I loved Phoenix Extravagent. The story didn’t go at all like I expected it to, but it’s still well foreshadowed and all of the characters had great motivation for their actions. I didn’t really know anything about the Korean-Japanese war before I read this book, but I finished the book and ended up reading more about it because of how well written this book was. Readersnwho know more about the historical setting of this book should still enjoy Phoenix Extravagent; possibly even more with a greater grounding in the setting.
This book was emotionally complex, but somehow remained light. The themes running through it of cultural genocide, racial divides, the morality of war, what makes us human and the value of art are undoubtedly heavy ones; but Jebi and Arazi were such joyful characters that the book never felt weighed down by its heavy content matter. To me, Phoenix Extravagant is exactly what science fiction and fantasy should be: using outlandish elements to explore real-world issues in an in-depth way that, without the softening effects of magic or futuristic touches, would be tragic, dry or politically fraught.
The plot of Phoenix Extravagent was fast moving and fascinating, and I loved the intricate world-building touches woven into the dialogue and scene descriptions that helped the setting and magic/political system of the world come fully to life. There was no cliff hanger in this book, though there was a threat presented at the last moment that makes me think a sequel to Phoenix Extravagant could in the works—something I would be extremely happy about.
The representation in this book was another high point. I think this is the only book I’ve read with multiple non-binary characters. Sexual minorities were also represented well, even a happy polygamous marriage was included—something I believe I’ve only seen previously in GL Carriger’s San Andreas Shifters series. The casual representation (plot points don’t revolve around any character’s identity, nor is anyone’s gender/sexuality discovered or revealed during the course of the novel) was greatly appreciated.
Jebi was a great main character, and I loved that their calling to art flavoured the way they experienced and described the world. Arazi was a hilarious and touching character, and Vei was an amazing grounding force for them both. The multiple family relationships were also incredibly written. Bongsunga and Jebi’s interactions were thoroughly believable, and Vei’s parents are incredible characters in their own right—I truly hope there are more books so they can get some more time to be explored. I’d also love to learn more about Jia in any hypothetical future books.
The artists and the community they lived in was a fascinating set-up, and the mythological interpretation of the moon was charming. Automatons as a way to explore sentience and morality is always amazing, and I loved the idea of a calligraphy-based magic. This book is unique and amazing, and any fans of richly detailed fantasy and Yoon Ha Lee’s previous work will find something they enjoy in Phoenix Extravagant. I believe the book would also appeal to fans of Ilona Andrews’ Kate Daniels series, Ian Irvine’s Well of Echoes quartet, Samantha Shannon’s Priory of the Orange Tree, or RF Kuang’s Poppy War.

This was absolutely wonderful.

Having read the Machineries of Empire, which I describe as a New Weird space opera, I was expecting the same kind of mind twisting here. Don't get me wrong, I *like* New Weird, so I wouldn't have been upset, but I was nevertheless surprised by how easy to read this was.

This book is set in a thinly disguised secondary world version of Korea, occupied by a thinly disguised secondary world Japanese Empire. The protagonist is Jebi, a not-Korean artist just trying to get buy. They've learned not-Japanese and adopted not-Japanese mannerisms and even taken a not-Japanese name, to make it easier to get work. (Non-gendered pronoun use is deliberate: Jebi is non-binary, which their culture is fine with and the not-Japanese occupiers are just kinda baffled by.) All of this infuriates their sister, who's late wife died fighting the not-Japanese invasion.

Jebi hears of a job offer from the not-Japanese Ministry of Armor, responsible for producing weapons, armor, and, most importantly, the magically powered soldier and tank automata constructs that made the conquest of not-Korea so easy. They're offered a job painting the magical glyphs that make these constructs work ("offered" in the sense of "the secret police know where your sister lives" kind of offer). Once they've accepted this kind offer, they find out what their assignment is: the Ministry is having trouble with the automata dragon they've constructed, and it's Jebi's job to find the problems in the controlling glyphs and correct them.

Now, automata are made to be mindless, mute golems, executing their instructions perfectly. But while working on fixing the dragon's glyphs, he secretly adds the glyphs that will give the dragon a voice.

What follows is a truly wonderful story of many different kinds of love. The love of Jebi for art, the love between Jebi and their sister, the inconvenient love that Jebi develops for a high-ranking Ministry member, and what might possibly be my favorite love between person and dragon outside of Hiccup and Toothless.

