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orionmerlin 's review for:
Boxers
by Gene Luen Yang
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Characters: 6.5/10
Bao starts strong—a sweet kid, underestimated, overlooked, and slowly overtaken by divine rage. His descent into zealotry had serious potential, but by the halfway mark, his arc turned more symbolic than human. I stopped seeing a person and started seeing a walking ideology in a god mask. His transformation lacked the nuance it needed to feel earned; it felt like Yang fast-forwarded the moral complexity to rush him into martyr-mode. And the side characters? Most felt like props—ideological signposts rather than real people. Don’t even get me started on the women. Mei-Wen is a ghost of a character (literally and narratively), and the female Red Lanterns barely register beyond “token fierce girls.” Emotional connections were shallow, and relationships were transactional at best. If anyone told me they remembered more than two character names a week later, I’d call their bluff.
Bao starts strong—a sweet kid, underestimated, overlooked, and slowly overtaken by divine rage. His descent into zealotry had serious potential, but by the halfway mark, his arc turned more symbolic than human. I stopped seeing a person and started seeing a walking ideology in a god mask. His transformation lacked the nuance it needed to feel earned; it felt like Yang fast-forwarded the moral complexity to rush him into martyr-mode. And the side characters? Most felt like props—ideological signposts rather than real people. Don’t even get me started on the women. Mei-Wen is a ghost of a character (literally and narratively), and the female Red Lanterns barely register beyond “token fierce girls.” Emotional connections were shallow, and relationships were transactional at best. If anyone told me they remembered more than two character names a week later, I’d call their bluff.
Atmosphere / Setting: 8/10
Yes, the world felt gritty and steeped in historical context, and yes, the blend of realism and mythology was visually stunning—but emotionally, the atmosphere started feeling repetitive. Every village looked like it was five minutes away from burning down, and the mood was perpetually grim with bursts of glorified violence. There's a fine line between immersive and numbing, and this book flirted with the wrong side more than once. The settings were rich, but they lacked variety. By the end, all battlefields blurred into the same tragic backdrop.
Yes, the world felt gritty and steeped in historical context, and yes, the blend of realism and mythology was visually stunning—but emotionally, the atmosphere started feeling repetitive. Every village looked like it was five minutes away from burning down, and the mood was perpetually grim with bursts of glorified violence. There's a fine line between immersive and numbing, and this book flirted with the wrong side more than once. The settings were rich, but they lacked variety. By the end, all battlefields blurred into the same tragic backdrop.
Writing Style: 7/10
Yang’s prose is serviceable, which sounds like a compliment until you realize this story deserved more. It’s clean, efficient, but almost too stripped-down. I wanted some texture, some flavor—something to match the operatic stakes of the story. The dialogue worked when it stayed grounded, but when the gods showed up and everyone started talking in capital letters and proclamations, it veered into melodrama. The balance between narration and art leaned a little too heavily on the visual to carry emotional weight that wasn’t fully there in the script.
Yang’s prose is serviceable, which sounds like a compliment until you realize this story deserved more. It’s clean, efficient, but almost too stripped-down. I wanted some texture, some flavor—something to match the operatic stakes of the story. The dialogue worked when it stayed grounded, but when the gods showed up and everyone started talking in capital letters and proclamations, it veered into melodrama. The balance between narration and art leaned a little too heavily on the visual to carry emotional weight that wasn’t fully there in the script.
Plot: 6.5/10
Here’s the thing: the idea of the plot is brilliant—a boy caught between cultural identity, colonialism, and divine madness? Yes, sign me up. But the execution? Pacing was a mess. The first act crawled, the middle tried to sprint, and the ending swan-dived off a cliff into poetic ambiguity with very little warning. Important beats felt undercooked, like Bao’s big decisions or sudden shifts in ideology. The book wanted to say something big about revolution, faith, and sacrifice, but it often just gestured at depth instead of really going there. I didn’t feel the tragedy—I recognized it. That’s a problem.
