Brunch Book Review: “The Poppy War” by R.F. Kuang

The Poppy War, by R.F. Kuang

The Poppy War, by R.F. Kuang

R.F. Kuang’s The Poppy War begins as many fantasy novels do. It focuses on the challenges and ambitions of a much put upon young protagonist. In this case that much put-upon protagonist is an orphan of war, Rin (Runin Fang). Rin was adopted by almost universally awful in-law parents. They are anxious to marry the girl off, and collect a handsome dowry, as soon as they can. Both “parents” tend to utilize her as slave labor. She works in their store keeping the books, or takes care of her adoptive brother Kesegi. Kesegi is the only person in the family who cares about Rin, it seems. In addition to the chores her in-laws demand, Rin is studying for a test, the Kedju, which will get her into the realm’s premiere centers of learning. Success on this test is the key to a better life for an orphan being raised by hateful guardians. 

Needless to say, Rin passes the Kedju. Not only does she pass, she scores the highest score in her province and has earned a free trip to the most prestigious school in her world, Sinegard. Sinegard, depending on a student’s strengths, can train people in a variety of academic and military disciplines. Martial arts are a core component that everyone must train in. Sinegard is an academy that trains the leaders -- military, academic, political -- of the nation of Nikara. As the training ground of Nikara’s future leaders, everyone at Sinegard is obsessed with a small island nation called Mugen. Mugen is a consistent source of military trouble. It may be small but Mugen’s military is strong and capable. That is probably enough background to allow me to review the book for people who haven’t read the novel.

I started out quite enjoying The Poppy War. My interest and enjoyment flagged with almost every chapter. Especially after the Sinegard portion of the book ended and the “war” section of the book began. The book itself seems to begin showing a “Mulan/Brave/Cinderella” vibe. Young woman overcomes gaslighting in-laws, and class expectations is the basic story skeleton Kuang begins with. Quite abruptly she turns the book into a quite serious war novel. There is a spiritual subplot Kuang begins during Rin’s education at Sinegard. It involves the lost art of training and developing shamans. Shamans have special martial arts powers gifted to them by their relationship with Nikara's gods. With this thread, Kuang engages in her messiest storytelling. The gods can mostly only be accessed by consuming a variety of mind-altering drugs. It is hard to know what Kuang wants us to take from this situation. Rin and her allies will be ingesting quite a lot of drugs, some more serious than others (opium, heroin, mushrooms, and numerous nameless substances). The spirit world seems almost as dangerous as the drugs. The gods can take possession of the shamans’ bodies, or fuse personalities with shamans, or something. It’s all kind of confusing. Whatever the mechanics, a person’s individuality can be subsumed, unpleasantly, into the stronger personality of the god the shaman serves. More about that later maybe.

The cover of the book was well blurbed. It has garnered praise from critics at the Washington Post where it was, in 2018, rated one of the “top 5 science-fiction books of the year.”. A critic at Booknest said, “I have no doubt this will end up being the best fantasy debut of the year.” Wired magazine, called it, “…. this year’s Harry Potter.”

Needless to say, I don’t share any of these opinions. After seeing Rin’s resourcefulness, and kindness in her home village and her resolve at Sinegard, I liked her less and less as the chapters moved into the war story. Kuang seems to take every likable attribute of any character in the novel away from the reader. This leaves readers very little to hold on to. My interest in both the characters and their challenges diminished inversely with their increasing meanness. Rin, who begins the story strong, smart, and resourceful, devolves into a whiny, somewhat lovesick, increasingly stupid, and less than moral teenager. As this change happened, it became harder and harder for me to return to the novel. The challenge of returning to the book was made even more difficult by the depressing tone of the last part of the book. To be clear, Kuang leaves us with the following scenario at the end. The shamans can mostly only utilize the powers of the gods by becoming hopelessly addicted to hard drugs. The gods also don’t care about their champions or humans generally. They will do things for humans, but there always seems to be a price. The gods are assholes. The heroes are moody, morose assholes. The country this group of heroes fight for is very nearly lost to the forces of Mugen. Nikara is also led by a queen who commands total love, awe, and respect (she is a powerful shaman after all), but her chief mode of maintaining power is to betray her citizens and sacrifice them (and the occasional loyal soldier) to Mugen ambition. Strangely, this betrayal comes as a shock to Rin late in the book, despite the fact that at Sinegard Rin herself had reasoned that Nikara had sacrificed a whole people to affect peace with Mugen. “NO IT CAN'T BE” seems like a wrong-headed reaction from a person who has already deduced that her country would strategically make genocidal sacrifices.

After the novel’s Part One, I was never satisfied with any of the story elements. Many reviewers, both professional and amateur, commented on the epic world building Kuang does. Sadly, I did not see evidence of this. I was knocked out of the story over and over again by Kuang’s clear allegory. Kuang is dealing in the obvious and it detracts from the work. Nikara is China, Mugen is Japan. The Poppy War is the thinly allegorized history of the conflict, quite old, between Japan and China. Kuang clearly thinks Japan is the historical villain and makes this allegorical proxy as bad she can. Nikara (China) is the better half in this conflict (though not wholly great it has its social issues and civic challenges). Obvious allegory is maybe the worst thing a writer can do. The more obvious and heavy-handed the allegory, the more it denies the reader freedom to just appreciate a story as it is. Allegory can also damage the literary quality of timelessness. No matter where a writer sets an allegorical tale, it will always be about a specific time, a specific place, a specific event. A reader even mildly “up” on the allegorical subject matter will be unable to avoid said subject. For me, Kuang’s allegorical approach was simply too much. It also lacked nuance. Its allegorical Japan were almost horror show villains. The behavior of Japan’s government and military during WWII (and other times) has been far from wholly honorable, it’s true. But China also has its own fairly damning history of its own when it comes to authoritarianism, brutality, colonialism and Imperialism. The Poppy War sometimes felt like propaganda.

Added to this allegorical mixture is the fact that almost with each passing page, the likeable characters become more and more unlikable. Most of Rin’s school days nemeses become worse too. The net effect being almost no likable or relatable characters for almost two thirds of the book. That makes for some tough reading. 

The appreciation of art is pretty subjective. My reaction to the story elements may not be your reaction. There are no really mechanical flaws in the book. It’s solidly written. It’s not overly saccharine, though there is a love story that seems more YA than adult reading. But that could also just be me. I find most love stories in most genre and media to be annoying, badly conceived, and bizarrely simpleminded. They almost never seem to imitate the way real people fall in love. Tastes vary of course, as do experiences. So, if you like reading about awful people, and depressing conflicts in which no honorable or kind action or impulse is ever rewarded The Poppy War may be the book for you. Kuang herself has said she wanted to make something that would appeal to Game of Thrones fans. I’m absolutely sure she has done this. Full disclosure, I also detested Game of Thrones. The Poppy War is dark and depressing but it isn’t poignant, enlightening or insightful. Its villains are wicked, violent, awful and utterly without compassion, but so too are most of the book’s protagonists. In the right hands a depressing book can be a good and worthy read. In the wrong hands reading is an unpleasant slog.

6-7/10