This is an excellent military fantasy. I enjoyed the historical setting and characters, and I learned a lot. The exploration of religion and fate was done so well, and the magic system was subtle but wonderful. Gender is explored in an open, fantastic way, and I appreciated that. I didn't connect with the characters as much as I would have liked, but they were still phenomenal.

Deeply engrossing and filled to the brim with culture, excitement, big feelings, and bigger scenes. A strong recommendation for any library with a substantial group of readers who love fantasy and/or queer books.

Friends, I am conflicted, for a variety of reasons

- this was probably one of the most anticipated fantasy novels of the year 2021
- the idea was great, and reminded me a lot of The Poppy War, even though they have nothing in common aside of a bamf main character and the Chinese setting.
- the writing was cool
- I could not read more than a chapter or two at a time because I just couldn't get into it properly


You see my dillemma. I can't just rate a book highly because I want it to be good. I really do want to do that. I loved the idea of a mulan-esque Fantasy novel set in 1345 China/Mongolia with a varied cast (including queer characters, I love queer people in historical settings). I loved the idea of a monk turned warrior main character, and I liked that we got to see both sides of the conflict.

That being said, i did not care even the tiniest bit about anyone I met along the way. I don't remember a single name.
As I said, I didn't really stay engaged at all. Every other chapter, I lost interest and put the book down for at least a week; all the way to the 60% mark. For one, because the action starts happening then, and because I decided to muscle through the rest.

So, I'm sad to report that I cannot reasonably give this more than 3 stars. I really want to, because this could've been so much more (and it probably is, to most other people that aren't me), but this just really didn't work for me.

This is an entirely It's-not-you-it's-me situation though (as was And I Darken, or Descendant of the Crane, or The Chosen and the Beautiful and oh my god is that a pattern? Do historical fantasy-ish novels and I just not work out? This explains so much.). So please, give it a try!!


@NetGalley and Tor Books: Thank you guys for this ARC!

A powerful, but complicated, book that will have you on the edge of your seat.
Perfect for fans of Song of Achilles and those who love women taking charge.

While I enjoyed this lovely tale I do think that the comps given for it of Song of Achilles and Mulan really dont work for it. Possibly Poppy War would have been better.. I had gone into this thinking it was more historical fantasy and it was more historical fiction which was fine and I liked it but would have liked it more if the main relationship was between Ouygen and Zhu. With their strange pull of I can feel this person/I know this person/connected to them it would have been a great forbidden enemies to lovers romance with a lot more angst. As it was the Ouygen's relationship with Esan didn't really interest me all that much. But I am interested in the second book. The writing style is great and the characters are great. I just wished the romances were different.

Wow. Just, wow. I went into this book with moderately low expectations, despite all the glowing reviews and yet was blown away. (Like everyone was going to be wrong or something?) Zhu is far and above one of my favorite characters in any book I’ve read in a while. She’s a bad ass. She’s ruthless. And she’ll do what she needs to fulfill her destiny to be great. The struggle to find the balance in identity is very relatable, and I can’t wait to read the following books in the series!

She Who Became the Sun is one of those novels that promise to do the impossible. Mulan meets The Song of Achilles thanks to Shelly Parker-Chan's prose.

Zhu Chongba is a girl who grew up with nothing. She was born on a dusty plain, under a different name. Had she not been so clever, she would have been fated to follow the path of the rest of the little girls around her. She would have died.

Zhu knew that to survive – to seize her destiny – she would have to do something bold. But she's capable of doing anything, including defying the fate that her elders tried to force upon her.

"I can do this. I can learn. I can survive."

Wow. She Who Became the Sun hit me in the chest like a sledgehammer. No, seriously, this is a novel that will force emotions from even the toughest reader, as Zhu's story starts in such a painfully human manner.

From there, her world quickly changes. It's impossible to look away. At least, I found that to be the case. Admittedly the pacing is a little bit slow, especially after the introduction is complete. It's not until about the one/third mark that the novel will begin picking up again.

It's worth that investment and time – I promise you. Everything laid down in the earlier parts comes to fruition, creating a dense and compelling tale. It's around this point where the comparisons (Mulan and The Song of Achilles) will suddenly make sense.