Here’s the thing: the idea of the plot is brilliant—a boy caught between cultural identity, colonialism, and divine madness? Yes, sign me up. But the execution? Pacing was a mess. The first act crawled, the middle tried to sprint, and the ending swan-dived off a cliff into poetic ambiguity with very little warning. Important beats felt undercooked, like Bao’s big decisions or sudden shifts in ideology. The book wanted to say something big about revolution, faith, and sacrifice, but it often just gestured at depth instead of really going there. I didn’t feel the tragedy—I recognized it. That’s a problem.
Intrigue: 7/10
I stayed interested, but not always emotionally invested. There were long stretches where I was just waiting for the next battle, the next vision, the next betrayal, and when it came, I wasn’t surprised—I was relieved something happened. The gods were cool, sure, but after their third dramatic entrance, the novelty wore off. The narrative’s momentum was staccato: moments of brilliance followed by extended periods of meh. I wasn’t skipping chapters, but I was side-eyeing the page count.
I stayed interested, but not always emotionally invested. There were long stretches where I was just waiting for the next battle, the next vision, the next betrayal, and when it came, I wasn’t surprised—I was relieved something happened. The gods were cool, sure, but after their third dramatic entrance, the novelty wore off. The narrative’s momentum was staccato: moments of brilliance followed by extended periods of meh. I wasn’t skipping chapters, but I was side-eyeing the page count.
Logic / Relationships: 5.5/10
Let’s be real: the logic here was hanging on by a thread made of myth and metaphor. Bao’s powers? Vaguely defined. The rules of the god-possessions? Who knows. Sometimes he glowed and kicked ass, sometimes he stood there looking confused while his life fell apart. Internal logic took a backseat to allegory. Relationships didn’t fare much better—character bonds felt shallow and rushed. I was supposed to care about Bao’s tragic disconnect from his childhood friend, or his brush with love, or his fall from grace, but I didn’t. Those arcs needed room to breathe, and Yang gave them just enough oxygen to wheeze.
Let’s be real: the logic here was hanging on by a thread made of myth and metaphor. Bao’s powers? Vaguely defined. The rules of the god-possessions? Who knows. Sometimes he glowed and kicked ass, sometimes he stood there looking confused while his life fell apart. Internal logic took a backseat to allegory. Relationships didn’t fare much better—character bonds felt shallow and rushed. I was supposed to care about Bao’s tragic disconnect from his childhood friend, or his brush with love, or his fall from grace, but I didn’t. Those arcs needed room to breathe, and Yang gave them just enough oxygen to wheeze.
Enjoyment: 6.5/10
I respected what Boxers was trying to do more than I enjoyed what it actually did. It was visually compelling, intellectually ambitious, but emotionally distant. I felt like I was being taught a lesson rather than told a story. It tried to juggle myth, history, and character—but ended up dropping a few too many balls. By the time I finished, I wasn’t shattered—I was mildly frustrated. I appreciated the craft, admired the intent, but didn’t love the journey.
I respected what Boxers was trying to do more than I enjoyed what it actually did. It was visually compelling, intellectually ambitious, but emotionally distant. I felt like I was being taught a lesson rather than told a story. It tried to juggle myth, history, and character—but ended up dropping a few too many balls. By the time I finished, I wasn’t shattered—I was mildly frustrated. I appreciated the craft, admired the intent, but didn’t love the journey.
Final Verdict: It’s like a beautifully drawn thesis paper—smart, bold, and just a little bit soulless. 6.9/10 overall.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Genocide, Gore, Violence, Murder, War
Moderate: Child death, Death, Racism, Sexism, Grief, Religious bigotry, Fire/Fire injury, Colonisation
Minor: Bullying, Cursing, Emotional abuse, Gun violence, Cultural appropriation, Alcohol
This book uses historical fiction and magical realism to explore the Boxer Rebellion, a violent anti-colonial uprising in China at the turn of the 20th century. It contains stylized depictions of violence and gods, blending spiritual possession with nationalistic fervor. The protagonist is a child who grows into a militant leader, and the story heavily features moral ambiguity, cultural conflict, and psychological decline. Despite being a graphic novel, it’s not light reading—it’s emotionally and thematically intense.