But this isn't a light-hearted book by any means. Colonialism is a heavy theme, and cultural erasure. Yoon Ha Lee managed to upset me in a way that no book has really ever been able to, when Jebi learns the secret behind the pigment used to make the glyphs. Yoon, if you happen to read this, that was seriously upsetting. Loyalties are tested all over the place, and the line between good guys and bad guys gets more than a little blurry in places.

One thing this is *not* is a book about trans rights. Jebi's non-binary gender identity is simply an accepted part of who they are. No struggles for acceptance. This is neither a feature or a bug: stories about that kind of struggle are important, but stories showing non-binary as a normal and accepted part of society are valuable as well.

I'm not sure if this book will have a sequel or not. It doesn't need one: the story ends on a perfect note as far as I'm concerned, but Yoon left themselves room for one. I kind of hope there isn't a sequel, honestly. This book was wonderful all on its own.

Overall, I really enjoyed Phoenix Extravagant. I found the world to be both immersive and interesting. I really enjoyed the variety of LGBTQ+ and non-traditional relationship representation in this novel and found the characters on a whole to be lovely. I will say that Arazi, the dragon, really stole my heart though. It's both funny and philosophical. I loved reading its musings on the world. I do have two points of criticism though. My first is that the story pacing at the beginning was quite slow. I would have liked to push the events in the book forward by about twenty percent. I also found the explanation about how the magic system worked to be quite lacking. I would be interested in learning the parameters about how it works. However, I would say that this is a great read for someone interested in a silkpunk adventure with talking dragons and LGBTQ+ representation.

Phoenix Extravagant is a fascinating book, filled to the brim with worldbuilding and trope-breaking fantasy wonder. The characters feel real, motivated by inner desires and goals. The world expands slowly, as Yoon Ha Lee allows the reader to glimpse more and more of the scenario he's created. The ending threw me a little; I'm not sure what is real and what is fantasy, which could be said of the story as a whole. Definitely a book worth reading.

Review will go live on website & Instagram on May 26th
Will update feedback with instagram link on that date
Review is already up on Goodreads
__________
Gyen Jebi isn’t a fighter or a subversive. They just want to paint.

This tagline from the synopsis really drew me into Phoenix Extravagant and I love how consistent this premise remains throughout the entire story.

Jebi is an unemployed artist who is looking for work and ends up being recruited by the Ministry of Armor. This is not the job that Jebi had hoped for themself, but they are unable to refuse. Within the Ministry of Armor, Jebi paints sigils onto the automatons to bring them to life. But as their work continues, Jebi starts to notice that something suspicious is happening. With the help of a charismatic dragon automaton, Jebi is thrown into the world of politics and rebellion despite their hesitation.

This was a really fun and interesting read for me. I had just finished reading a series of very dark and violent fantasy novels, so Phoenix Extravagant was a nice break from that. I loved Yoon Ha Lee’s take on colonialism and war through the perspective of an artist. Phoenix Extravagant seems to pull from the Japanese occupation of Korea. I really enjoyed this take on an “asian-inspired” fantasy. It was a unique and engaging perspective. A lot of asian-inspired fantasy as written by white folks draws on stereotypes, particular periods (so much Japanese feudalism), or vague handwaving, so it was great to read an asian-inspired fantasy novel written by a Korean-American.

I really liked Jebi as a character. I loved how they were unaware or had very basic knowledge of a lot of political happenings. It felt realistic within the frame of the character. Jebi is an ordinary person. Jebi is extremely focused on their art, so when they fall into a situation that puts them in the middle of a lot of politicking, they are completely out of their depth.It was refreshing to follow a character who didn’t know exactly what was going on or why. Sometimes protagonists are too competent in too many different areas.

I loved how Jebi didn’t always make the best choice, how sometimes their stubbornness was misplaced, and how sometimes they were irrationally paranoid. All these factors contributed to making Jebi feel like an ordinary, if eccentric, person. Jebi is also a very empathetic character, so I really loved how they became involved in the world of politics and rebellion by connecting emotionally with the automaton dragon Arazi.

And of course, one of my favourite parts was that the book is set in a very queer friendly world. There were queer marriages, non-binary folks, and polyamory. And I loved how certain things like haircuts were codified to show that a character likely had a certain identity. It reflected my experience in the lgbtq+ community. When Jebi gives another non-binary character the little nod of acknowledgement I pointed at the line and exclaimed to my wife “look! It’s the gay nod!”

Overall, I really enjoyed Phoenix Extravagant. Yes, there were some aspects I didn’t love and the ending left me torn, but it was still a really enjoyable read with interesting world building and a driving plot.

