What is it about gender that matters so much to the system, anyway? Isn’t piloting entirely a mental thing? So why is it always the girls that have to be sacrificed for power? [loc. 187]
Very loosely based on the historical figure Empress Wu, the only female sovereign in the history of China, Iron Widow tells the story of Wu Zetian as she wreaks vengeance on the individuals and institutions which she holds responsible for the death of her sister and for the oppression of thousands of women, including herself. In a setup reminiscent of Pacific Rim (and many, many manga / anime works in Chinese and Japanese culture, with which I'm unfamiliar), linked pairs pilot Chrysalises -- giant robots -- to fight the fearsome Hundun invaders. Each Chrysalis is piloted by a boy and a girl (I'm using these terms deliberately: this is very much a YA novel) and the boy, of course, is the dominant one. The girl, the concubine, often doesn't survive battle. 'The important thing was that her family would receive a nice compensation.' And so there is a constant demand for more concubines -- like Zetian's sister, whose death she is determined to avenge.
The opening chapter put me off for a while, as it's from the perspective of a male pilot, off to fight the Hundun and justifying to himself the death of his concubine-pilot. While that sets the scene for the novel, it doesn't set the tone or the mood. Once Zetian takes over the narrative, her rage and pain and power carry the story forward. She becomes a concubine and is paired with the pilot who she holds responsible for her sister's death. This does not end well for him. Zetian, it turns out, is unusually powerful (she has immense qi), and a valuable asset. Instead of being punished for the pilot's death, she's paired with a murderer plucked from death row to fight the Hundun. Li Shimin is immensely powerful, but he's an alcoholic (thanks to his trainers) and not entirely safe to be around. From him, though, Zetian learns enough about her world to begin to topple the status quo.
Zetian is not always -- not often -- a likeable character, though she's easy to relate to. She's crippled by her bound feet; she is regarded as a commodity by her family; her only friend from home turns out to be the son of a powerful oligarch. But Zetian has nothing to lose, and she's not afraid to take risks.
This was splendidly visual, emotionally melodramatic, and surprisingly brutal. There are on-page murders, sexual assaults, torture scenes, humiliations: there are discussions of suicide, plenty of gaslighting, and endemic misogyny. I'd have liked Zetian to have some positive relationships with other female characters, but given the way her female relatives have treated her it's understandable that she's resistant. Her growing connection with Li Shimin is fascinating, as is her view on bringing a third person into their relationship: a triangle, she says, is the strongest shape.
There's something of a cliffhanger at the end, to do with the gods (whose Heavenly Court, in orbit, can be seen every few months) and the Hundun: I am looking forward to a resolution in Heavenly Tyrant, due in August 2023.
Fulfils the ‘enemies to lovers’ rubric of the 52 books in 2023 challenge.
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