‘Iron Widow’ by Xiran Jay Zhao and ‘Crier’s War’ by Nina Varela are the queer YA books this world needs

Crier’s War cover by David Curtis / Iron Widow cover by Ashley Mackenzie

Heyo, lovely people. As I wrap up this year’s bout of reading — including a brand new top ten reads of the year list — I realise that two of the books set to feature in said list had not yet been reviewed. And I know as much was the case for last year, including standout reads like Requiem for a Dream, but given I’ve got space to review one more book before my final venture of 2021. Obviously, that means I have to review two. But first!

What I’m Reading: The Plantagenets (Dan Jones — William Collins Books) / The Chrysillium Tree (Laken Honeycutt)

What I’m Watching: I’ll put Dune (Legendary Pictures) because I saw that on Tuesday and it’s really the only thing I’ve seen this week — you can expect a review in the early 2022!

It is definitely cheating to go with two, but given both books are both so good (and so delightfully queer!), I couldn’t help myself. That said, I will still review them separately, beginning with Crier’s War by Nina Varela.

Crier’s War, AKA the sapphic YA fantasy novel I desperately needed in my life, AKA Crier being Ayla trash for 429 pages

I won’t lie, I’ve almost called it Iron Heart, AKA book two’s title five, six times already. Set in a (fantasy? sci-fi? science fantasy?) world where humans have been enslaved by their own creations, the Automae, I was already experiencing feelings given my only slightly absolute, unshakeable belief that AI will one day take over the world. I am so only slightly convinced that I already plan to become a hermit in northern Finland the second things start to look decidedly doomed.

So here I am, already all about MC Ayla’s ambition to kill the sovereign’s daughter and bring down the Automae patriarchy. However, the daughter in question is the other MC, the Lady Crier. She learns pretty early on that her Maker has since been found to have tampered with a new Automae (and soon discovers blueprints proving she is more human in design than Automae). With Crier set to marry a very anti-human Automae named Kinok, and a father who has no interest in his daughter’s opinions, I shudder to admit I really like her character.

I like both of them, perhaps more Crier than Ayla, even; from the moment Ayla saves Crier’s life, the Automae princess begins her journey to discover who she is and what she truly believes, and how desperately she is in love with Ayla. Honestly, Crier being the Ayla trash she quickly becomes is easily the best part about this book, and I am living for it. She’s innocent, albeit to the point of naïvety at times, and I almost want to say I’d protect her with my life; she’s so precious. And then there’s Ayla, hardened to the world and convinced love is the worst, most dangerous thing of all. As she becomes a handmaiden to Lady Crier, she tries to advance her ambition to cripple the sovereign through Crier’s death. However, while Crier is most definitely Ayla trash, Ayla is so busy going, “Wait, what? Her? Her?” in a fashion Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy would be much proud of.

In short, they’re here, they’re queer, and they have a whole sequel to make amends with the reality that despite everything, they love one another. Given this is either the first half or first instalment of a larger series, everything is in such a mess between them that I am genuinely eager to see what comes in Iron Heart.

All that said, while they are a standout element of this book, there is much about Crier’s War that glistens in the sunlight. The release of information relevant to the main story is flawlessly drip-fed to the reader, maximising the different wealths of knowledge both Crier and Ayla possess as far as the main story is concerned. Heckety, even the timeline provided to readers before the book’s first page includes essential plot information masked as just another event and could easily be dismissed as such. It leaves an almost-anger in the reader, as you just want to knock both Ayla and Crier’s heads together and shout, “You both know things the other wants or needs to know! Just dish out the goss, already!”

I honestly think it’s one of the best parts of the book and some of the best narrative progression I’ve seen in a while. It gives us the sense that both sides are vital, that if one side were removed from the storytelling equation, the entire narrative would crumble to pieces.

The writing is good, and the remaining character work is decent enough — though they’re certainly not on the same level as Ayla and Crier. I think Kinok is undoubtedly an interesting one, while others such as Queen Junn and her human advisor have a story I am eager to hear more about in book two whenever I finally get my hands on that. The map is pretty nice at the beginning, and the majority of chapters are separated by snippets from in-world texts, which I personally love to bits. In all, this is a solid 4-star, wonderfully sapphic book more people should be celebrating. For as the dedication says, queer readers “deserve every adventure.”

Yes ma’am, that we do.

Iron Widow, AKA the first polyamorous book — much less Young Adult poly book! — I’ve read, AKA a literary icon

Multiple times in the past, I have written myself into a corner. For example, does MC get with A or B? But then, A and B like one another as well, because if everyone doesn’t like everyone, can it really be considered a triangle? So, of course, me wanting everyone to be happy, I’ve daydreamed the moment where the three characters collectively say, “Fuck it,” realise they all like each other and form a triad/throuple. I have settled on that as canonical narrative progressions for two of my WIPs, partly because I genuinely want them all to be happy together and partly because the world needs more positive poly representation.