"She was always going to be expelled into that world of chaos and violence – of greatness and nothingness."

While She Who Became the Sun has been favorably compared to other novels, I should also mention that it is also so much more than that. This is not a retelling by any means, and it is important to keep that in mind. Retellings are often restricted due to their very nature. There is none of that here, and the risks Shelly Parker-Chan takes pay off.

I really enjoyed this story of a person who believes their fate to be a bad one, and discovers a different fate along the way. The books beautifully weaves good storytelling and history into this epic tale. This was a beautiful take on gender and its complexity as well; I loved the way the author described characters' journeys in terms of their gender and uproots typical gender norms. So glad to have been able to read this book!

I received a free advance reader's copy and am leaving this review voluntarily...

From the first ghost, I was reminded of Mulan. However, this story had much more adult themes. It was telling that I never learnt the girl's name. I only knew about Zhu Chongba and his destiny. As far as everyone was concerned, females did not matter. So it wasn't surprising that she would want his destiny for herself.
The book started off a bit slow and I nearly put it aside for another book. I'm glad I didn't though. Eventually it drew me in. One issue I did have, however, was that I did not really connect with the characters. I felt like there should have been more character development. One character I did feel some pity for was Ouyang, an eunuch destined to always be ridiculed. This story was as much about him as it was Zhu.
I would love to see where the story goes in the sequel and would definitely love to read more of this author's work.
Due to sexual content and violence, this book should be read by adults.

She has never not known hunger. At ten years old, she has known great suffering as her mother, grandparents, and all but one of her siblings have died. The world is feeling the bite of famine and drought, and all she sees before her is nothing.Such is the fate the fortune teller bestows upon her when she dares to ask him what he sees: Nothing. She is nothing.

Zhu Chongba, her brother, is destined for greatness. His deeds will be known for one hundred generations. And she is nothing.

When fate intervenes, in the form of bandits, Zhu Chongba falls dead, and rather than have his fate and his fortune fall with him, the girl takes up his name. She is now Zhu Chongba, she is now the one with the destiny of greatness. She is the one whose name will be known, whose voice will be heart. She will be Zhu Chongba. And she will live.

From a monastery whose halls are walked by restless, hungry ghosts, to the army of the Red Turbans, Zhu Chongba makes her way ever higher. From monk to soldier to general to commander … there is no limit to her need for power, for her determination to live. Beaten, stabbed, starved, or mocked, she will live where her brother did not. She will stand where others fall. And she will win.

I want to start this review by stating, as a simple fact: I love this book. This is a wonderful, poignant, cruel, and thoughtful book and I want you to love it as much as I do. It’s a story about selfishness, the selfishness of wanting to live, of wanting to be worth living. Of grabbing hold of your own destiny — even if it comes from stealing someone else’s — and grief, loss, love, and the pain of love. Of loving who you can’t, not being able to love as you should, doubting the worth of your love, doubting your own worthiness and whether you even deserve love.

There is a gamut of emotions that come through in this well-written, well-researched, and frankly wonderful book. From monks to governor’s wives, from thieves to generals, wives, sons, and daughters, from to farmers and soldiers, there is no person in this book untouched as we bear witness to the rise and fall of Zhu Chonbga. And I loved every minute of it. It reminds me of one of my favorite all time series in the sheer amount of emotion this book was able to wring out of me, and will be one of my top three books in my favorites list this year.

Zhu Chongba has a will of clay. No matter how you punch it, pinch it, or break it, it is flexible and resilient. She will reform herself again and again, putting aside pride in favor of practicality, so long as she lives. And as long as she lives, as long as she draws breath, she will be fighting, tooth and nail, for the greatness she knows is hers. There is no cost she won’t pay, from her innocence to her heart. And she does it all while making herself believe she is Zhu Chongba, son of her father, the man destined for greatness. She has to be him, or risk losing his fortune. She inhabits her place so well that it causes dysmorphia as she expects to find a man’s body, with a man’s muscles and height, only to wake up every morning in her own woman’s flesh. And even as she falls in love for a beautiful girl, there is a part of her that wonders if this is Zhu Chongba’s love or her own.

