A review by toritoot
Empress of All Seasons by Emiko Jean
3.0
This book attempted to be an epic feminist tale, a sweeping romance, and an in-depth study on class and race, but ultimately did not succeed at any of these things.
This isn't me 'dragging' the book or making a mockery of it or telling the author she should give up writing. The author should not give up writing, the book isn't 'problematic' or offensive, and I wouldn't mock someone for pursuing their dreams. But the book is very flawed.
Let me admit here that I did not complete this book. I made it 2/3 of the way through before accepting that I just wasn't enjoying the story, and then I skimmed the last 1/3 to get an overview of the ending. This ultimately confirmed my feelings that there just wasn't anything in the book I cared enough about to make me want to finish.
But before I share my complaints, let me share my praises.
This books strongest point is it's use of Japanese culture and Yokai folklore. While I could not find any literature in my own personal research that talked about Animal Wives specifically, there appear to be enough Yokai that disguise themselves as women in order to lure men for the concept to work within the framework of the story. Once the main character makes her way to the city where the prince lives, there are a plethora of Yokai milling about, and new types are frequently introduced to the reader throughout the story. I also never struggled to understand or envision the world the author was building, and I would definitely say world-building is one of her writing strengths.
The book has little stories about the gods and goddesses of this world (wholly made up for the book, as far as I can tell) interspersed throughout, and truthfully, I probably enjoyed them more than I did the actual story. They were short and contained, wholly complete within themselves, and added immensely to the already well-done world building.
My favorite characters are Mara, Mara's mother (along with the rest of the Animal Wives), and Asami. If I'm being honest, Mara is a very bland character. I was admittedly engaging in a lot of projecting as the book does very little to develop Mara as a character once she leaves her home, but her quietness and lack of a strong personality played well on the page for me, and I always had a clear picture of just what type of 'person' she is. On the other hand, Mara's mother and the Animal Wives leave a strong and lasting impression on you as they are probably the most complex characters of the entire book. Asami is only in the book for a short while, and it's a shame as she adds a lot to the story, but for the time she's around, she's infinitely fascinating and also a missed opportunity for friendship for the female lead. Honorable mention goes to Hanako who's character is clear and straight-forward and subtly terrifying.
For my final bit of praise, I would say the best portion of the book is at the beginning while Mara is living with the Animal Wives. The conflict of the story is the most real, Mara as a character is strongest, and the goal of the story is at its most succinct and clear. You can see what the author is working towards, and it's a story you're interested in reading.
Unfortunately, this leads to my first complaint.
The over-arching story is a mess. The beginning of the book gives you the impression that the author has a clear vision for where she wants the story to go, but it becomes apparent 2/3 of the way through (where I ultimately chose to quit) that she's been trying to do too many things and isn't sure how to bring them all together. Before that point, I had honestly felt rather bored and uninterested in what was happening in the story anyway as there was very little tension or urgency. The last 1/3 of the book is nonsensical with multiple twist endings (like the film version of Return of the King but done poorly) that ultimately undoes much of what was built at the beginning of the book and leaves you unsure of just exactly how you're supposed to feel.
The rooms are utterly tame. I was expecting a plethora of dangerous animals and natural disasters; I was certainly expecting rows of imprisoned Yokai. But there's very little about these rooms worth fearing. No real threats, no real struggles, nothing to really terrify you. Every challenge is easily dealt with with some smarts and competent weapon use. And since Mari is an animal wife, she already has an advantage over the other competitors, so you really never fear for her life. Mari herself does very little in each room to make her seem worthy of conquering them. The best moments are when she uses her Yokai gift, but otherwise, she is unimpressive. And where are all of the competitors? We meet maybe three other named competitors (even though you would assume there are probably between 30-50 girls there to compete, if not more), and we spend so little time with each of them that even though they're fairly interesting, we learn next to nothing about them, and their deaths largely have no impact on the story. We might as well have never met them. This feels like a big missed opportunity, as there's a lot to mine in this sort of situation, especially one with such a strong feminist leaning. (It's also a missed opportunity for more gory deaths. I'm not a fan of gore, but in a story set around a set of rooms designed to kill those who enter, you would expect death to come up more often.)
The romance...is terrible; there's no way around it. The author tries to convince you that Mari is at least somewhat attracted to Taro, but it never feels like more than her placating him and questioning her reason for being there. And Taro. Wow. Woooooow. Too much, author. Tooooo much. We're halfway through the book, they still barely know each other, and yet Taro is already wanting to whisper sweet nothings into Mari's ear, and I don't understand Why. When you step back and take a close look at him, it becomes clear that Taro is really not even a character. He's just a shell for whatever the author happens to want him to be in that moment. First he's soft-hearted and creative, uncomfortable with his father's expectations and desperate for recognition. (This is where his character works best.) Then he's disturbingly enamored with Mari and having unnecessary daydreams about her. Then he's obsessive and manipulative and controlling. Then he's...sorry about it? Then he's dead. Wow. Such character growth. I don't know if the author was intentionally making him this inconsistent in order to make some sort of feminist point, but she didn't succeed.
Ultimately, this is a poorly crafted story. I'm sure others will enjoy it, and I don't begrudge anyone that, but I was left feeling disappointed as I love Japanese culture, and I love seeing it utilized in fiction. I guess this just wasn't the right fiction for me.
