Book Review: "The Water Outlaws" by S.L. Huang

 

 

4/5 stars 

*Spoiler alert!* 

“This book is a genderspun retelling of a Chinese classic novel Water Margin, in which antiheroic bandits rise up against a tyrannical government on behalf of the people. I’ve reimagined it as a melding of epic fantasy and wuxia, an action-packed battle against patriarchy that’s rife with indecorous women and fantastical sword fights.” 

Okay, S.L. Huang, I’m sold! The Water Outlaws is quite the action-packed and poignant romp through the Empire of Song during a rebellion. Although it started off a bit slow, I recognized the love and care S.L. Huang was putting into the worldbuilding and unique magic system.

 

One of my favorite characters of the whole novel was Lin Chong, who was introduced in the beginning as an unassuming, yet no-nonsense master arms instructor of the Imperial Guard. One of a few high-ranked women, who has largely kept her head down as she’s ascended the Imperial Guard hierarchy.  

“The class was always well attended, and Lin Chong welcomes any from the lowest beggar to the highest socialite. Women choosing to apply themselves so seriously to the arts of war and weaponry might have been seen as unusual, even in the highly modern Empire of Song, but Lin Chong was so well established in the prefecture, and so well respected, that men rationalized the participation of their wives and daughters. It will help her excise any womanly hysteria, they would think, or She will be able to improve her grace and refinement.”  

Lin Chong may not think of herself as a feminist, but she is. It is especially visible when she physically confronts her superior, Gao Qiu, after he attempts to sexually assault her. (Naturally, he’s buds with the Emperor, His Imperial Majesty, the Lord of Heaven, and is a well-positioned predator with a pattern of sexually assaulting women.) Her instinctual reaction to fight back, honed by years of arms instruction, she distrusts initially, because the consequences to her life and career would be severe if she defied Gao Qiu.

 

And yet, she is not going to allow this violation to happen to her. And so, Lin Chong is sentenced to death for her actions. It is only through her friend Lu Junyi’s intercession on her behalf that spares Lin Chong’s life, but there still must be consequences. Lin Chong is being sent to a Chinese gulag. To ensure Lin Chong arrives safely, Lu Junyi sends Lu Da, “Flower Monk.” (Let me tell you, I love that a big burly woman has a nickname like “Flower Monk.”) 

“‘Wait,’ Lu Da called. 

The man turned, but only a little, not meeting Lu Da’s eyes.  

Lu Da sheathed her sword and took her staff in both hands, then whirled it about and rammed it into a nearby tree trunk that was four times the thickness of one of her wrists. With a tremendous noise, the staff buried itself more than halfway through the trunk. The top half of the tree creaked ponderously and then, with a very slow cracking noise, fell away from Lu Da against its fellows in the forest. 

The guard squeaked.” 

Lu Da singlehandedly saves Lin Chong from attempted murder by her captors on the road and introduces her to the infamous Bandits of Liangshan. Initially skeptical of the Liangshan Bandits’ commitment to fighting to make the empire better, we see Lin Chong go through a major evolution throughout The Water Outlaws. 

“Noblewoman Chai, who was evidently some sort of—of ally, or sympathizer? Or maybe even a part-time bandit also, the same way Chao Gai was simultaneously a literal village chief. These successful, privileged people put their lives and positions at risk for—what? The ideals Chao Gai had spoken of, becoming heroes who could defend and protect, steal from the corrupt and gift to the needy? 

But could Lin Chong really train a group of—of bandits? Would she?”   

The timing of my reading The Water Outlaws comes in 2024, the year of a critical presidential election that may determine the future of American democracy. I can’t help but feel some eerie echoes between the themes of heroism and social justice present in the novel and the parallels to my present. There are those operating on the margins for change, like Lin Chong, and those who fight against the injustices of the state, and yet operating to change it from within, like Lu Junyi. 

These fundamental questions of achieving social change through revolution versus incrementalism are something The Water Outlaws wrestles with, and I appreciated the political and social commentary of the novel.

 

Of course, serious questions aside, there are lots of kick-ass action scenes, character sass, and a cool magical system. All of these qualities combine to make The Water Outlaws one of my favorite reads of 2024, so far.  

Happy reading! 

--BookOwl