Ma Xiuying is the daughter of a fallen general, the bride-to-be of a dashing young commander. She was property to be handed out as a prize, whose worth was in the sons she would bear and the daughters her husband would be able to trade away for alliances. Her thoughts, her feelings, her very personhood were ignored at best, useless and scorned at worst. It wasn’t until the monk — the foolish, troublemaker, charming monk — dared to ask her what her hopes were, what her wants were that she realized she had none. She had never been allowed to have them. But when monk Zhu looks at her, smiles at her, teases her … she begins to want.

And when her carefully managed world is turned upside down again, it is monk Zhu who offers her a light in the darkness and a hand over uncertain ground. And oh, the marriage proposal:

“Yes. Marry me. But not like it would have been with Little Guo. […] People who play this game will do whatever’s needed to get themselves to the top, regardless of others. All my life I’ve believed I have to be like that to get what I want. And I do want my fate. I want it more than anything. But what kind of world will we have if everyone in it is like Chen Youliang? A world of terror and cruelty? I don’t want that either, not if there’s another way. But I can’t see that other way by myself. So join me, Ma Xiuying. Show me.”

On the other side of war is the Mongolian empire, led by Prince Chaghan and his son Esen, and the eunuch general, Oyuang, a man as lost to himself as Zhu Chongba is, and a man after his own destiny. When the was young, Ouyang’s father took part in a rebellion against the Emperor and failed. In punishment, his entire family, to the ninth degree (fathers, sons, uncles, cousins, grandparents, grandsons, sworn brothers and their children, his household, anyone living in his house at the time), was put to death. But Ouyang, with his kinsmen dead around him, their cooling blood staining the wood floors next to him, begged for life. And … it was granted. The Prince of Henan, Esen’s father Chaghan, let him live as a eunuch, to prevent him from continuing his family and to let him live a life of mockery and dishonor. Ouyang accepted..

Despite what others may have thought, he didn’t beg out of cowardice. Instead, he begged out of filial devotion and bottomless hatred. Ouyang intends to gain vengeance for his family. For his father, for his brothers, for his mother and sisters. And for himself. For every slight, every slur. Every bruise he was given, every snickering comment. Ouyang may not be Prince Baoxiang, Lord Wang, to keep a tally in a ledger, but he has an excellent memory and a pit where his heart should be.

Baoxiang, the adopted son of Prince Chaghan, is of mixed blood. An intellectual, an artist, and an administrator, he is everything his adopted father hates. It’s because of him the army has the money to pay for the men, the horses, and the supplies. It’s because of him their cities prosper, their tradesmen are welcomed, and their alliances are strong. But all his adopted father sees is the strength and masculinity of his blooded son, Esen. All Baoxiang gets are insults while Esen is given praise. Even though, were it not for Baoxiang, there would be no army for Esen to lead, and no house for him to return to.

Esen is the bright light, the shining beacon of glory and greatness. Skilled with weapons and horses, a brilliant commander beloved by his men, his life would be perfect were it not for this rebellion of the Red Turbans. But, even so, the rebellion allows him to show his skill in combat, gives his men some sport to kill, loot and spoils to claim, and makes his father proud. And for Esen, other than his inability to sire sons, that’s all a man really needs. He loves his brother, loves his father, and loves Ouyang. Against all the complex politics and princes, Esen stands apart. Though whether he’s a fool or fate’s destined one, it’s hard to say.

In this book, there are comparisons to be made between everyone, with how they rule, how they serve, what they live for, and how they choose to live. Between Zhu Chongba and Ouyang, who are and are not two sides of the same coin; between Ouyang and Esen, with one loving with open eyes, and the other loving with an open heart; between Esen and Baoxiang, brothers and yet not, one loved by their father, one hated; between Baoxiang and Ouyang, who both love Esen, and who both hate him. Even when one looks at the women in this book, the powerful and dangerous Queen of Salt, Ma Xiuying, daughter of a general, and Lady Rui, the pregnant wife of a deceased governor, all of whom require power to protect themselves in a world of men and war. There is no one way to be a man, no one way to be a woman, and no one way to greatness.

