Mulan meets The Song of Achilles in He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan - a dazzling queer historical fantasy of war and destiny set in an epic alternate China, and sequel to Sunday Times bestselling She Who Became the Sun. A gender bent Mulan retelling sounded exactly up my alley, but as we keep seeing, perhaps retellings aren't for me. Despite that, I was rooting for her to win because compared to Ouyang and Baoxiang, she was considerably better. So elegantly and elaborately structured with the most beautiful and horrible cast of characters I have ever had the displeasure of becoming attached to. I will do my best to be non-spoilery in this review, and hopefully that’ll be quite simple, because a lot of what I have to say I can say in reasonably vague terms.

It shows us their brokenness, it shows us how fractured and desperate and damaged they are and asks us to root for them anyway.

All of the characters in this book are rich and complex providing unique perspectives on how pain, power, and grief can change a person. The story along with its dynamic characters will linger in my mind for days (probably even weeks) to come. Mulan meets The Song of Achilles in He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan - an epic queer historical fantasy of war and destiny set in an epic alternate China, and sequel to Sunday Times bestselling She Who Became the Sun. Perhaps we will stay away from "grimdark" as Parker-Chan rejects that genre categorization, as is their right, but OMG I have never read a grimmer, darker, more depressing book full of terrible people doing terrible things to one another. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to really immerse myself into this because it had been a while since I’d read SWBTS.

I would recommend this duology to someone who is used to Western fantasy and wants to change scenery, likes when books start very slow-paced and character-driven and get more and more complex the more you read and appreciates having some very dramatic scenes. He finds the secrets some of the great warriors keep indistinguishable from his own experiences and treatment. I really loved She Who Became the Sun, but He Who Drowned the World manages to outpace the first novel with an expanded POV cast, a tighter emotional core, and all the politicking and genderqueer dynamics that made the first novel so unique.

It was the delight of power mixed with play, as thrilling to her as the tang of brine in her nose and the hot wild wind that snapped her banners and sent the grass rushing and leaping down the hillsides. Paying equal attention to fierce battle scenes and deep conversations and filled with desperate decisions and brutal actions, this book is immersive and intimate. I disliked how muddied his characterization became, especially as it didn’t seem like this was done on purpose. On the plain the two generals inclined their heads in respect; conveyed and received the formal message of surrender; and withdrew. Zhu, who not only saw it but also considered herself generally immune to the urges of physical desire, was interested to feel a mild tug in response.

She is conniving because she has to be and she so desperately desires more of the world but her options and perceptions of her possibilities are limited. What respect does he lack from the world around him, for his manner, his appearance, his accomplishments? Zhu Yuanzhang, the Radiant King, is riding high after her victory - one that tore southern China from its Mongol masters.The Song of Achilles meets Mulan in He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan - a dazzling queer historical fantasy of war and destiny set in an epic alternate China, and sequel to Sunday Times bestselling She Who Became the Sun. My life has been fundamentally changed with this duology and I am just honoured that I got to experience it. Anyway, if the worst thing I can say about a book is that it brutalized my soul and made me seek the sun and, well, appreciate that I wasn't part of a court in imperial China, then you're probably good. She switched to one of the languages she’d learned in the monastery (but never practiced) and said very badly, “You can speak Uyghur, can’t you? The sunshine sawdust smell and the breeze flowing unchecked through the construction sites; the uncluttered sky that seemed bigger and bluer than anywhere else Zhu had lived: the possibility contained in all that newness thrilled her to her bones.