Ratings215
Average rating3.8
Pros: a lot of good interpersonal relationships, unique mythology, excellent worldbuilding, interesting characters (particularly Sieh), some romance
Cons: the political maneuverings of the potential heirs takes a back seat to other affairs (which is only a con in that I was expecting the book to deal more with the politics of the Kingdoms)
The Hundred Thousands Kingdoms is a fantasy novel that grabbed my interest from page one and didn't let it go. Yeine Darr is narrating 2 very interesting weeks of her life. At times she interrupts her own story to mention something she forgot to say earlier or something about the world and its people she thinks you should know. This makes for an engaging read as it's almost like being around a camp fire and hearing a live storyteller (in the way that dialogue feels real even though people don't speak the way dialogue is presented).
Yeine is a leader among her ‘barbarian' people. She is also the half-blood granddaughter of the current ruler of the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. And he has called her to Sky for reasons she does not know.
While there, she plans to force her grandfather to admit to her mother's murder.
But once in Sky Yeine meets Nahadoth, Sieh, Kurue and Zhakkarn, one of the Three Gods and his children. They were defeated by Bright Itempas and made slaves to and weapons for the Kingdoms' Arameri rulers. And they have their own plans for Yeine.
Jemisin has developed a distinctive voice, which was a pleasure to read. Her characters are engaging and sympathetic - even when they're doing things you otherwise wouldn't agree with. The plot is deceptively simple, gaining in complexity as the story progresses. You'll think you know what the ending is going to be. You don't.
The contest between Yeine and her cousins to see who will become the heir to the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms was more of a backdrop to other events than the main plot, which surprised me. I would have liked to see more of the conflict - backbiting, political maneuvering, etc.
The Gods and their history are fascinating. From their various births, their jealousy, hatred and love, to the war that rips them apart, you can't wait to learn more about them.
It's a great book and the sequel promises to show more of the world Jemisin has created.
(PT - For English, read bellow)
Um livro sobre amor, dualidade, vingança e perdão. Acima de tudo, um livro sobre a sua verdadeira essência.
Quem me conhece sabe que alta fantasia não é bem o meu gênero literário favorito, mas a N. K. Jemisin sempre me faz morder a língua quando falo sobre. Você quer uma escrita instigante? Você quer uma história complexa, mas compreensível? Você quer diversidade e representatividade? Você quer os deuses se curvando aos desejos de homens que não compreendem bem o seu próprio poder? Então, muito provavelmente, você quer ler esse livro.
Acho que o que mais me surpreende, toda vez que leio algo da Jemisin, é justamente o quanto ela SEMPRE consegue se reinventar e me surpreender com a escrita fluída, divertida e detalhada dela. Desde a primeira página, você já vai contar com ação, emoções fortíssimas e segredos que pedem para ser revelados.
Mas, mais do que tudo isso, o que você encontra nessa história é a própria realidade. Percorrer o mundo dos cem mil reinos é percorrer uma história sobre as duas verdades que existem em uma mesma história. É compreender a importância não apenas do balanço, mas principalmente da dualidade. É se apaixonar pelo abstrato e desejar que esse livro ainda tivesse mais páginas para ler. É atravessar, com uma curiosidade crítica, o colonialismo.
N. K. Jemisin não me decepciona mesmo, muito pelo contrário: sempre me surpreende com alguma técnica narrativa nova.
Espero que você goste desse livro tanto quanto eu gostei e boa leitura.
(EN)
A book about love, duality, revenge and forgiveness. Above all, a book about humankind true essence.
Anyone who knows me knows that high fantasy isn't really my favorite literary genre, but N.K. Jemisin always makes me think twice. Do you want thought-provoking writing? Do you want a complex but understandable story? Do you want diversity and representation? Do you want the gods bowing to the desires of men who don't quite understand their own power? Then, most likely, you want to read this book.
I think what surprises me the most, every time I read something by Jemisin, is precisely how much she ALWAYS manages to reinvent herself and surprise me with her fluid, fun and detailed writing. From the first page, you will already have action, strong emotions and secrets that ask to be revealed.
But more than all that, what you find in this story is reality itself. To travel through the world of the hundred thousand kingdoms is to travel through the two truths that exist in the same story. It is to understand the importance not only of balance, but mainly of duality. It's falling in love with the abstract and wishing this book had more pages to read. It is to talk, with critical curiosity, about colonialism.
N.K. Jemisin does never disappoint me, quite the contrary: she always surprises me with some new narrative technique.
I hope you enjoy this book as much as I did and have a good reading.
This is a book where I can tell that it's well-executed but just not my cup of tea. But I love the way it engages with privilege/oppression/slavery.
Not sure what to think of this one. Kind of slow, not really too interesting characters, didn't grab me from the start but it was good enough to finish and then buy the 2nd book in the series. This might be one of those books that if you read it twice you get more out of it. There isn't a ton of action but there was enough to keep me curious and keep me reading. The ending was good, nothing left out to wonder about, and I'm curious what the whole trilogy will bring. We will see as I've already started the 2nd book.
The sex scenes weren't really my thing, but fortunately they were short. Overall an interesting story.
