Review: She Who Became the Sun
).png){kind=link}
She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This book took me into the life of a girl in a village left brittle by drought, and I found myself walking beside her as she set out on a path never meant for her. The future she chases is one she was never supposed to touch; almost every step she takes makes the ground beneath her shift. The world here is uncertain, with rules sliding away, and the weight of each decision presses down until I could almost feel it in my own chest.
Dust hangs in the air, and the sense of wanting, of needing, soaks into everything. Each day feels like a fight for survival, and I could not help but share in that need, page after page. The details linger: the dryness that cracks lips, the emptiness of wells, the hush that settles in spaces where hope once lived. Every choice seems to matter all the more when so little is left.
As historical fantasy, it offers rebellion and grit, but also moments when the characters stop to look inside themselves, far beyond mere action. The writing is sometimes tough and raw, other times it lifts into something almost bright, as if hope might bloom, even in hard ground. There are slower moments that let thoughts settle, though it never becomes dull. The story does not simply follow the old path of rising to power; it turns instead to the tangle of relationships, and the ways society shapes and binds every life. There is more meaning here than I ever expected.
The characters are as real as any I have met in stories, their desires tangled and half-known, their choices often uncertain. I watched them as they struggled with themselves, trying to settle on who they wanted to be, and in those struggles I saw larger questions of belonging and identity. Power is drawn with a careful hand, ambition laced with fear and hope, and I carried those feelings with me.
What struck me most was how the book blends history and queer experience without ever feeling forced. It speaks of fate, self-determination, and inequality with a light touch, letting each idea breathe. The language finds the right note, holding frustration, longing, and the small unfairnesses women live with, where their futures hang on chance or marriage, while men weigh status and legacy. These patterns are not just the stuff of story; they echo out into the present, and I found myself thinking about them long after. Even when the plot twists and turns, there is always a thread to follow, and the pieces come together before confusion can settle in.
The pace at the beginning is gentle, building the world and the characters with patience. It might seem slow at first, but the time spent pays off. I found myself caring more deeply, and when everything came together, it felt right. I was never bored; the emotions and insights kept me close.
This book had me questioning how desire and power really move between people, especially when the world seems set against them. It asks hard things about loyalty, queerness, and what it costs to want something more. There is a sweep to it that reminded me of books like The Poppy War, but with a quieter, deeper eye for what shapes a person inside.
If you have ever wanted a story of rebellion, fate, and characters who are more than their ambitions, this book leaves a mark. It is not a light read, but it is full of life, and there is a richness to its world and its questions that I will not forget.