This book comes to that exact glorious “fuck it” moment, and I am here for it. Honestly, though, I think Xiran Jay Zhao says it best:

I discovered Iron Widow through their YouTube channel, scrolling through my feed (probs at 3am) when I found their video on the new Mulan film. So I watched it, I was hooked, and I’ve been subscribed ever since. I would, in turn, highly recommend checking Xiran Jay Zhao’s YT channel (which you can do here!) whenever you have the chance.

Of course, Zhao’s fantastic YT presence and high-quality videos were not the only reason I opted to pick up this book — nor was the fact that Iron Widow, a fabulously queer and feminist mecha title, sounded genuinely fantastic. It was but one title in my newly-forged ambition.

See, last year, I made the decision to read books strictly outside of the fantasy genre (which I would highly recommend, both as a reader and especially as a writer), and I came across some truly fantastic books — some clunkers, too, but they’re equally valuable. Yet, a few months ago, I was studying for uni when I encountered ‘cultural literacy’. The term is a question of how familiar one is with different cultural groups beyond oneself, and I realised as I was looking inward that my cultural literacy is simply not at a level with which I am satisfied. Granted, I have far more cultural literacy when it comes to queer books, but even then, I can do better.

So that’s what I set out to do, which is why ten of my last twelve reads, in particular, were all variously diverse. Crier’s War and Iron Widow are two of those ten reads, all to break out of my familiar western lense. As a reader, I find it so important to read beyond what I know, to explore other parts of the world previously inaccessible due to being an ‘other’ kind of book. Diversity is easily why so many gravitate to YA; it is genuinely leaps and bounds ahead of other reading domains when exploring more than the medieval western world, to name one example.

As a writer, I simply do not believe I can afford to lack in cultural literacy. After all, when I write exclusively in worlds I’ve built from scratch, the only excuse I could offer for not including other cultures is personal ignorance, and that’s no excuse at all.

This book, a fictional recreation of older Chinese history and among its most famous Emperors — the sole Empress in China’s history, Wu Zetian — was simply wonderful to explore. Brutal, oft unflinching, yet equally beautiful (especially in its multi-dimensional realisation by Zhao), I am in no small part excited to continue exploring this book’s world in the sequel. However, if I were to name a part of the worldbuilding I liked the best, it would honestly be the hateable, realistic, yet delightful-to-watch-MC-Zetian-crush-beneath-her-bound-feet patriarchy that surrounds and threatens to drown every inch of this book.

All the better as Zetian takes a simple revenge plot — the launching pad of this title — and becomes something to rival the ages.

I could simply say she’s an icon and leave it at that, but she deserves to be celebrated for the queer, disabled, deadly, fabulous, feminist icon that she is. Due to having her feet bound as a child, she is restricted to a wheelchair or cane, yet still manages to kick ass at every opportunity. It’s almost as if people with disabilities have agency or something. Weird.

Of course, she’s not the only person to celebrate in Iron Widow. There is actual bisexual legend, Gao Yizhi, a cinnamon roll whose gift is being rich (this trait provides one of the genuinely funniest moments I’ve read in some time). He’s someone who didn’t overwhelmingly stand out at first, but has since cemented himself as a treasure in every respect. Genuinely, given how rarely bisexuality is presented positively — or in a multi-dimensional sense — I want it all.

And then, because living on the biway is life goals, we have Li Shimin: a pilot on death row who starts out not overwhelmingly here or there but quickly becomes one of the best parts of this book. Genuinely, it became a case of me wanting to hug him and fend off anything that might hurt him.

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Anyway, the characters are fantastic, and the worldbuilding is solid; the magic system is pretty decent, as is the mecha system tied in with it. As far as the plot is concerned, there were some twists I realise I ought to have seen coming and didn’t, which I appreciate on a writing front; more so, Iron Widow is an outstanding foundation for a larger series, complete with story-hooks I am game to see play out down the line. It also proved quite emotional, especially at the end (it definitely has nothing with what I said in the previous paragraph, emoji included, mm-mm, nope). Though, I did admittedly spend the rest of the book going between “just another chapter” and “yaas queen” on a pretty consistent basis.

All in all, Iron Widow is a steamroll kind of book, one where the momentum basically keeps you hooked until you’ve been reading for hours on end and the sun’s long since set and you’re hungry because you haven’t actually eaten in hours, though you did make tea not too long ago. It differs in that not-at-all-specific sense from Crier’s War, in that I had a tendency to consume it in smaller portions over a week, but both are fantastic reads and I’d highly recommend both of them.

Anywhoosen, I shall leave it at that on this Friday-that’s-actually-Sunday; I hope to see you all in about a fortnight when I reveal my ten favourite reads of this year! But until then, I hope you all have a lovely two weeks, including a most wonderful and safe holiday!

— Charis.