From Goodreads:
Great Cover.
Set in an occupied country that I really wanted to know better than I got to.
Struggled with characters a bit - never really got to know or like many of them.
Entertaining story - but felt I was always looking for just that little bit more.
Use of 'they' pronoun was annoying and distracting at first - but got over that.
A fun read.
BUT
The dragon is magnificent!!!!!!

Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee is a fantasy set in a world going through internal struggle and insurrection, where automatons are used - usually as guards, but there is also a dragon automaton built for war. Gyen Jebi (a non-binary artist) finds themself seconded to the Ministry of Armor to help paint the magic infused masks used on automatons to drive behaviour and intelligence.

It's told in the third person and exclusively follows Jebi, as they win a rapport with the dragon and Vei, the Ministry of Armor's Duelist prime. Even through there is no detailed explanation as to how some things work, the descriptions of the different pigments (Phoenix Extravagant being one of the rare and potent ones) and processes used to mix and paint glyphs and sigils to drive automatons behavior is intriguing and very readable.

So is the relationships between Vei and Jebi, their sister Bongsunga and the dragon Arazi, as Jebi struggles with the results of some their decisions and where their allegiances lie. It's also funny at times, poking fun at artists and their sometimes eccentric behaviour, and Jebi's sometimes not-so bright decisions.

One issue I did find however was that by using "they", "their" etc. to Jebi being non-binary, often reading passages I had to double take at times to make sure who was being referred to. Even for instance is the first line in my third paragraph above - "their sister Bongsunga" - is she Jebi and Vei's sister, or just Jebi's? Things like this happened quite a lot and while it wasn't a major issue, it was a bit distracting especially at the start. I also thought if Jebi was a she or he it would have made little difference overall; gender really didn't impact the story at all, but it may have made it a bit more readable.

Anyway apart from that digression Phoenix Extravagant was quite an impressive, well-paced and original story - and has a great cover.

Just look at his cover - magnificent, isn’t? Dragons are cool, but automatic dragons are something else. 

Phoenix Extravagant, set in a fantasy version of Korea during the Japanese occupation, revolves around politics, war, and rebellion. Instead of showing the conflict through the eyes of devious politicians or fighters, it follows Gyen Jebi, a non-binary painter destined (or rather maneuvered) to shift the scales of the conflict. A delightful change from the smash and bang seen often in occupation narratives. Gyen wants to paint, and they care little about politics or war. 

The Empire of Razan conquered Hwaguk and transformed it into Administrative Territory Fourteen. Gyen’s sister, Bongsunga, has revolutionary ties. She feels betrayed when her sibling registers for Razanei name, hoping it’ll allow them to secure a job. Jebi accepts an offer from the Razan government’s defense sector. His job involves reducing classic Hwagugin artworks to magical pigments necessary to program the behaviors of automata used to control the populace. A neat magical system. Without getting into details, Gyen ends up teaming up with a mecha dragon against the government. 

The world, while inspired by history, is extravagant, atmospheric, and mysterious. The book tackles the theme of colonialism and various forms of response from colonized nations (resistance, acceptation, partial assimilation). As mentioned before, politics happen in the background but influence Jebi’s life to the point where they can’t remain impartial. The choices they face and erratic actions they make pulled me through the novel. 

While they unravel the mysteries surrounding recent massacre, they grow involved with the lives of a sizable cast of characters, including Arazi - a sentient mecha dragon. Gyen’s actions are never thought-out. They react on impulse and often finish in even bigger troubles. 

Lee does a fine job breathing life into each of the protagonists, imbuing them with hidden depths that slowly reveal over the course of the book. That said, Gyen’s relationship with Vei felt slightly forced. I didn’t feel any chemistry between them. In contrast, Gyen and Arazi banter made me regularly smile. 

Even though I liked the book, it has a few downsides. First, it’s somewhat predictable. Second, the climax of the book moves at jet speed but it doesn’t resolve all conflicts, and I would expect a stronger closure from a book marketed as a standalone. 

Despite its stumbles, Phoenix Extravagant was well worth the time spent reading it. It’s fun and entertaining. I wouldn’t mind seeing more entries in this well-crafted world. The open (sort of) ending gives hope Arazi will return. Fingers crossed.

