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FIRE DRAGON by M. Kei

Reviewed by Jade

Just when you thought there was no such thing as entirely original fantasy novel, here comes M. Kei -- better known for  "iron men in wooden ships" tales of gay heroes under sail -- with a most enjoyable work, FIRE DRAGON.

The book is described as a  "gay Asian fantasy," but if you’re looking for a specifically gay story set against a fantasy backdrop, this might not be the novel you’re looking for. In fact, FIRE DRAGON is a mainstream fantasy in which the delicately understated romantic thread doesn’t involve a female type. If you have any experience with classic Asian cinema, you’ll recall how the love interest in these films is so subtle, occidental eyes can easily miss it. The romance in FIRE DRAGON is cast from this mold: a warm friendship that barely spills over into sensuality, while the novel has bigger fish to fry -- literally.

The plot is the rags-to-riches story of a young man called Shuibai -- and even the name is cunning, at least in Cantonese. It translates out a half dozen ways, with untold layers of meaning, all keenly apropos of Shuibai. He’s poor and uneducated, but neither stupid nor craven, and when the opportunity comes his way to better himself and serve the greater good of the community at the same time, he’s quick to pick up the gauntlet. The narrative often has a "naïve"  quality, an almost "Once upon a time" flavor, reflecting the simplicity and inexperience of the central character, from whose perspective most of the story is told.

Shuibai lives in an impoverished but free town on the outskirts of the city, and close by the river port; and he’s a leatherworker by trade. One of the strengths of FIRE DRAGON is the author’s attention to the minutiae of his world-building, and we soon learn that Shuibai is an "untouchable," as are all those who work with dead and broken things, and refuse. The society in which he lives is overburdened with a caste system such as existed in India until a date far more recent than we might like to remember.

Through an act more of fate than altruism, the visiting Fire Lord confers upon Shuibai the office of Fire Warden, a position carrying a great deal of responsibility and no financial compensation. He’s on his own in a make-or-break venture, but Dame Fortune is on his side, and in a series of lucky breaks he’ll be pushed to his limits, given chances to make good -- or not, according to his own courage, ingenuity and intelligence. Shuibai is given a mystery to crack, as well as solving the problems of doing a hard, dangerous job for which the machinery doesn’t even exist; and he’ll do it under the knives, literally, of enemies with their own agenda.

The whole city and its satellite "free towns" are crowded together with a big, still growing, population; and they’re built of wood, bamboo and paper. The greatest hazard they face isn’t invasion by foreign warlords … it’s fire. As the story opens, there’s no such thing as an established fire service, but this will change, largely through the invention and dedication of Shuibai, who finds himself inspired not merely by an ambition to succeed, but by the painfully obvious need for a fire service.

Almost as the story begins, he meets the crippled son of a regional Fire Chief. The character of Zashi is delicately drawn, in sharp contrast to the robust, rustic Shuibai. Zashi is an artist and poet; he’s also moody and inclined to a certain melancholia, due to the fact of his crippled left side, which has robbed him of his youth, endurance and employment prospects. Zashi has a dimension more education than Shuibai, and Shuibai soon comes to admire him for his learning and artistry as much as for his beauty.

But Zashi is hiding an immense secret -- and not one I’m even going to hint at here. The last thing you’ll thank me for it plot spoilers! Suffice to say, these young men are halves of one whole, in a comfortable and almost entirely platonic relationship. When sensuality blossoms at last, it’s a simple expression of the warm friendship they’ve shared for so long, quite without fireworks or melodrama; and this friendship is the relationship on which much of FIRE DRAGON is predicated.

The great strengths of FIRE DRAGON are in the sheer originality of the idea -- the formation and development of a fire service in a frighteningly vulnerable city -- and the author’s creative decision to stage the project in a fantasy Asian setting. Picture a lavish cross between China and Japan, anything between the twelfth and eighteenth centuries, in which the height of technology is gunpowder for fireworks. Over the border are enemy hordes … showing up in the city are quite advanced and totally illegal firearms -- not pistols, but revolvers (telling us clearly that this land of swords, clan politicking and bushido has been left behind, in an industrial sense, by the world outside). The Emperor himself is concealing an enormous secret, while the feudal nature of this society is built, pagoda-fashion, from the untouchables on up to the Celestials -- with one more twist.

The power has always rested with women. It’s a matriarchy, and M. Kei toys fleetingly with what could have been a clever exercise in role reversal. A half dozen chapters in, I was looking forward to seeing this explored -- it’s seldom done properly or effectively. However, after touching briefly on this aspect of the framework for the story, the author seemed to set it aside, and never returned to it. He defines the role of the male in this society as the more or less "miserable beast of burden," while several of the female characters -- notably Shuibai’s own mother -- are depicted as "harridans." Men, at least of Shuibai’s caste, genuinely believe they don’t have the brains to be educated, conduct business, become independently wealthy … they have the brawn, and are fated to lifelong heavy lifting. Hints are given early on, regarding Shuibai’s rebellious feelings about the male predicament, but this avenue of storytelling peters out as events pivoting on the formation of the fire service gather momentum. It’s a pity the role reversal aspect was abandoned because, given the freshness of the rest of the project, I’d have been fascinated to see how this was worked out.

The book does have problems on the technical level -- niceties of editing which have gone overlooked. Also, I confess, I did begin to skim the descriptions of the costuming, which could become a tad over-enthusiastic; and I do have reservations about expressions that seem inappropriate in a fantasy staged in a late Iron Age setting. For example, "do the math," "pyrotechnics," "pneumonia" and so forth are contemporary terms that sit uncomfortably in a quasi-historical narrative. One or two of the plot developments stretched my "suspension of disbelief" just a little too far -- for instance, I found it implausible when a lad as simple and circumspect as Shuibai deliberately wrecked the establishment of the local yakuza boss … and when he and his men didn’t wake up very dead the next morning, after the kind of vengeance spree for which yakuza are infamous.

However, if you can turn the proverbial blind eye where necessary, FIRE DRAGON has much to offer, and comes recommended. It’s fresh and color-saturated, with an enormous depth of world building, and endearing characterization. There’s a lot in it to enjoy. Four stars.