At a superficial glance, «The Poppy War» looks like a collection of all conceivable cliches, both publishing and marketing, and purely literary. A young emigrant in the first generation (at the time of the publication of the novel, Rebecca Kuang was only twenty-two years old), an absurdly huge publishing advance figure for a debut, ethnic fantasy as a genre, a trilogy as a way of organizing a text and a strong heroine as its semantic core. In short, a standard set of all winning components from the point of view of the American market, in nine cases out of ten marking one hundred percent empty.
“I have no doubt this will end up being the best fantasy debut of the year [...] I have absolutely no doubt that [Kuang’s] name will be up there with the likes of Robin Hobb and N.K. Jemisin.” -- Booknest
Fortunately for the reader, «The Poppy War» is the tenth case out of ten and a wonderful (no other way to say) exception to all the rules.
The novel begins as the story of a poor but smart and courageous orphan named Rin from a distant southern province («The Poppy War» takes place in the fictional empire of Nikan, written off from medieval China), who decided - in strict accordance with genre expectations - to jump above her head and enter to a prestigious military academy. Needless to say, Rin's plan succeeds, and she joins the ranks of the elite who study martial arts at an educational institution similar to both Hogwarts and the monastery from Kung Fu Panda.
However, at the moment when the reader has already come to terms with the fact that he will have to get acquainted with the oriental (and much more rigid) version of Harry Potter, the plot paradigm is dramatically transformed. Nikan is attacked by the neighboring Mugen empire (Japan obviously served as its prototype), yesterday's cadets go to a bloody and completely different war from their training fights, and Rowling is replaced as a model and literary fundamental principle by Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. Together with his detachment, Rin protects a vital fortress from the Mugen, and in this defense it is easy to recognize the defense of Gondor from the third part of the Tolkien trilogy. Kuang does not hide the source of his inspiration and, in order to clearly indicate the allusion, uses direct quotes: for example, the heroic commander Rin makes a risky sortie beyond the walls of the city to save a wounded comrade - exactly like Gandalf, who saved Faramir from the orcs under the walls of Minas Tirith.
But that's not all. In the war, Rin discovers that powerful and terrible forces dormant in herself and in her closest associates, not completely subject to their carriers and having their own - mostly evil - will. Here, as you might guess, in «The Poppy War» an alarming theme from the "X-Men" or, if you like, "House of Peculiar Children" by Ransom Riggs begins to sound (it is no coincidence that the unit in which Rin serves is called "Weird Children"), and the general the color of the novel thickens from gloomy to impenetrably black.
It would seem that nothing good can be expected from a text assembled from three motifs worn to holes and decorated with Chinese exoticism on top. However, Rebecca Kuang manages to do the impossible - to turn a set of typical parts into a full-blooded, unique and exciting story. What any other author would have turned into a secondary and predictable craft, in her hands becomes a narrative both canonical and unexpected, logically coherent and emotionally filled. Pouring new wine into old wineskins, Kuang manages not to spill a drop.
And this, of course, proves once again that in relation to literature the famous principle of ten thousand hours of conscious practice, supposedly capable of ensuring success in any field, does not work. The only thing that distinguishes Rebecca Kuang from the legion of faceless young writers trying their hand at fantasy is her talent, which is not amenable to any precise weighing and measurement - big, original and bright. And, as the success of «The Poppy War» shows, it is quite enough to gracefully pass all the pitfalls of a budding writer and, on the first attempt, create a truly exciting novel from among those that we so often seek and so rarely find.
This article was sponsored by Homayon Tavakoli
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