Yoon Ha Lee's first novel outside his Hexarchate setting, a switch from SF to fantasy. And just as the genre's default setting has long been a veiled and reworked mediaeval Europe, here we're in a not-quite-Korea, Hwaguk, occupied by not-exactly-Japan, Razan. Also, it's not the middle ages; the occupation has brought electrification and automobiles, among other changes – including automata patrolling the streets, because after all, this is still a fantasy. Not an especially pronounced one, at first; aside from the automata, somewhere between robots and golems, early on the only major difference we see is that Lee hallmark, a shapeshifting fox spirit, whose socialising with the occupying regime is not treated with the opprobrium anyone else's might be, because people are generally happier with the idea that she might eat the occupiers' livers than anyone else's. In the opening chapters, the aspect I found most interesting was this rare nuance applied to the treatment of life in an occupied country, where everyone has their own idiosyncratic notions of what's acceptable, and understanding other people's can be a struggle. Take the protagonist, Jebi; they're fine with getting an alternate name in the invaders' language to smooth interactions with the regime – something they're reluctant to tell their much more hardline sister, whose wife died in the invasion. Even fine with applying for a job at the Ministry of Art. But working for the Ministry of Armor? No, that's a bridge too far, and while their own name is not such a big deal, they're deeply reluctant to use the new official name for Hwaguk – Administrative Territory Fourteen.

Inevitably, those boundaries get pushed, because if there's one thing Lee likes more than foxes, it's weaving his characters into a predicament bondage of lust, loyalties and unpalatable alternatives. We learn more about the magic which animates the automata, and it's truly horrible to read about, while also being a perfect literalisation of the way in which a colonial power assimilates and consumes the culture of the colonised. At the same time, the more we see of the resistance, the clearer it becomes that they're every bit as guilty as the Razanei of the besetting sin of, in Terry Pratchett's immortal phrase, treating people as things, means to an end. But more than that – as with the Hexarchate's treatment of their robots, the magic system and the automata also evoke a profound unease even with treating some things as things. What's missing, though, is Machineries' guilty fascination with people who find purpose in being treated as things. Yes, Phoenix Extravagant definitely gripped me more once it started moving more into the spectacularly fucked-up emotional terrain I recognised from Machineries – a strangely/inevitably physical relationship with the other voice in one's head, duelling as flirtation, a passionate affair seemingly founded in Stockholm syndrome with someone who's done terrible things both to your country and far closer to home. But it never got its claws into me in quite the same way the Hexarchate stuff did. Those books had a setting which was in some ways difficult to grasp, but which was still suggested very powerfully by Lee's way with words – something which finally clicked for me when I learned that he has aphantasia, so never quite pictures things in the mind's eye. In Machineries, that wasn't the problem you might expect for an SFF author, because the language was so wonderfully crafted to imply it all – I couldn't tell you what cindermoths or threshold winnowers look like, but thanks to those names, I know them. Here, there's not the same fascinatingly incomplete information, because I can picture the general lineaments of humanoid automata, even of the bloody great mechanical dragon on the cover, without them feeling anything like as strange or new. The world just isn't as thick, doesn't have the same sense of having percolated in the author's head for a decade or more before finally being revealed in all its creepy power to the reading audience.

None of which should suggest this is a bad book – it's not, it's just difficult for any writer to follow up a debut series which was quite as much of a revelation as Machineries of Empire. The magic is intriguing, its close relationship to art and the central importance of grammars harking back to that word's etymology, and art's origins, and recalling a previous Eastwards-looking retooling of fantasy assumptions, Daniel Abraham's classic Long Price quartet. Lee's ability to pick exactly the right words to suggest things horribly well is still here in places, not least in the espionage agency's name, the Ministry of Ornithology. Hell, there are even the obligatory prescient scenes resonant with lockdown life, when Jebi finds themselves confined to an underground complex, reduced to taking trips to the surface for sunlight every few days. I like the casual, natural inclusion of non-binary characters and non-monogamous relationships, without the way those operate being a straight (ha!) transplant of the contemporary version. I enjoyed the way the set-up subtly chides all those well-meaning woke Westerners who've turned reassessment of historical injustice into self-indulgent self-flagellation, and think colonialism and dumb assumptions about other cultures are exclusively white failings; there's a wonderful running joke about Jebi's cluelessness regarding the world outside Hwaguk and its nearest neighbours, and in particular their scepticism of the travellers' tales suggesting some Westerners have red hair. Above all, I was very fond of that dragon, whom cover notwithstanding I found myself picturing as a giant terrifying robot Toothless. But ultimately, and I'm sure this is something Lee and his characters would understand, Phoenix Extravagant was just a little too straightforward for me to love.