For all that this a book taking place during a brutal war, there isn’t a great deal of focus on action scenes — no drawn out battles or training montage, and even the descriptions of camps, cities, and temples are spare and distant. Instead, the focus is on the relationships between fathers and sons, brothers, kindred spirits, and kings. A battle may take a sentence on the page with the resulting anguish of those who lost or the joy of those who won are center stage in all the political complexity of two kingdoms, both fighting wars within and without. There is more about Zhu Chongba’s cleverness than her sword fighting, and the three most poignant deaths in this book, for me, were clinical and quick.

There are questions to be raised and conversations to be had regarding the depictions of gender and gender dysphoria in this book, which makes sense considering two of the greater characters are a woman who has taken on a man’s identity and clings to that identity, who lusts as men do after women (and is part of that because she has made herself identify so much as the man she thinks her brother would be?); and a eunuch, who grapples with his own body and his hatred of it, his love and desire for Esen and a man’s body — though not necessarily in a sexual way, and yet … — and his revulsion for women, though I’m not sure if he’s ever been touched by either. However, I am neither qualified enough nor comfortable enough to comment on these subjects. The questions this book raises in its examination of Zhu and Ouyang are complicated and real, and the pain they go through is heart-wrenching.

Of all the passages which most stood out to me, this one, a moment between Zhu Chongba and Ma Xiuying, is my favorite.

“[…] where do you expect me to find love poetry in Anfeng? If there’d even been any to start with, by no it’s all armor linings. And which is the better use: arrow-proof armor, or sweet words whispered in your ear?”

“Without sweet words to believe in, who’s going to go out into a rain of arrows?”

This book going to be lingering in my head for a while, yet, I think. She Who Became the Sun is the first book in the Radiant Empire series, and I can’t wait until the next one is out.

What is there to say about this novel that hasn’t already been said? Gripping, gut-punching, intimate, steeped in the full range of human emotions, and with a compelling portrayal of the queer and trans experience I never expected to see in fantasy, She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan made its way to my instant all time favourites list. If you enjoyed the brutality, amorality, political intrigue, and historical re-imagination of R.F. Kuang’s The Poppy War, you don’t want to miss She Who Became the Sun.

3.5/5

Thanks to Macmillan-Tor and the author for this Netgalley ARC in exchange for an honest review.

When I completed this book I rated it 3.5 stars. I'm keeping my rating the same but it has been a while since then, and mulling it over, I've realised that there are so many things about this book that I really appreciated. I think the exploration of dysphoria was fantastic, and the way it is associated with identity, existential feelings, and 'fate' was wonderful. I think every character was brilliantly complex and flawed, but so human. I think my rating is lower than I expected only because it took me a good half the book to become really invested, the beginning was very slow. But I would still recommend, I think this is a really insightful read.

Queer Imperial Chinese fantasy about ambition and power

I received a copy of this eBook courtesy of the author. I also received a paperback copy of this book from Paperchain Bookstore‘s recent VIP science fiction and fantasy After Dark event which came with a signed bookplate. It was a really fun event with some local fantasy authors, however I have to say it is dangerous having a bookshop open with wines on offer because it turns out a little loss of inhibition means buying a lot more books!

“She Who Became the Sun” by Shelley Parker-Chan is a fantasy novel set in Imperial China. The story is told from two perspectives: an orphaned girl who appropriates her brother Zhu Chongba’s identity in pursuit of the great destiny he was promised and a eunuch called Ouyang whose loyalty to the Mongols who adopted him is undermined by his vow to avenge his family.

This is an epic novel that explores the idea of fate, and how much our lives are predetermined and how much our determination can shape our lives. Zhu was a fascinating character who refreshingly pursues ambition using wits, willpower and an impeccable sense of timing. Parker-Chan challenges the reader to consider gender identity from very unique perspectives: being forced to assume a gender to survive, and having your sex stolen from you without your consent. I really liked that in this book, ambition trumps everything and I felt that this made the character’s motivations really refreshing. Parker-Chan’s characters are surprising in their ruthlessness and I enjoyed how they used hardship as a springboard to greatness, no matter the moral implications. The magic in this book is really understated and Parker-Chan did an excellent job maintaining ambiguity about who is responsible for fate and who grants the power to conjure light.

I am actually a bit reluctant to write much more about this book because it is such a journey. A ground-breaking addition to the fantasy genre, and I cannot way for part 2 of this duology.

