#perspective.

It is a rare treat to encounter a tale that checks all of one’s ‘weirdo boxes’ so perfectly and systematically, but The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms manages to pull it off.

A lonely, alienated female protagonist who is doing her best and low-key failing because of family dysfunction and a resulting mass of existential angst with a fantastic twist? Check. Yeine is a delight, so furious, fucked up, and caring rolled into one glorious ball.

Gods and monsters who you aren’t so sure are friend or foe until nearly the end, and if we’re being honest, the answer is just kind of ‘yes’ most of the way? Check. A heaping helping of trans-humanism? Check. An unabashed deep dive into the inhuman lover trope? Hell yes, that’s a check. Good grief, that’s a very hot check that doesn’t feel the need to confine itself to a strictly human form or to the mortal coil, if you catch my drift. I need some ice for that one. But lest there be any doubts, the sexually charged parts aren’t there simply for their own sake--they’re very clearly part of the existential exploration and inner conflicts that are fundamental to these characters’ personal narratives. And for that, a story that goes some very dark places but not merely for the pornography of it? Check, absolutely. It goes there shamelessly and with purpose.

An unholy metric ton of palace intrigue that ends in the fall of a corrupt magical aristocracy that treats all the world and even itself as one big box of bloody, perverted playthings? Check! Thirst for vengeance all around that lends itself to apocalyptic implications? Check, check, and check.

like. buddy.