(Netgalley ARC)

Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee- A dream of a book, mostly fantasy but with science fiction elements as well. Gyen Jebi has always wanted to be an artist, a painter in their Asian-like country in some future or past beyond our time. Their country is currently occupied by a military force from a neighboring land that rules with a harsh hand. Jebi is maneuvered by forces unknown into the Ministry of Armor, and tasked with painting the face-plates on a large metal dragon with paints that possess magical powers to give the war machine directions and restrictions. Of course, Jebi has other ideas. They gift the dragon with a separate set of thought, awareness, and speech. And that's just for starters! This book was a real pleasure to read as everything I've read from Yoon Ha Lee has been. I felt that even though the main character is in their late twenty's, their naivety and sheltered upbringing made this more of a young adult novel- nothing wrong with that. There are deaths and a suggestion of sex, but it felt like YA to me. I know there will be more to come with this story and I'm looking forward to it. Thanks to Netgalley for giving me this ARC.

I enjoyed this fantasy novel a lot, and it is interesting because it compares well to a recent book I read which had Eastern mythological underpinnings. When reviewing that, I was uneasy about what felt like a relatively generic take on a certain kind of martial arts, Chinese mythology whilst the central storyline was very much still vision quest stuff. So why did I respond to Phoenix Extravagant more? I think at the heart of it there is a specificity to the world-building, there is one tiny tell that this is more Korean than anything else, but once that slot into place there was a solid analogy for the novels world. Add to that a flawed, pacifist lead trying to get by in an occupied state (watching someone agonise over compromises is far more interesting than just being a paragon of resistance) and a solid central magical idea and I devoured it.

This is even when the book contains a central issue whose lack of resolution leaves me with a degree of unease. The central magical idea in the book is that the occupying forces have automata to fight and to maintain order in the cities - which are basically golems or robots animated by masks with particular glyphs painted on them. The mixture of the characters and the (somewhat horrifically devised) magic paint animates them. This is the job our hero finds themselves in, to try and solve a problem with an automata in the form of a dragon. And in the process we hit upon what I think of as the Angel Problem - basically what happens when you realise that your mindless or evil monster that you are indiscriminately killing turns out to have the potential to have a soul/not be evil. About of a third of the way through the book that becomes an issue here and is never really resolved. Luckily the lead characters' pacifism makes it way less of an issue, but it feels like loose end when we get to the stock in trade battles in the last third.

Much of that is by-the-by, what impresses here is that mixture of tight, innovative, new to me worldbuilding and interpersonal struggles. I'm always going to be a sucker for a book where the protagonist is an artist, but there are deeper questions about representative art versus symbolic art, along with those of love, duty and honour. To then tuck that in with an enemy who is not evil, and potentially even part justified (as the big reveal near the end suggests) also plays into it well. It works perfectly well as a standalone, though the ending is open enough to suggest where it might go (and as said above there are plenty of unanswered questions and places it can go).

Reviewed as a NetGalley ARC

Based on Korean history and art, Phoenix Extravagant offers beautiful perspectives on art, revolution, love, and survival. Hwagugin artist Jebi just wants to paint, a goal that is hard to achieve for Hwagugin while the Razanei rule their land. Jebi obtains a Razanei name and takes the artist exam, an endeavor that puts them in the path of armies, revolutionaries, and a pacifist dragon. Intense, enjoyable, and leaves you with a burning desire to read the sequel.

Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

See that dragon on the cover? Yep. It definitely stole the show.

As for the story, I think I want to classify this as a silkpunk tale feeling quite like the Korean-Japanese occupation, with automatons, a simple magic system, and an overarching theme of rebellion.

The main character wasn't one I really grew into, however, and the romance was only slightly interesting to me. I enjoyed the intrigue more. I especially liked the whole thing more when we got to a certain automata.

I should mention one thing, however. I stumbled and/or grew annoyed with the over-use of the pronouns. I probably would have had the same issue if it was too many he or she, but in this case, it was they/them. I've seen it done well in other works, including Leckie's Imperial Radch series, where the genderless pronoun became a source of mystery and plot-building. But here, with the constant use, probably over-use of the pronoun, I found myself annoyed by one thing more than the rest: clarity. Clarity suffered.

Just trying to keep tabs, I was pulled out of the tale more times than I can count. This isn't a good thing. It's almost like asking a life-long reader of third-person perspectives to read nothing but first-person perspectives from now on. I'm not comfortable with the loss of clarity. It's not even about losing genders to keep all the ducks in a row. It's about losing plural and singular, too. I keep trying to count how many are in the group when our MC is alone.

All this got a lot easier once characters stuck to their names instead of the barrage of unspecific pronouns.

Honestly, I probably would have enjoyed the actual tale more if it had been a smoother read. I'm rating it a 3.5 out of 5.