The queer epic fantasy we all deserve.

“However tired I am, however hard it is: I know I can keep going, because I’m alive.”

What an epic tale of human endurance and the power of spirit. Parker-Chan has an incredible ability to craft characters that are deeply complex and overflowing with nuance. Pair that with incredible world-building and political intrigue, and you get this phenomenal tale. Couldn't recommend highly enough!

I almost dnf-ed this at the 52% mark, but then I thought about it and wondered if I was just having some ebook burnout. (I don't often read ebooks) so I bought a physical copy and finished it very quickly!

This is incredibly well-written and thoughtful and delves into the concept of gender and gender expression as well as identity. It's also quite character-driven, with not a lot of real action happening.

I enjoyed my time with this mostly, though I didn't find myself deeply invested in the characters. I do plan to check out the second book.

See the full review in Real Change News 8/4/21

Shelly Parker-Chan’s debut novel “She Who Became the Sun” is a gripping and dazzling read set in 14th-century China. At this time, there is Mongol rule. Citizens of the Yuan Dynasty suffer from famine and roaming gangs of bandits the further they are from the Emperor’s army. It is in one of these famine-stricken villages that we meet our protagonist.

She is a slight, homely girl who lives with her father and brother. Parker-Chan makes it clear that this girl is oppressed by the weight of expectations of her gender in society; a cruel fortune teller says that her fate is Nothingness. On the flip side, her brother is assigned the fate of Greatness. When her brother and father die, she sees her brother’s fate as hers for the taking. And so, she takes his name: Zhu Chongba.

The power of names and fate is a recurring theme in “She Who Became the Sun.” As nine-year-old Zhu goes to a monastery and rises up to monkhood, she holds on fiercely to the destiny that was supposed to be her brother’s and now claims it as her own. Zhu slips into becoming him, learning to read and write and keeping her secret under wraps.

War soon infiltrates her life at the monastery, brought on by General Ouyang, a foil to Zhu throughout the story. Ouyang is a southern Chinese Nanren, the lowest class in the Yuan Dynasty, who was formerly enslaved by the Mongol Empire and has now ascended its ranks. The two find themselves on opposite sides of the growing war between the rebel Red Turban faction and the Yuan Dynasty.

If this sounds familiar, that’s because it’s somewhat based in history. The characters, and many of the historical events, are real. This is a queer retelling of the end of the Great Yuan kingdom and the beginning of the Ming Dynasty. There was a real monk named Zhu Chongba who founded the Ming Dynasty and ousted the Mongolians from power in modern day China. Parker-Chan explores the question: What if instead of a cis man, Zhu was a genderqueer woman, disguising herself as a monk? From there, the perspective of Zhu and the entire Dynasty shifts.

“She Who Became the Sun” is marketed as “Mulan meets Song of Achilles” which is such a disservice to the depth of the story Parker-Chan has carefully crafted for readers. She writes intriguing dialogue that is at times very funny and compelling characters who drive home the horrors of war and vengeance. With “She Who Became the Sun,” I believe Parker-Chan has established herself as a force to be reckoned with in adult fantasy. Fans of historical drama, fantasy and queer literature will find a home in her writing. Parker-Chan inspires readers to look at fate not as something to be endured but to seize.

Review provided by my co-blogger, Emma:

When she hears a fortune teller promise her brother a life of greatness, ‘the girl’ is desperate to hear her own fate. Begging for a reading, she receives a terrible answer: nothing. Unnamed and unwanted, she is to disappear without a trace, no mark left upon this world. Until an unexpected tragedy opens the possibility of something more. In that moment, the girl with no future decides to seize her brother’s… along with his identity. But how long can she fool Heaven into thinking she’s the one who deserves his great fortune?

She Who Became the Sun reimagines the rise to power of Zhu Yuanzhang, the rebel leader who fought the Mongol-led Yuan dynasty and eventually went on to found the Ming dynasty in 14th century China. I don’t know enough about the period to identify how much of this was based on the history and how much was Shelley Parker-Chan’s fiction, save the wonderful genderqueer inclusions, but whatever the foundation, the author’s creativity is stamped upon every page. The book is a masterpiece.

