Hi loves, it’s so great to be writing again. I have actually been reading a lot during this pandemic, but I’ve been completing my Master’s in Transportation Engineering at the same time, so it has been really hard to find time to write blog posts!
Most recently, I finished The Empress of Salt and Fortune, a novella by Nghi Vo. I don’t know what it is about novellas, but I really enjoy them. I had an English professor who once said that shorter forms are distilled to only what is important, and I suspect that is appealing to my scientist brain.
I love Vo’s mastery of the basics. I love that instead of hitting us over the head with details, she gives us an outline, a shadow, and the chance to divine story from scraps. Another author published by Tor.com, her novella is comparable to those of JY Yang’s Tensorate series. Perhaps my bias toward the pithy is showing, but where Yang wanders in many directions in their series to reach that final toppling of empire, Vo is steadfast and unyielding to a singular goal.
There are a few other stories Empress reminds me of as well. In The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, Arundhati Roy employs a similar strategy of having a character with a disability whom we fall utterly in love with. I am assuming Sukai in Empress has a disability. He is described as “mov[ing] like a bucket on a rope, …tottering back and forth…He was not handsome, with a face that looked a bit like a proper face had been made out of wax and then heated and pulled very gently askew. (70)” And like Gulrez in Ministry, Sukai meets a tragic, early demise in the goings-on of a larger revolution. It cannot be a coincidence that both authors, writing about resistance, chose the same trope. During the Holocaust, along with Jews, people with disabilities were rounded up by the thousands for execution. Empire sees disability as imperfection, instead of the reflection of how vast a range humanity can have.
The way empress In-yo interacts with the other accessory wives reminds me of Nirvana in Fire and the many wives and courtesan wives of the courts. (I am going to do a terrible job of remembering their names and titles, having seen them only as translations, so my apologies for that). In Nirvana, Courtesan Jing’s rise parallels her son’s rise in favor with the emperor as a result of General Lin Shu’s assistance. Eventually, the emperor sends Courtesan Yue, his former favorite, to be exiled out of anger with her indulgence of her son. In Empress, it is In-yo who is exiled and humiliated, but not before beating Kaofan (the emperor’s favorite) quite squarely at her favorite game of chance. It is a moment of foreshadowing. The women of the Chrysanthemum Room find value in the minuscule ebb and flow of resources, gained at one another’s expense. In-yo’s end game is not a paltry material gain. Although she doesn’t hate Kaofan, the latter still understands there is something to be feared in someone as angry as In-yo.
I love Vo’s sense of humor. My favorite example of this is Rabbit’s explanation of Sukai’s name. She says, “The first name that his mother gave him was after the fashion of their people, designed to make him invisible in the eyes of malevolent spirits. It was Bucket…(68)”. Honestly, I am not opposed to the main love interest being referred to as “Bucket” throughout a story, though I suppose “Sukai” affords this adorable man some dignity.
In the end, the revolution is successful and the North invades the South. Cleric Chih finally uncovers the biggest secret of all in Thriving Fortune, and describes a feeling I know well. They say “I know what ambition feels like. This feels different. Like a weight around my shoulders, or a stone carried over my heart (117)”. And Rabbit responds “That must be duty, then. The Divine will be most pleased, Cleric Chih (118)”. And Cleric Chih returns to the capital, where the new Empress convenes court. And I? I wait to be vaccinated while a new president attempts to reestablish order.
Addicted To Possibility 