cloudy with a chance of anpans

1. Queen of Attolia

If I have to choose the no 1 favourite, it is probably (surprisingly?) this. It’s a near tie with King of Attolia, but whenever I reread QoA I’m just reminded of what a risk-taking, brilliant gem it was. It’s one vividly drawn scene after another. The imageries are striking: the solarium windows shattering and the volcano vision, Sounis boats blowing up in the harbour while Gen’s silhouette greets the Magus, Gen’s ‘reunion’ with Irene at the boat, the kiss at the tent, the clash with the Mede army and the surrender, Irene finding Gen with the spilled wine cup and assuming the worst, “Diplomacy in my own name”. Even the way the book opens with Gen’s escape attempt (that leap-of-faith drop) feels like the in-medias-res opening of a tense miniseries. It is also the gutsiest thing - the greatest sleight-of-hand being the way it pulls us to Irene’s side after setting up what seems like an irredeemable first act. The interpersonal relationships (Gen and Helen have my favourite interactions in this book, along with the father/son moments with the Minister of War) are nuanced and fascinating. My favourite source of levity comes from the cousins pretending to be lovers (”put your head on my lap”), it’s just so slightly twisted in a funny way.

2. King of Attolia

A very close second, and there are times where I think it’s my no. 1 fave. I love how much the book is about the interplay between the private and public lives of people who live as symbols. Perception — erroneous, selective, and prone to manipulation — is so key to the story. Gen spent so much of the book playing a buffoon and a harmless fool as a form of self-defence and a way of blunting the power he feels ambivalent about. Sejanus manipulates perceptions among the attendants. The court refuses to see the real intimacy between Gen and Attolia as anything more genuine than statecraft on Attolia’s part. Costis’ perception of the King shifts from one end of the spectrum to another. The readers’ perception is obscured by Costis’s limited perspective, until he is drawn deeper into the private lives of Gen and Attolia. It’s a very fascinating theme and MWT really worked at it from a lot of angles. It’s also the book with the most confined setting - with the exception of one scene (Helen and the Magus), everything takes place at the Attolian court, and it feels so necessary because we need this to understand Gen’s sense of alienation and claustrophobia in a foreign place, and also to get intimately familiar with Attolia as a place and a court and a culture, not just the person with a face polished like marble, ruling it all. But beyond all that, this is also such a funny book. The post-assassination walk to the palace between Gen and Costis is such an angst-packed moment and yet it is so funny? “Wrong arm, dear” and “Yes! I’ll get the ten cups, I swear it!” are brilliant. There are wonderful contrasts of dark, painful moments (”the Great Goddess of Eddis is not known for her mercy”) and triumphant, fist-pumping ones (Gen’s duels against the Guard), and the later feels extremely satisfying because of the former. 

3. Return of The Thief

Initially I regretted the fact that we couldn’t get a Gen POV / voice given the book title, but looking at the book as a whole, I think relegating the narration job to Pheris works. There are moments in the book - Gen’s playacting at the Mede camp, his speech to Fordad, bringing doom from the sky to befall Baron Erondites  - where we really benefit from not knowing the inside of Gen’s head. The ambiguity works. We’ll never know how much of his speech to Fordad - with the allusion that he’s seen the Braeling king’s bedchamber and the threat it implied - was Gen, and how much of it was the god of thieves speaking through him. His being a hair’s breadth away from losing himself on multiple occasions. Us not being inside his head heightens the tension, and it works for me. With the theme of parent-child relationship (and how we shift from one role to another) being so prominent in the book, it also feels right to have a narrator and key character who perceives Gen as an older / guardian figure for once. It’s also so nice to see Helen and Irene’s relationship being further developed. I think one of the most moving scenes to me was Helen reliving her volcano dream, but this time with the city being empty. As if to say that all those sacrifices, all those lost lives aren’t for nothing. 

4. The Thief

I held this book in higher esteem the more I reread it because it holds up so damn well, with all the foreshadowings and how neatly it sets up the themes that will continue to influence the subsequent 5 books. This book was published over 20 years ago, but if you told me that it was published in 2021, I would’ve believed it. The themes - gods walking the earth and their designs for people who strike their fancy, myths as storytelling, the way countries happily gobble up each other, double meanings and perceptions - are so timeless and executed SO WELL. A classic and deservedly so. 

5. Thick as Thieves 

The most poetic of the books. The one most touched by grief and loss. The loss of a child, the (perceived) loss of a friend, the loss of identity. And yet, in the same breath, hope. The scene between Kamet and Irene in the garden is my absolute favourite, and The River Knows Its Time is such a beautiful piece of work from MWT. Also unexpectedly gentle: the scenes between Gen and Kamet, both sovereign and a friend lost. It occurred to me that to Gen, Kamet is probably the only person in Attolia who knew him as a friend, however briefly, before he had to relinquish his identity as Thief and became king. Kamet is one of my favourite narrators - his concerns are realistic and grounded, and his shifting sentiments feel earned. 

6. A Conspiracy of Kings