This isn't me 'dragging' the book or making a mockery of it or telling the author she should give up writing. The author should not give up writing, the book isn't 'problematic' or offensive, and I wouldn't mock someone for pursuing their dreams. But the book is very flawed.
Let me admit here that I did not complete this book. I made it 2/3 of the way through before accepting that I just wasn't enjoying the story, and then I skimmed the last 1/3 to get an overview of the ending. This ultimately confirmed my feelings that there just wasn't anything in the book I cared enough about to make me want to finish.
But before I share my complaints, let me share my praises.
This books strongest point is it's use of Japanese culture and Yokai folklore. While I could not find any literature in my own personal research that talked about Animal Wives specifically, there appear to be enough Yokai that disguise themselves as women in order to lure men for the concept to work within the framework of the story. Once the main character makes her way to the city where the prince lives, there are a plethora of Yokai milling about, and new types are frequently introduced to the reader throughout the story. I also never struggled to understand or envision the world the author was building, and I would definitely say world-building is one of her writing strengths.
The book has little stories about the gods and goddesses of this world (wholly made up for the book, as far as I can tell) interspersed throughout, and truthfully, I probably enjoyed them more than I did the actual story. They were short and contained, wholly complete within themselves, and added immensely to the already well-done world building.
My favorite characters are Mara, Mara's mother (along with the rest of the Animal Wives), and Asami. If I'm being honest, Mara is a very bland character. I was admittedly engaging in a lot of projecting as the book does very little to develop Mara as a character once she leaves her home, but her quietness and lack of a strong personality played well on the page for me, and I always had a clear picture of just what type of 'person' she is. On the other hand, Mara's mother and the Animal Wives leave a strong and lasting impression on you as they are probably the most complex characters of the entire book. Asami is only in the book for a short while, and it's a shame as she adds a lot to the story, but for the time she's around, she's infinitely fascinating and also a missed opportunity for friendship for the female lead. Honorable mention goes to Hanako who's character is clear and straight-forward and subtly terrifying.
For my final bit of praise, I would say the best portion of the book is at the beginning while Mara is living with the Animal Wives. The conflict of the story is the most real, Mara as a character is strongest, and the goal of the story is at its most succinct and clear. You can see what the author is working towards, and it's a story you're interested in reading.
Unfortunately, this leads to my first complaint.
The over-arching story is a mess. The beginning of the book gives you the impression that the author has a clear vision for where she wants the story to go, but it becomes apparent 2/3 of the way through (where I ultimately chose to quit) that she's been trying to do too many things and isn't sure how to bring them all together. Before that point, I had honestly felt rather bored and uninterested in what was happening in the story anyway as there was very little tension or urgency. The last 1/3 of the book is nonsensical with multiple twist endings (like the film version of Return of the King but done poorly) that ultimately undoes much of what was built at the beginning of the book and leaves you unsure of just exactly how you're supposed to feel.
The rooms are utterly tame. I was expecting a plethora of dangerous animals and natural disasters; I was certainly expecting rows of imprisoned Yokai. But there's very little about these rooms worth fearing. No real threats, no real struggles, nothing to really terrify you. Every challenge is easily dealt with with some smarts and competent weapon use. And since Mari is an animal wife, she already has an advantage over the other competitors, so you really never fear for her life. Mari herself does very little in each room to make her seem worthy of conquering them. The best moments are when she uses her Yokai gift, but otherwise, she is unimpressive. And where are all of the competitors? We meet maybe three other named competitors (even though you would assume there are probably between 30-50 girls there to compete, if not more), and we spend so little time with each of them that even though they're fairly interesting, we learn next to nothing about them, and their deaths largely have no impact on the story. We might as well have never met them. This feels like a big missed opportunity, as there's a lot to mine in this sort of situation, especially one with such a strong feminist leaning. (It's also a missed opportunity for more gory deaths. I'm not a fan of gore, but in a story set around a set of rooms designed to kill those who enter, you would expect death to come up more often.)
The romance...is terrible; there's no way around it. The author tries to convince you that Mari is at least somewhat attracted to Taro, but it never feels like more than her placating him and questioning her reason for being there. And Taro. Wow. Woooooow. Too much, author. Tooooo much. We're halfway through the book, they still barely know each other, and yet Taro is already wanting to whisper sweet nothings into Mari's ear, and I don't understand Why. When you step back and take a close look at him, it becomes clear that Taro is really not even a character. He's just a shell for whatever the author happens to want him to be in that moment. First he's soft-hearted and creative, uncomfortable with his father's expectations and desperate for recognition. (This is where his character works best.) Then he's disturbingly enamored with Mari and having unnecessary daydreams about her. Then he's obsessive and manipulative and controlling. Then he's...sorry about it? Then he's dead. Wow. Such character growth. I don't know if the author was intentionally making him this inconsistent in order to make some sort of feminist point, but she didn't succeed.
Ultimately, this is a poorly crafted story. I'm sure others will enjoy it, and I don't begrudge anyone that, but I was left feeling disappointed as I love Japanese culture, and I love seeing it utilized in fiction. I guess this just wasn't the right fiction for me.