I think 2024 is the year I fully realize that I’m deeply fond of speculative, character-driven science fiction. I loved how the vanished birds gives off a distinct feeling of negative space and technological minimalism that doesn’t distract from the characters’ interactions. it’s frankly impossible not to immediately buy into every relationship nia has ever formed. simon jimenez writes natural dialogue so easily it feels like reading a transcript of *real people* conversing, arguing, courting, etc. but not at the cost of world building—he can easily evoke beautifully sparse images of futuristic cities, natural environments, and different planets within the universe he’s imagined.
I do think the third act could’ve been a bit tidier and had a less abrupt transition, but it’s a small nitpick in the grand scheme of a heartwrenching story. at its core this is a found family, coming of age cosmic drama that reflects on the figurative and literal power of human connections and what ordinary, but conflicted, people are willing to do to preserve them.
content warnings:genocide, mentions of rape/sexual assault (off-page), injury detail/body dismemberment, torture, self-harm (burning), menstruation (period pain), animal death
I feel like I shouldn’t have liked this as much as I did, all triggers and objectionable morals considered. this is one of those series that should be touted as a “revenge” epic and shouldn't be recommended or gifted lightly—let's promise to have some due diligence when researching a new adult historical fantasy to read going forward, please!
the first half is a lot stronger than the last—the academic setting of sinegard is so entertaining and the relationships rin formed there felt natural and built on pretty solid foundations. then the actual war ensues, and I felt some of my good will slipping. there’s a lot of telling via narration/simple dialogue than showing that I couldn’t help notice, but I can’t fault rebecca kuang for trying anyway to write a debut this ambitious.
there are lots of side characters with potential to become big personal faves, but I couldn’t take rin’s idolization of altan seriously. he seemed interesting at first, then came off as an overcompensating cog of a military empire forced to command the most ill-equipped division of nikan—not a “complex martyr”. the idea of a young, broken commander with a survivor complex IS interesting, but the execution was confusing and didn’t feel handled with the best care, so any time spent with altan gave me whiplash.
I’m conflicted about the ending and whether rin as the amoral lead actually buys into the Great Lie she’s told to live by after her finale moment. there is a larger discussion that might be due on the use of an alternate history angle of the sino-japanese wars, but I’m neither confident nor have a degree in chinese history like kuang to interpret her literary intentions here. on first pass, historically accurate and graphic details ARE there, but that’s just it—they’re spelled out plainly because the atrocities are too awful to ignore or wave away, but to me weren’t necessarily utilized in a way worth getting fired up about. just because crimes against humanity are depicted on the page of a story doesn’t automatically cheapen the narrative and its overall message. there are other alternate history stories out there that would deserve more time and energy to criticize if that were true.
I sense an impending madness arc (which I’m down for!), and even if rin’s refusal to give any benefit of doubt is giving me whiffs of plot armor I’ll reserve full judgment until I read book two. I don’t think I’ve read the final act of a fantasy novel where I could physically feel my eye twitching, but I’m too curious about rin’s fate and care too much about kitay and jiang to stop here.