too good to be true. There must be something you didn’t like.”

“Okay, fine; it’s not perfect. The final chapter feels slightly rushed. There’s one relationship that develops and escalates a bit too quickly, especially given the culture in which it takes place and the characters involved. Apart from those, my only other complaint lies with the occasional clumsy sentence. Perhaps once every chapter or two I ran into a line in which I had difficulty deciphering who was speaking or which character was being referenced, and I was annoyed at having to pause and reread several times just to figure out what the sentence was actually saying. It’s a minor problem and I wouldn’t bring it up in almost any other review, but this book is so good I’m searching for nitpicks under a microscope (and since I read an ARC, I should point out that these lines may have been edited for clarity prior to publication). This novel has been polished to near-perfection. Your mileage may vary, of course, but I can’t find much to criticize.” I shrug.

“Wow! What else can you tell me?”

“Well, I could go on at length about how this book explores the nuances of gender, how it portrays culture and religion, and how the exceedingly light touch of its speculative fiction elements give it an enjoyably ambiguous flavor (I spent a significant portion of the novel convinced that it was historical fiction and didn’t even qualify as fantasy), but I believe those conversations are best saved for discussions amongst readers who have finished the book.”

“That sounds great! In that case, I’ll be sure to pick up a copy of She Who Became the Sun when it comes out on July 20th, 2021. I can’t wait to read it!”

“Fantastic,” I say, standing up. “I’ve got some other books to review, so I have to head out. Sorry for barging in like this—I normally knock or slide my reviews under the door, so I don’t know if you saw them, but Shelley Parker-Chan may have written the best debut novel I’ve ever read. She Who Became the Sun heralds the arrival of an astounding talent in the world of literature, and I wanted to make sure you knew about it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You indicate the dried blood which now crusts my face.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” I wave negligently as I get back in the car, then screech away down the street with the sirens screaming. I call back: “Hope you enjoy the book!”

“Huh,” you say.

A girl seen as nothing seeks greatness in this fantasy retelling of the founding of the Ming Dynasty in ancient China (previously under Mongol rule).

It is an extraordinary read, showing one born the lowest of the low, who yet rises to win the Mandate of Heaven.

The first thing to say about this book is that the writing is absolutely beautiful - I had to stop a fair few times to admire the way different sections were written.
I really enjoyed the first part of the book with the mc’s childhood and time at the monastery, and thought it set up the story well. My only criticism is in part 2, which got confusing with the shifting POV, meaning I didn’t really understand the plot until the end. As soon as it clicked, though, the story was incredible.
The ending of this book was particularly good, using clever character development with a morally grey mc letting us down rather than becoming ‘good’.
This book is a tough read, but so so worth it. I would definitely recommend it.

It's only as I write this that I realize that I am a complete idiot and the title of this book, She Who Became The Sun by Parker-Chan, is the mother of all puns. It’s about a woman who rose to fame and fortune by shining brighter than the sun, by pretending to be the son in her family. Apparently, I am super dense. This book was billed to me as a Disney’s Mulan retelling, but it's actually much more closely related to the original Chinese fable. The only thing it really shares with the Disney version is it features a female protagonist that hides her gender to blend into a man’s world. It's less fun training montages and more doing anything possible to crawl out of abject poverty.

She Who Became The Sun is about fate. Early in the story, we meet a sad daughter of a poor family. She is given a fortune that she will be nothing, while her brother Chongba is fated to have a grand destiny. When Chongba and the rest of the family are struck down, the daughter believes that if she assumes Chongba’s identity, she can steal his fate. As long as she doesn’t get discovered, she can trick the gods and claw her way up from nothing to greatness.

She Who Became the Sun is a very strong debut, one of the best Dark Horses I have reviewed in my years on this site. It’s got beautiful poetic prose, a wonderful blending of classic Chinese and modern epic fantasy storytelling, a great cast, and an engrossing plot that keeps the reader heavily invested. Parker-Chan does a wonderful job blending history with fiction as they cover Zhu Yuanzhang’s ascent to power and the rise of the Ming Dynasty in 14th century China. It has deep and complex characters as well as some of the best political machinations I have read this year. Chongba is always trading up, stabbing his/her way to the top, and seizing every opportunity to advance their destiny while balancing on a knife-edge between success and ruin. Chongba is constantly switching sides, double-crossing people, and clawing their way ever upwards.

All of this is coupled with a layer of magical mystery that expands the worldbuilding beyond just a piece of historical fiction. The story is also helped by the supporting cast all being likable and memorable. Every person Chongba discards on their way to their fate is someone you care about and it paints them as this morally grey character that you both love and hate. The prose is super dense, but also poetic. It paints a vibrant picture of a war-torn period and pairs nicely with the grim and awful world that it is describing. 

The major theme of the book is self-reflection and self-realization, a topic that is wonderfully examined through Chongba’s messy identity and the surrounding supporting cast. There are conversations around personal identity, familial identity, gender identity, and societal identity. To top it all off there are actually some pretty good action sequences.

The one drawback of She Who Became the Sun is the pacing, which can be erratic. Some sections feel super exciting and fast while others are a very slow burn. Couple this with the fact that the prose is dense as concrete and you get some sections that really can drag. However, they are few and far between and an easy issue to overlook with all the great other things the book has to offer.

If you are looking for a Chinese-inspired fantasy, She Who Became the Sun has been my favorite so far. It feels distinctly culturally different from everything else I have read lately, yet not so foreign to me that I struggled to understand the context. The prose was beautiful, the themes were meaningful, and watching the character arcs was extremely satisfying. To top it all off, the plot was great and ended on a cliffhanger. Now I am just sitting here impatiently waiting for the next book. Go check this one out.

Rating: She Who Became the Sun  8.5/10
-Andrew