A review by mesal
Blood Over Bright Haven by M.L. Wang

challenging dark emotional tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

Blog review here!

M.L. Wang’s upcoming novel stands at the intersection of several genres. Blood Over Bright Haven is in part dark academia, presenting magic as a field of research where one can excel and climb up the ranks if they study hard enough. It is in part gaslamp fantasy, with a setting that relies heavily on corsets and petticoats and the traditional gendered separation of public and private spheres in society. In part, the novel is the hybrid genre of science fantasy, with mathematical and scientific principles forming the foundation for the magic system the author has created. Far from generating a disjointed narrative, though, all these genres work together very well, crafting a gripping tale of exploitation, tragedy, and the corruptive nature of power that had me at the very edge of my seat until the final page.

Intersectionality also makes up the heart of Blood Over Bright Haven's narrative. To one of the main characters of the novel, academia is “a man’s world.” That isn’t to say she wants to stay away from the field; conversely, being a researcher at the topmost rung of the ladder is everything Sciona Freynan has ever wanted. Traversing hostile environments is something Sciona does regularly in her pursuit of both knowledge and greatness, and the interactions she has with the people around her—almost all men, almost all resentful of her presence among them—inform her perception of the world. Sciona believes that if she can just break past the barrier forbidding women from being accepted into the High Magistry, she will be able to change not only her own life but also the lives of all female research mages that come after her.

What she doesn’t realize until much, much later is that not all women are given the opportunity to study for positions as research mages in the first place. The novel is set in a land where two peoples reside: the first are the indigenous tribes of the Kwen, the second the Tiranish settler colonizers that have built their homes on stolen land. Every Kwen tribe faces the risk of extinction: an evil called the Blight stalks them, unseen, unheard, striking people when they least expect it and taking their lives in a flash of light that devours their bodies in seconds. The only safe place is the city of Tiran, where a magic-fuelled barrier protects both settlers and Kwen not only from Blight but also from the cold of winter. Kwen tribes are often faced with the unpleasant decision of either staying where they are or risking the dangerous passage to Tiran over the frozen lake around it, an area known to be the Blight’s favorite haunt. Those who survive the passage do not always survive life in Tiran, though: all Kwen are expected to work long, arduous hours in exchange for being allowed inside the city, a mandate that spares no man or woman, child or elderly person. Pursuing an education or practicing their own religion are freedoms prohibited to them; unlike the Tiranish, the only way for Kwen to step foot inside Sciona’s beloved University of Magics and Industry is as janitors and cleaning staff—which is what our second main character, Thomil Siernes-Caldonn, happens to be when he meets Sciona for the very first time.

If the man of good intentions never manifests a river, only calamity, should he not go to hell?

While the topics the author has chosen to focus on in her novel aren’t particularly unique to fiction—writers have been incorporating themes of intersectionality, racism, imperialism, and colonization into their works since long before the phrase “the Empire writes back” was coined—Wang has integrated these topics so well into her fantasy setting that there is no separating one from the other. What I found to be an infinitely more interesting aspect of the novel was the Kwen stance on morality and the afterlife. During one of Thomil and Sciona’s regular philosophical and scientific discussions while at work in her lab, the two touch upon the Kwen belief system and how it differs from the two major Tiranish ones. To Sciona, a man’s intentions are enough to judge his worth, for God to decide whether he belongs in Heaven or Hell. To Thomil and the rest of the Kwen, however, no amount of good intentions can balance out a man’s actions and his impact on the world. It doesn’t matter if he meant well; what matters is if he also did well. All attempts at innovation with the honorable intention to make people’s lives better are therefore, according to Thomil’s perspective, moot if they harm more lives than they help. This difference in the perception of right and wrong is one instance that speaks to Wang’s prowess in worldbuilding down to every seemingly minor detail, but worldbuilding isn’t Wang’s only intention here. What seems to be a throwaway conversation meant only to imbue Thomil and Sciona’s working relationship with tension and mistrust later turns into a number of questions for the readers to ask themselves as the story progresses: which of the characters can actually be considered good people? Which of them are bad? Who deserves to go to Heaven, and who to Hell?

