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A review by perpetualpages
She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan
adventurous
dark
emotional
inspiring
sad
tense
medium-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
5.0
CWs: blood, graphic injury, dismemberment, mutilation, torture, murder, and violence; references to slavery and war crimes; misogyny, sexism, and sexist slurs; some ableist language; descriptions of contagious illness; physical abuse; infidelity; and some scenes containing explicit sex
(Adapted from the abbreviated review in my Instagram post.)
Let me level with you: I am still struggling to piece together the right words to describe how this book made me feel. The experience of reading it was so heightened and dynamic in a way I still can't fully explain. Regardless, She Who Became the Sun is a powerful story about the evolving, all-consuming nature of desire and about making fate a choice instead of a chance. It's a story that dares to ask: is destiny something we're born into or is it something we make for ourselves?
Her brother was prophesied to be legendary, but when he dies unceremoniously, our nameless main character takes up his name of Zhu Chongba and also his discarded fate of greatness, determined to make it her own. The denial of Zhu's desire is two-fold in this story. As someone raised to be a woman, she was told to discard not only her desire but also her autonomy since her life could only be "in service" of men and secondary to men. When she disguises herself as her brother and joins a monastery in order to avoid famine and death at the hands of the Mongols, she is once again told to discard her earthly desires because her life is to be dedicated in service to the heavens. What she wants and what she dreams for herself is not only secondary and discouraged, but forbidden; it is not to be borne.
But a life of service and obscurity is not good enough for Zhu. In so many ways, she is destined, by both fate and circumstance, to fail. A quiet and meaningless death is the best that she can hope for, and she simply *refuses* that fate. It's a story about Zhu reclaiming her agency in spectacular, dramatic fashion, defying everyone's expectations and fighting for her right not only to live, but to be powerful and to be *known* in every way that matters. It's a story about a character being told that she can't and she won't, and yet finding the courage to do those things anyways. And she succeeds, not because she's an all-powerful being, but because she is unprecedented—because the way she approaches things is different from the way things have always been done.
And in that sense, the story is very much about the power of difference. Zhu presents herself as a man, at first so that she can survive, but then also because she feels more aligned with masculinity and understands herself as someone who is definitely not a woman. She carries herself as a man, but the way that she is a man is inherently different than someone who raised to be a man, and that unique perspective is actually her secret weapon as opposed to a "weakness." Just by existing, she is reconciling so many different perspectives, and her true success comes from being able to understand the world through so many different lenses. For Zhu and other characters, sometimes those differences can be reconciled and sometimes the chasm that needs to be bridged is simply too great.
The story is also about Zhu struggling to balance what she wants to be versus what she thinks she's "supposed" to be. She thinks she's supposed to be a woman, she thinks she's supposed to be a monk, she thinks she's supposed to be exactly the kind of man that Zhu Chongba would have been if he had lived, she thinks she's supposed to be a symbol. But all of those warring expectations don't leave room for her to figure out who she is and what she wants. Does her desire come from someone else's definition of greatness or is she simply stronger and braver for going after an impossible dream that those before her would never even imagine for themselves? Grappling with a reality that exists both within *and* beyond those expectations is a major part of her journey throughout this book.
Ultimately, She Who Became the Sun is a story that asks what it looks like to know your worth and pursue it with every breath left in your body, even when the world is telling you a different story. It questions where we draw the line between selfishness and self-assuredness, and whether destiny actually renders us powerless or grants us the power to fight our way towards a predetermined finish line. Set against an epic and dramatic backdrop of war that is both historical and fantastical, this story is not just astonishing to behold, but it's also a beautiful, emotional, and intimate portrait of a character fighting for her right to exist against all odds. Looking back on this book, I feel a sense of gratitude for having bore witness to Zhu's journey, and I know this is only the beginning of what promises to be a truly incredible and unforgettable epic.
(Adapted from the abbreviated review in my Instagram post.)
Let me level with you: I am still struggling to piece together the right words to describe how this book made me feel. The experience of reading it was so heightened and dynamic in a way I still can't fully explain. Regardless, She Who Became the Sun is a powerful story about the evolving, all-consuming nature of desire and about making fate a choice instead of a chance. It's a story that dares to ask: is destiny something we're born into or is it something we make for ourselves?
Her brother was prophesied to be legendary, but when he dies unceremoniously, our nameless main character takes up his name of Zhu Chongba and also his discarded fate of greatness, determined to make it her own. The denial of Zhu's desire is two-fold in this story. As someone raised to be a woman, she was told to discard not only her desire but also her autonomy since her life could only be "in service" of men and secondary to men. When she disguises herself as her brother and joins a monastery in order to avoid famine and death at the hands of the Mongols, she is once again told to discard her earthly desires because her life is to be dedicated in service to the heavens. What she wants and what she dreams for herself is not only secondary and discouraged, but forbidden; it is not to be borne.
But a life of service and obscurity is not good enough for Zhu. In so many ways, she is destined, by both fate and circumstance, to fail. A quiet and meaningless death is the best that she can hope for, and she simply *refuses* that fate. It's a story about Zhu reclaiming her agency in spectacular, dramatic fashion, defying everyone's expectations and fighting for her right not only to live, but to be powerful and to be *known* in every way that matters. It's a story about a character being told that she can't and she won't, and yet finding the courage to do those things anyways. And she succeeds, not because she's an all-powerful being, but because she is unprecedented—because the way she approaches things is different from the way things have always been done.
And in that sense, the story is very much about the power of difference. Zhu presents herself as a man, at first so that she can survive, but then also because she feels more aligned with masculinity and understands herself as someone who is definitely not a woman. She carries herself as a man, but the way that she is a man is inherently different than someone who raised to be a man, and that unique perspective is actually her secret weapon as opposed to a "weakness." Just by existing, she is reconciling so many different perspectives, and her true success comes from being able to understand the world through so many different lenses. For Zhu and other characters, sometimes those differences can be reconciled and sometimes the chasm that needs to be bridged is simply too great.
The story is also about Zhu struggling to balance what she wants to be versus what she thinks she's "supposed" to be. She thinks she's supposed to be a woman, she thinks she's supposed to be a monk, she thinks she's supposed to be exactly the kind of man that Zhu Chongba would have been if he had lived, she thinks she's supposed to be a symbol. But all of those warring expectations don't leave room for her to figure out who she is and what she wants. Does her desire come from someone else's definition of greatness or is she simply stronger and braver for going after an impossible dream that those before her would never even imagine for themselves? Grappling with a reality that exists both within *and* beyond those expectations is a major part of her journey throughout this book.
Ultimately, She Who Became the Sun is a story that asks what it looks like to know your worth and pursue it with every breath left in your body, even when the world is telling you a different story. It questions where we draw the line between selfishness and self-assuredness, and whether destiny actually renders us powerless or grants us the power to fight our way towards a predetermined finish line. Set against an epic and dramatic backdrop of war that is both historical and fantastical, this story is not just astonishing to behold, but it's also a beautiful, emotional, and intimate portrait of a character fighting for her right to exist against all odds. Looking back on this book, I feel a sense of gratitude for having bore witness to Zhu's journey, and I know this is only the beginning of what promises to be a truly incredible and unforgettable epic.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Blood, Death, Murder, Torture, and Violence
Moderate: Misogyny, Physical abuse, Sexism, and Sexual content
Minor: Ableism and Infidelity