Review of A River from the Sky by Ai Jiang

Last year around this time, I enjoyed A Palace Near the Wind. A River from the Sky is the essential and satisfying conclusion to this duology. I received an eARC from Titan Books and NetGalley in return for a review.

Literally picking up where the first novella leaves off, A River from the Sky follows Lufeng’s attempt to flee with her siblings and reunite with her sister, Sangshu. Lufeng wants to tear down the system, and when she meets the rebels, her desire to destroy the monstrous Engine at the heart of it all is only strengthened. Sangshu has other ideas, however, convinced that destroying Engine would be worse than the current, unequal division of power. As their mutual enemies reassemble against them, Lufeng and Sangshu might also find themselves on opposing sides.

Jiang makes each sister’s point of view sympathetic and understandable. Lufeng, whom we came to know very well in A Palace Near the Wind, has endured sharp and deep trauma. It makes a lot of sense that she would want to destroy Engine and tear down everything in the hopes that it would allow Feng, Glace, etc., to reclaim what they have lost. In contrast, Sangshu’s time with Zinc, and her studies of alchemy, have exposed her to ideas she can’t ignore. She’s an example of how colonization often works by coopting members of colonized peoples into collaborators. Though Sangshu is now rebelling against Zinc in her own way, she no longer believes that it is possible to destroy Engine and “go back to the way things were.” In this respect, Jiang has set up these sisters are emblematic representations of two different beliefs when it comes to decolonization.

It’s more than that, however, for Sangshu’s physical transmutation adds another interesting layer. She has literally become something other as a result of the colonizing forces at play, and it’s a fascinating allegory on how colonization and industrialization change one’s body in addition to one’s mind. I think we forget this sometimes in our discussions of these forces, focusing only on the cultural aspects of the former and the wider, environmental impacts of the latter. In reality, both of these forces shape us as individuals too. Sangshu is living proof of this, and the pain she expresses, knowing she can never go home again, never really be a part of Feng again, is so palpable and anguished. You could argue she chose this path, but did she really have a choice?

Ultimately, neither sister’s perspective is the “correct” one, a point that Sangshu herself makes near the end of the story. Each of them has an important, distinctive role to play in the struggle. We all have different roles to play: some of us are organizers, some belong on the front lines, and others work tirelessly in support roles. Sangshu cannot, could not, return to Feng the way Lufeng can. At the same time, Lufeng lacked the iron will and sensibility required to sublimate herself and ultimately sacrifice herself the way Sangshu has done. Different sisters, different personalities, different roles in resistance.

I think this is the best part of this duology for me: Jiang makes these experiences so personal to these characters. Regime-toppling is on the agenda, yet unlike in an epic fantasy story that would feature scene upon scene of bit players preparing for the battle, A River from the Sky keeps its focus very tight on Sangshu and Lufeng. I suppose, in the end, that’s why this works well as a duology of novellas rather than a single novel or a larger series. If the first book was Lufeng’s journey, her loss of innocence as she was introduced to the broader world, then this book is the counterpoint. It’s not the defeat of the bad guys (they can’t be defeated, not in a conventional sense), but it is an opening salvo.

This duology is not the most scrutable of fantasy worlds. Exposition falls away to explosive action here, and I can see how some would find this book wanting. I can’t pretend I don’t want more and didn’t want to spend longer with some of these characters so I could understand them and their world better. But if you have the energy and willingness to push past that, A River from the Sky, like the first book before it, has a lot to say. It’s beautiful and terrible, full of loss and change and hope.

Ai Jiang is such an interesting writer: her style isn’t always what I want, yet her ideas and characters never fail to amaze me. She is one of several emerging voices in science fiction and fantasy who make me excited as a reader and critic for these genres.