Anyone who's read my blog will know that I'm a huge fan of Yoon Ha Lee's work. From the Machineries of the Empire trilogy to his short story collections, I've read and loved them all. As such, when I saw word that a new book was being written, I knew I had to get my hands on it as soon as possible. Ironically, I was telling myself I wouldn't request any more titles until I cleared my backlog, but I just couldn't resist. And I was certainly not let down. A huge thanks to Rebellion/Solaris for approving this title on NetGalley for me, despite requesting it so late in the review cycle.

From the first chapter, it's clear that this world is heavily inspired by the Japanese (the Razanei) occupation of Korea (the Hwaguk) in the 20th century. A major theme in this book is colonialism. Namely, this book hits two major points, the first being the response of the colonized people. Through different characters, Lee shows responses ranging from open resistance (Bongsunga), reluctant integration (Jebi), to open assimilation (Hak). Pheonix Extravagent also explores the behavior of the colonizers and the discrimination faced by the Hwaguk. As the summary implies, much of this commentary is done through the lens of art, in the perceived value of art styles from different nationalities, art theft, and art destruction. 

For fans of the Machineries of the Empire trilogy, the worldbuilding and the magic system will seem the most familiar. The Razanei rely heavily on their automata, automated machines that can obey basic commands, tireless and un-swayed by human emotion. These automata are brought to life by special pigments, made from the destroyed works of dead Hwaguk artists, are used to form glyphs that command the automata. From having read some of Lee's short stories, this is a concept Lee's explored before. However, Phoenix Extravagant has really expanded that concept with the horrifying background of the pigments and made it truly fascinating to read.

Of the characters, Jebi, our non-binary, pacifist, "I just want to paint" artist was my favorite. From their introduction, it's clear that Jebi just wants to paint, and if it has to be for the Razanei government and he has to adopt a Razanei name, so be it. Unfortunately for Jebi, making a living as an artist is difficult and instead of working as a typical salaried artist, they get dragged into a secret military project, the dragon automata Arazi. Naturally, having met Arazi and realizing this dragon is sapient, they hatch a plan to break him out. One of my favorite aspects about Jebi it's very obvious they have no idea what they're doing. Every plan, every action, is tinged with a sense of 'oh fuck I hope this works' and 'holy shit that worked?'. Lee captures the extremely erratic behavior of artists extremely well, from the 2AM bouts of inspiration to the hours upon hours of staring at a blank sheet of paper. There are some hilarious scenes where Jebi uses this to convince the Ministry guards to let them into places 'because artist things, y'know?'. And the Ministry guards, apparently used to this behavior, just rolls with it. Jebi embodies peak Chaotic Dumbass Energy and I love them.

Aside from Jebi, there are Vei, the Ministry of Armor's Duelist prime, Jebi's project manager and later lover, Bongsunga, Jebi's older sister, and Arazi, the dragon automata. I enjoyed Vei's character as the rational one of the pairing. Jebi's unabashed pining for her was extremely cute to read. However, as the two of them got closer, I felt like there was a lack of chemistry. I think this is largely due to a lack of Vei ever really showing affection for Jebi beyond dialogue. Bongsunga took longer to warm up to and early on I just thought she was a hardass. However, we get more of her backstory and her activities in the second half of the book and I found myself appreciating her pragmatism and dedication to her people, even if it meant going beyond her personal stakes. Arazi, was, as expected, extremely lovable. Arazi comes off as a young sheltered, though mature child, constantly asking Jebi to explain sensations that he cannot experience. And also he's a dragon. What more can a reader want?

Besides the lack of chemistry, one minor point I had issue with was the more fantastical elements. For a book so mired in practicality, the more fantasy elements like the Celestials just chilling out on the Moon or the Razenai trying to build something to travel to the moon seemed almost out of place.

Overall, I rate this book a 4/5. Yoon Ha Lee brings together a stark and fascinating world inspired by the Japanese occupation of Korea in the 20th century. The characters, Jebi, Vei, Bongsunga, and Arazi are all extremely lovable, though I had issues with Jebi and Vei's chemistry. I will have to say, that ending was, uh, unexpected.

Review to be posted on my blog at a later time

Wow. I finished this book just a few minutes ago, and I’m reeling. In the best way! But I’m not at all sure how to describe what I just experienced.

First off, Phoenix Extravagant took me completely by surprise; it was not the book I was expecting. I was incredibly excited when I heard that Lee was writing a fantasy novel, because the creativity demonstrated in his sci-fi is incredible, even though I bounced off those books (I’m not much of a sci-fi reader, and they are pretty heavy sci-fi). So, thinks I, now he’s writing fantasy I have a much better chance of being able to properly appreciate him! Because fantasy is my genre, even when it gets properly weird. This one, I’ll be able to read and be wow-ed by!