It's not often that a book leaves me completely unable to articulate what I feel about it. This speechlessness is generally a reaction to either one of two extremes when it comes to books: either what I've read is extremely terrible, or what I've read is extremely good. The last time this happened was last year, when I finished reading Ursula LeGuin's The Left Hand of Darkness and found myself unable to say exactly what I felt about it. I managed to find the words, but only after a while of sitting on it and thinking about it.
This time, the book that has rendered me completely speechless because it is simply that good is The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, the first in The Inheritance Trilogy by N.K. Jemisin. Now, I've heard a lot of things said about this series, most of it positive, and I'd acquired the trilogy to read whenever I felt like it. However, I kept on putting it off and putting it off, until (as is often the case) Hope decided to read the book and asked (or ordered) me to read it. And since she caught me just as I was finishing Mary Roach's Gulp, I decided it was as good a time as any to start the trilogy.
The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms begins with the narrator, Yeine Darr, comparing the city of Sky to a rare flower called an altarskirt rose. In comparing the rose with the city, Yeine describes, both succinctly and accurately, its nature and the nature of its residents, particularly of the Arameri, her mother's family. And it is in this beautiful, rotten city that Yeine must find the answers to the question behind her parents' death, as well as figure out what in the world her maternal grandfather, who summoned her there in the first place, could possibly want with her. She must also learn how to survive, for she is caught in the middle of a war, and her destiny is far, far greater than she ever thought it could be.
The first notable thing about this novel is the narration. Though it is told in the first person, there is a dreamlike quality to it that is a result of the fact that this tale is not told in a linear fashion. It slips back and forth between the past and the present, mythology and history, and later on, between two speakers: one is obviously Yeine, but the other is not named until later in the novel (though after a certain plot point the reader can easily guess who Yeine is talking to). Some reviewers have found fault with this non-linear narration, but I, for my part, find it exquisitely well-done and very well-managed. Some authors attempt to write non-linear narrative, and tend to fail quite badly, as they lose track and control of plots and characters. Jemisin, however, keeps a tight rein on her narration, but gives it enough play to allow room for the dreamlike quality I've mentioned earlier.
When I am reading stories told in first-person perspective, I always look for a narrator whose voice is easy to read and engage with. Sometimes, writers don't manage this at all, and there have been times when I have put a book down because I want nothing more than to strangle the narrator - and I do not mean this fondly, either. Yeine is nothing like that at all. Though there are indeed moments when she feels a little bland, she is, for the most part, an interesting narrator and fascinating character. She's sensible, but what I appreciate the most about her is that, when she does make a decision that is not sensible, she is either aware of it, or if not, owns up to the consequences. This makes her inherent courage obvious, even if she doesn't charge headlong into battle.
In many ways, it is this kind of courage that lies at the core of The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. Much has already been said by other reviewers and critics about how The Inheritance Trilogy embraces women, people and cultures of color, and homosexuality, and I don't know if I could add more to that discussion beyond saying that, as a woman from a Third-World country, what Jemisin has done with The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms and likely the rest of The Inheritance Trilogy is extremely gratifying. I will explain, therefore, why I love Yeine: she is courageous in ways that marginalized people must be courageous in order to effect change - to confront oppression headlong, to look it in the eye and do something about it, despite all the possible hurdles that stand in one's way. So many of us are used to ducking our heads, to looking away and bending to the will of those more powerful than us, because it is safe and less troublesome that way. Yeine was aware that simply bowing to the will of those who were more powerful than her would have been the easy way out - but it was not the right way out, and she deliberately chooses the right path, even if it is not the easy one. Of course, she had the gods on her side - in more ways than one, and no, I do not mean her relationship with Nahadoth - and while this aspect is rather troubling in a deus ex machina kind of way, it does not do much to overshadow the novel's other strengths. And now that I mention Yeine's relationship with Nahadoth, I did find myself squinting at it sideways from time to time. Not to say I didn't like it - I like a spot of romance in my reading as much as the next person - but it did seem to come up during the oddest of moments. I suppose it's just because i would have much preferred to see her investigating after her parents' death in a more old-fashioned manner, instead of approaching Nahadoth and the other gods and asking them questions all the time - especially since Nahadoth made it clear at one point that the gods don't know everything. This is a minor complaint, though - and probably the result of my bias towards Sieh.
Overall, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is a remarkably promising beginning to a trilogy, and, more importantly, a heartening sign for the changing landscape of genre fiction. Jemisin's style and language are exquisite and comparable to Ursula LeGuin in its quality and artistry. Her world-building is thorough and well thought-out, her protagonist/narrator is fascinating, and though her actions and her relationships with other characters are somewhat questionable because they slide a bit too close to deus ex machina territory, she is the for the most part intriguing to read about and attempts to find solutions to her problems without sacrificing who she is, at her core. The ending might be a little too happy for my taste - I would have liked a little more tragedy - but I cannot say there was nothing in the plot that did not indicate it was a possibility, and it was earned, and I appreciate that a great deal. I am now very much looking forward to the next book, which I hope will build on the momentum of this first novel and expand on the consequences already laid out.
(4,5) How is it that even with a plot line that doesn't interest me, a setting that tests the limits of my empathy, and relationships that make me this uncomfortable, Jemisin still manages to get me completely invested?! True magic, if you ask me, is her penmanship.