The novel's greatest power is in its unforgettable characters, each crafted with complexity and stunning individuality. Their authenticity flows from their refusal to be any one thing, each pursing their own agenda, each brilliant and flawed in their own ways. Identity lies at the novel’s heart, fed by conflict and competition. The question of who someone really is plays out in the two intertwined storylines, challenging the reader to understand the intricate layers of motivation and deception. Importantly, gender is handled with skill and sensitivity, made inclusive rather than showy. It’s not used to pantomime modern thinking, it’s an essential part of the novel's exploration of love and longing. It feeds into the narrative’s larger themes: self, family, duty. If there’s one challenge that faces all the characters, it’s this: to which of these things does a person have the greatest obligation? By the end, this question will be answered. And it’ll be written in blood.

Zhu has a singular voice. Her determination to achieve greatness regardless of the cost is mesmerising in its intensity. Honestly, I’m still a little unsure about how the author made her so damn appealing. It’s been playing on my mind since I put the book down. Zhu chooses herself and she does it in a way that I rarely see done this well. There’s no exaggerated villainy here, she simply does what’s necessary to move forwards. That she suffers for it, and that others suffer more, is no more than the fair cost of her fate. She’s willing to pay it. She’s willing for others to pay it. If that doesn’t sound dangerous as hell, I don’t know what does. And she’s far from being the only problematic character in the book. Even though it’s hard to chose a side, there’s definitely a favourite for everyone. It’s not something I usually think about at all but even as I was reading this I could tell that there would be a whole load of incredible fan fiction and fan art inspired by this book. These are characters you love and love to hate (with a passion). I can't wait to see what other readers make of it.

This is the first book in a duology and when it’s done, it has the potential to be best-of-the-best level epic. Anyone who has the chance to read it early, do so. For the rest, know that at least one great thing coming in 2021.

Thanks to NetGalley & Macmillan-Tor/Forge for the early copy in exchange for an honest review. Sadly, I had to DNF this one at 20%.

I think this one has to be read in the right mood to really appreciate it. Though, I will say, it got super slow after leaving Zhu's point of view and I honestly just wanted to read the book from Zhu's POV instead of the other characters because we saw Zhu grow up over the years. It felt a bit jarring to be thrown to new character POVs when we got used to Zhu.

I'll definitely try reading it again some other time, it does have beautifully eloquent writing, I'm just not in the mood for it right now.

I was so wholly and utterly taken in by this book. The 14th century Chinese setting is crisp and vivid; the writing is perfectly balanced between thorough and approachable. In addition to the landscapes and customs, the strings of fate are resonant throughout, particularly the intensely palpable ties between Zhu and Ouyang. Shelley Parker-Chan played masterfully with the threads of understanding and misunderstanding between characters with parallel experiences—not the same, but so similar they brought either utter clarity or total obfuscation.
One of the places characters alternate between penetrating vision and total ignorance of each other is gender. Parker-Chan delves into themes of gender as identity versus as performance, and of the intense internal and external pressures—often contradictory pressures—that come with failing to perform to expectations. Gender here is both a flexible and adaptable tool, and a stifling and punishing prison.
Other parts of the characters’ inner lives are just as well realized as gender. Desire is a prominent theme, and She Who Became the Sun is full of powerful descriptions of the characters’ emotions and willpower, particularly Zhu’s. Part vicious ambition, part trickster playfulness, Zhu is as beguiling to me as she is to the other characters in the book. I loved the intensity of her emotions, of her power, of her insistence that women could and must desire, that even through suffering, it is life-affirming. The tangled lines between her and Ma Xiuying in particular are compelling and unique amongst the many connections in the novel; a budding and beautiful thing in a wasteland.
Because much of this book is a wasteland. Many horrific things happen, and no one is pure. But I appreciate how it’s not interested in dulling its epicness, even when it’s ugly. She Who Be and the Sun is a viscerally intense read, one that puts questions of leadership and desire and legacy and selfishness under a microscope, and watches with glee as the answers burn up in smoke, almost irrelevant under the razing light of the sun.

Where I think the novel is sometimes inconsistent in its pacing and sense of time, it more than makes up for with its dynamic characters, rich descriptions of the world, and its refusal to shy away from brutality without revelling in it. Absolutely stunning!