Book Review – Girls of Paper and Fire (Natasha Ngan)
I saw this one pop up on my Goodreads recommended list a few months ago as an upcoming title, and I flagged it straight away as a ‘must read.’ Just listen to this:
“Each year, eight beautiful girls are chosen as Paper Girls to serve the king. It’s the highest honor they could hope for…and the most cruel.
But this year, there’s a ninth girl. And instead of paper, she’s made of fire.
In this lush fantasy, Lei is a member of the Paper caste, the lowest and most oppressed class in Ikhara. She lives in a remote village with her father, where the decade-old trauma of watching her mother snatched by royal guards still haunts her. Now, the guards are back, and this time it’s Lei they’re after–the girl whose golden eyes have piqued the king’s interest.
Over weeks of training in the opulent but stifling palace, Lei and eight other girls learn the skills and charm that befit being a king’s consort. But Lei isn’t content to watch her fate consume her. Instead, she does the unthinkable–she falls in love. Her forbidden romance becomes enmeshed with an explosive plot that threatens the very foundation of Ikhara, and Lei, still the wide-eyed country girl at heart, must decide just how far she’s willing to go for justice and revenge.”
Hell of a blurb, right? It’s got a bit of everything. #Ownvoices, daring courtesans, forbidden love, revolution against a presumably cruel monarchy…alright. I’m on board.
(Side note: What’s with all the YA books about fire? Is it a response to the popularity of Throne of Glass’s fire-wielding protagonist? Is it meant to reflect the power and passion of youth? I should do a blog post).
Well, for this fire-adjacent YA novel, I’m happy to say that Natasha Ngan delivered. This was a great read. Here’s my spoiler-free review.
***
Whenever an author decides to full-on tackle serious issues like rape, oppression and trauma, there’s a non-zero chance that they’re going to mess it up somehow. This is difficult, thorny stuff. And look, I was concerned there for a minute that the protagonist Lei was going to somehow avoid all the terrible things happening to everyone around her just by virtue of her specialness and determination. I shouldn’t have worried — Ngan doesn’t throw any soft balls. Lei struggles, suffers, gets knocked down, gets up, gets knocked down some more. At the same time, Ngan never trips over the line into gratuitous torture-porn, which would have been easy to do given the topic.
In terms of the characters, I thought they were pretty good, although not my favourite aspect. Lei is plucky and likeable, and it’s really easy to root for her and her forbidden romance. The other Paper Girls are distinctive and memorable, even though some of them don’t get much screen time. And the villain (particularly the main villain) was interesting, because although he’s a monster, he’s not just a monster. He also has moments of humanity, even sympathy, at least early on. It made a great commentary on how abusers don’t always wear frightening faces.
The world-building was something I found particularly good. The central conceit involves three castes — the lowest (Paper) being entirely human, the highest (Moon) being essentially demonic/bestial, and the middle (Steel) somewhere inbetween. I wasn’t actually sure what this aspect added to the story, because most of the time I forgot that the Moon-caste characters were meant to look inhuman. I think the story, which is really about class oppression, would have been mostly the same if they were just three castes of ordinary humans. With that said, I assume it’s something Ngan intends to explore in future books, so I’m not too worried. Either way, it was a cool feature and something I don’t think I’ve seen before.
I’ve been trying to read more non-Western-based fantasy (The Poppy War is an obvious highlight from last year), and that’s an ongoing process. I understand that Ngan’s background is British/Malaysian/Chinese, and those are the influences that inspire the world of Ikhara. For me, the focus on pan-Asian mythology and culture felt fresh and original, although your mileage may vary if you’re very much across this sub-genre. Either way, Ngan leads us into her world beautifully, presenting just enough information to make sense of events and give richness and texture, but without ever overloading or info-dumping on us. The world feels real and lived-in. Bravo!
In terms of the prose, I was very impressed. Lush, evocative, but never overdone. Ngan has the wonderful ability to sketch the scene in just a few well-chosen words. I was pretty sure I was in good hands when I read this paragraph in the Prologue:
“Picture smoke-cut night and darkness like a heavy black hand cupped round the world. Crackling fire. Standing before the flames—a shaman, his leathery skin webbed with tattoos, teeth sharpening to wolflike points. He’s bent over the naked form of a newborn, just hours old. She’s crying. On the other side of the fire, her parents watch in silence, hands clasped so tightly their knuckles are white. The shaman’s eyes roll as he chants a dao, painting its characters in the air with his fingers, where they hang above the baby, glowing softly before fading away.”
Great, isn’t it? The whole book is like that.
Overall, I think Girls of Paper and Fire is a real cracker. The fact that I read it in a single day speaks for itself. Ngan never lets the pace sag, and the climax is proper white-knuckle material. I’m looking forward to the sequel and can’t wait to see where Ngan’s career goes in the future.
(Footnote: I did my own flat-lay for the photo (featuring my all-time favourite Tasmanian Rhubru rhubarb and ginger juice — no, I’m not being paid by Rhubru; yes, I wish I was). What this has taught me is that flat-lays are much harder than they look. Which is weird because I spend so much time sleeping that I should really be an expert on flatness. Ey-yo! I need to make a friend who’s a flat-lay expert to do all my photos for me from now on).