And I did! I was! This was much easier to sink into than Ninefox Gambit, and I enjoyed it immensely. But I was expecting the wild, outside-the-box, wildly-inventive creativity of Ninefox, and that’s not what this book is. Or no, that’s not right; it’s that Ninefox is immediately and obviously out there. You can’t miss the fact that it’s like nothing else you’ve ever read, because the alien strangeness is in your face from the first paragraph.

Phoenix Extravagant is also like nothing else I’ve ever read, but in a much subtler way. Superficially, the world and story of PE is fairly recognisable, even standard; the setting is obviously inspired by eastern Asia, and the magic system takes the form of a series of glyphs painted in special inks – it’s very reminiscent of computer code. A few small but delightful details stand out – one of the minor characters is a gumiho, the Korean equivalent of a kitsune, a shapeshifting fox-spirit, and her presence in society is completely normalised, a conceit that delighted me; as did the presence of the Celestials living on the moon, visible going about their lives through telescopes. But for the most part, neither the worldbuilding nor magic system are what makes this story special.

I hardly have the words to explain what it is that makes PE such a heavy hitter. I mean that literally; I don’t know what to call the primary movers and shakers of the story. Cultural forces, maybe? Phoenix Extravagant is like an ocean that is calm on the surface, but has deep and powerful currents running just beneath what’s visible. It’s about the give and take of different cultures, of shifting cultures, of cultural values and those things that are valuable to a culture (not always the same things). It’s about appropriation and assimilation, patriotism versus practicality, conquerors against the conquered. Those are the things powering the plot, driving the story and the characters within it. Those are the things that sweep you up and drag you in and keep you up late at night, turning pages as quickly as you can.

On the surface, this is a story about Jebi, a non-binary/third-gender artist of Hwaguk, a country that was conquered by the Empire of Razan six years before the book opens. Unlike their older sister, Jebi is, if not quite indifferent to Hwaguk’s vassalage, more or less at peace with it: this is the world they live in now, and they mean to succeed in it as best they can. That means paying the substantial fee to register themselves with a Razanei name – Tesserao Tsennan – and applying for a job in the now Razanei-run Ministry of Art, both things their sister Bongsunga would view as betraying their people, and unforgivable. Which is fair enough, given that Bongsunga’s wife died in the war, but Jebi knows that working with/for the Razanei is the only way they’re ever going to be able to support themself, instead of living on Bongsunga’s charity forever.

Through a tricky little knot of events and behind-the-scenes subterfuge, Jebi ends up working for the Ministry of Armor instead of the Ministry of Art, their artistic skills put to use in the creation of Razan’s magically-powered automata – which police the streets – instead of in propaganda posters or the like. And as the book’s blurb states, Jebi discovers the horrible secret behind the creation of the inks the Razanei use to create those automata…

But, see, it’s not the horrible secret you’re probably guessing it is. It’s arguably worse. And I can’t talk about it without giving too big a spoiler, but it’s that unexpected twist that sets the tone for the entire book, the linchpin of the whole story. And I’m so impressed with it, and the way it’s woven through the book, how all those cultural forces I mentioned tangle and twine with each chapter.

This book wasn’t what I expected. I seriously doubt it’s what anyone is expecting, given the blurb it was given, which isn’t lying but is definitely misleading – or possibly lying by omission. But for the best of reasons. If the blurb explained what’s actually going on in PE, it would sound so dull to most readers, and it isn’t. I don’t know that I could spin it in a way that makes it exciting either, but Lee has written it all in a way that’s un-put-downable – not because it’s non-stop action and fight scenes, but because he’s an incredible writer who makes even the slower, quiet moments resound with the reader.

Oh, and there’s a dragon. An utterly fabulous dragon. But I’m willing to bet it’s not the kind of dragon – or character – you’re already expecting it is.

It’s not Pacific Rim. It’s not an anime. But it’s a powerful, deeply moving book that is a wonderful read, without question one of the best of the year. I can’t wait until it’s out so I can talk to other people about it properly!

It pained me to give three stars to a Yoon Ha Lee work. But, this is not as enthralling as his Machineries of Empire. It is much more straightforward (no level of complexities like in MoE) and the main character, Jebi, was not as colorful as Jedao. In fact, they made me feel morose from start to finish.

The story was set a country under occupation of a foreign ruler that used automaton as part of its enforcement activities. The worldbuilding might easily refer to Korea-Japan war in the 20th century, complete with 'Westerners' threat lurking in the horizon. There was some minor magic that involved the use of pigments that could cause all sorts of destruction when applied correctly by capable artists. There was a certain automata that would steal every scene it was in. Lee is always good when describing intelligent non-living things.