Although I ended my read very much satisfied with it, its first chapter left me uncertain with my expectations. The novel begins with Thomil’s point of view as he and his tribe attempt the treacherous crossing into Tiran. Such high stakes and intense emotion make for an unusual starting point to a story, especially considering how the next chapter features a ten-year time skip and a complete shift to Sciona’s point of view for the next several chapters to come. This first chapter appears then to be more of a prologue than the solid launch of a narrative. It took me a significant amount of reading to understand this choice on the author’s part. At her essence, Sciona is an unreliable narrator: she knows little of her own city beyond the university and her aunt’s home, and she has bought into the propaganda every Tiranish citizen is fed regarding the treatment of Kwen both within and outside the Kwen Quarter. Thomil’s initial chapter serves to show readers the truth of Tiranish discrimination against the Kwen, allowing them to walk into Sciona’s oblivious perspective better informed than she is and therefore able to see beyond her ingrained biases to understand Thomil’s offhand remarks about his situation. Wang isn’t trying to make facts about Thomil’s life a mystery to readers, plot twists that they will discover if only they read on. Far from it: racism and mistreatment of Kwen natives are aspects of her novel integral to the storyline, and only with that information in hand will readers recognize the themes Wang wishes to highlight from the get-go.

Our main characters are skillfully crafted and their relationship to each other managed well. Sciona’s arc is handled with competence despite its complexity, making her viewpoints and decisions entirely reasonable in the context of her determined and curious nature. Thomil, though with fewer chapters to his name, presents as a convincing counterpart to his new boss, and the glimpses we get into his priorities through his carefully worded comments to Sciona show how observant he is even though he endeavors to appear uneducated and nonthreatening.
One of my favorite parts of the novel was when Thomil innocently asked Sciona why she wouldn't work together with her colleagues. If the purpose of her project with the barrier expansion was to help the people of Tiran, why wouldn't she pool resources with Cleon Renthorn and present the best possible proposal for the project? Why insist upon working alone to get the credit herself? Sciona was naturally horrified by this line of questioning and assumed Thomil was too ignorant to know better, but I will forever remember his iconic takedown of academia and its traditions of greed and selfishness.
Sometimes he slips up and mistakes Sciona’s kindness for friendship, only to be met with her willful blindness to the atrocities committed by her people against his on a daily basis; every attempt he makes to really talk to her leaves him taking back his words and retreating further into himself, afraid that anything else he says will capsize the careful balance he and his only remaining family have managed to find in this hostile city.

The novel being plot-heavy and purposeful, working a fast pace towards its ending, left little room for properly fleshed out side characters. Many of these characters felt two-dimensional, caricatures serving only to emphasize the novel’s message.
I fully understand the reasoning behind the Alba reveal, for instance, but it came about so suddenly that I was left with a certain measure of disbelief over whether she would really act in such a manner in front of her cousin. If there's anything I learned from Atticus Finch, it's that even the seemingly kindest of souls can believe themselves superior to others solely based on the color of their skin, so Alba prioritizing herself over hundreds of thousands of Kwen isn't unrealistic at all; I just wish it had been presented better./spoiler> I wonder how much of this lack of characterization can be accounted for through the knowledge that Blood Over Bright Haven was originally planned as a novella, and the story only expanded to the length of a full novel over the course of editing it. Even if this fact is disregarded, there are moments where characterization and worldbuilding do not feel harmonious. A furious Sciona being asked by a male colleague whether it was her time of the month, for example, feels out of place in a setting where discussing women’s bodies is considered taboo—so much so that Sciona feels uncomfortable with the mere idea of mentioning aloud that she’s returning to the lab from a bathroom break.

Bear in mind that this review is of an advanced copy of the book, and Blood Over Bright Haven may undergo more editing before its official publication, set for July 25 of this year. It is an excellent, excellent read, and fans of dark academia, intricately described magic systems, or Babel by R.F. Kuang should keep an eye out for this novel—or, alternatively, preorder it here.

Thank you to the author for providing me with an ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed above are my own.