All of those are not that bad, but I always felt 'surely something more exciting will happen after this' after every chapter. I kept waiting and waiting until the eye-rolling ending, which is my biggest exasperation of this book.

All in all, while this is not a bad book, quite well written in fact, I just needed a lot more.

Thanks Netgalley and Rebellion Publishing for the review copy.

Fantastic, diverse and engrossing fantasy with a strong core message about war. Brilliant characterisation and beautiful if rather sparse world building. Highly recommend.

This is a departure for Yoon Ha Lee. Previously known for the mind bending occult mathematics of the Hexarchate novels, this is a turn into fantasy, set in an imagined version of Korea under Japanese occupation.
On the plus side, there’s an intriguing and original magic system that taps into the book’s concerns about colonialism and appropriation. The characters are well realised, with believably complex relationships. And there’s also a giant metal flying dragon. Lee has put a lot of work into the art of this book, taking a theme and working with it, setting resonances and echoes of it throughout the world he has created.
But that same care doesn’t seem to have gone into the narrative, which is a little slight, a little obvious. There are some good set pieces, but there’s no complexity or surprise in the story, no tricksiness. Even the one revelation that you could generously call a twist doesn’t really surprise or shock. It’s not terrible by any means, but the storyline doesn’t feel like it’s been crafted with the same attention as the rest of the book. I’ve seen talk that this is a standalone novel, but it feels like a part one to me. There’s a blatant sequel hook at the end, but more importantly the lead character has at least two interpersonal conflicts that don’t really get resolved. I’d like to see more of this world, so I hope there is another in the works.
This is one of those books where I wish GR allowed half stars. Four stars seems generous, but three feels too low. I'll settle on 4.5 /5 for the setting and the atmosphere, 3/5 for the story. And a million out of five for that gorgeous cover.

I want to open this review up by telling you what not to expect from this book. Because I know from the experience of not really getting Yoon Ha Lee’s writing style in Ninefox Gambit, how people might not like this one, his first fantasy novel. (And because I know a lot of people have come to this off the back of his middle grade novel, which is great, but also very different to his adult style, but enough dithering.)

Things not to expect:

An action-packed ride (at least not til closer to the end).

Very much exposition on the world-building (particularly magic systems here). He’ll trust you to pick it up as you go along, and that does/doesn’t work for different people.

A light writing style (in that it’s quite detailed and dense at times).

Okay, now we’ve got that out the way, why should you read this book?

Firstly, I am biased, because I read Machineries of Empire and loved it (barring the aforementioned blip of getting into the first book). So, I knew I would like this book at the very least.

The best thing about this novel is Arazi. I mean, who wouldn’t love a snarky sentient automaton dragon? And really, the book gets very good once Arazi shows up. The relationship between him and Jebi was a little reminiscent of Jedao and Cheris in book 1 of Machineries of Empire so of course I was guaranteed to like it.

And then there’s the worldbuilding. I know I warned about the dense writing an lack of exposition above, but for me those are great aspects of it. I love being trusted by the author to pick up magic and politics as I go along, because I’m really not one for reading long passages explaining the world.

There were probably two things I was less enamoured by. The first is that Jebi is a much more passive (for want of a better word) character than Yoon Ha Lee’s previous mains. I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing, but for a lot of the plot they just seemed to go along with things, rather than causing them. But hey! They just want to live in peace, really, so I can see them as a more reluctant rebel type. I also didn’t love the romance, but again, that’s just me. The whole relationship was necessary to the plot, but I didn’t think the romance itself was (if that makes sense).

But overall, this was an enjoyable read. And one I urge you to take up, especially if you want to read more of Yoon Ha Lee, but adult sci fi is too intimidating right now.

Simon and Schuster was kind enough to pass along an ARC of this. I honestly wasn’t expecting how quickly I tore through this, even with shelter in place in effect here. The pitch is that an artist is “recruited” into collaborating with an occupying government and working on the sigils that animate the government’s secret automata weapon, and the deeper they go, the more they find out about the occupying government’s crimes, and the less they can stay out of politics. So they decide to steal the automata they’re working on. Yeah, it’s a heist book, but it’s also about siblings, and the role of art, and the various ways people choose to survive, and also mechs that become self aware, and war crimes, and identity. This seems like it’s going to be a one shot, but I would love to see more of these characters. Also - enby main and romance! This comes out in June, and I highly recommend picking it up when it does.