Hello friends! Yes, I’m back. Shocking, isn’t it? After a long hiatus (and a terrible reading year), I finally felt the urge to write again. Let’s get into it, shall we?
Wu Zetian is one of my favorite historical figures. Perhaps like many in the West, I was introduced to her a decade ago through Tumblr and Empress of China. I recently found a YouTube account that has the English subtitles. No surprise, I found myself itching to read books about Wu Zetian. This leads me to Weina Dai Randel’s Empress of Bright Moon duology. The duology includes The Moon in the Palace and The Empress of Bright Moon. I read both books back in 2016, so I thought, “Why not make these my first reads of 2026?”
Should have left them back in 2016.
Weina Dai Randel’s The Moon in the Palace and The Empress of Bright Moon are disappointing and frustrating reads. She manages to turn interesting historical figures into one-dimensional, lackluster characters. Unfortunately for all of us, she makes some into mustache-twirling villains to keep Wu Mei — her version of Wu Zetian — perfect, good, and pure.
Honestly, I wish I had a glass of wine right now.
Series Title: Empress of the Bright Moon
Titles in the Series: The Moon in the Palace and The Empress of Bright Moon
Author: Weina Dai Randel
Publisher: Sourcebooks Landmark
Publication Date: 2016
TW/CW: Animal death, child abuse, child murder, violence, body shaming, misogyny
Synopsis for The Moon in the Palace: There is no easy path for a woman aspiring to power. . . .
A concubine at the palace learns quickly that there are many ways to capture the Emperor’s attention. Many paint their faces white and style their hair attractively, hoping to lure in the One Above All with their beauty. Some present him with fantastic gifts, such as jade pendants and scrolls of calligraphy, while others rely on their knowledge of seduction to draw his interest. But young Mei knows nothing of these womanly arts, yet she will give the Emperor a gift he can never forget.
Mei’s intelligence and curiosity, the same traits that make her an outcast among the other concubines, impress the Emperor. But just as she is in a position to seduce the most powerful man in China, divided loyalties split the palace in two, culminating in a perilous battle that Mei can only hope to survive.
The first volume of the Empress of Bright Moon duology paints a vibrant portrait of ancient China—where love, ambition, and loyalty can spell life or death—and the woman who came to rule it all.
StoryGraph | Goodreads | BookshopOrg | Amazon |
Synopsis for The Empress of Bright Moon: In the captivating sequel to The Moon in the Palace, Mei must protect her people from a murderous empress.
The second book in this stunning duology, The Empress of Bright Moon follows Mei as she struggles for power within the Emperor’s palace, risking her life to dethrone the murderous Empress and establish herself as the new female ruler of China.
After Mei’s lover, Pheasant, is crowned Emperor, a power struggle erupts between Mei and Pheasant’s wife, Empress Wang. Both women are desperate to secure their name and rank. But when Empress Wang takes their feud to a new level by murdering Mei’s supporters, Mei realizes that she must defeat the bloodthirsty Empress—not only to save herself, but also to protect her country.
StoryGraph | Goodreads | BookshopOrg | Amazon |
Let’s talk about the positives first, shall we? After all, it can’t all be bad, right?
The Moon in the Palace and The Empress of Bright Moon are two historical fiction novels that explore events that occurred in Asia before the 1800s. The books feature historical figures not often depicted in Western media. Some of the plotlines were interesting and held my attention. I didn’t feel like I was reading a history book.
In fact, I spent the span of both books thanking God that these were just that: fictional.
The truth is that both of these books were perfect examples of an interesting concept (i.e., a historical fiction novel about Wu Zetian and her rise to power) but poor execution. A quick Wikipedia and Britannica read will tell you that despite Wu’s administrative reforms and governing abilities, she is vilified for her actions as she climbed through the ranks. Historians traditionally portray her as a cruel, manipulative woman who strangled her own infant daughter and deposed her rivals without mercy. It’s only recently that historians have looked beyond the hearsay to highlight Wu’s reforms, from elevating women’s roles to overhauling the imperial examination system to improving life for peasants in Tang China.
However, I found Dai Randel’s Wu Mei to be a poor facsimile of the historical Wu Zetian.
At no point in either book did I go, “Oh yeah, I can totally see how she’s going to become this manipulative woman capable of taking over the Imperial Chinese government and ruling as the only female emperor in Chinese history.” Dai Randel created a character that is, unfortunately, weak and pathetic. Wu Mei is driven not by ambition for power or even revenge, but by love.
Um, what?
Maybe this is me being nitpicky, especially since the story starts with Wu Mei as a teenager. It’s okay to depict teenage characters as innocent, with good intentions, like saving her family. Wu Mei is, what? Thirteen? Fourteen? I’m not expecting her to be a master manipulator or wanting to become huanghou (empress) from the start.
However, I expected to see this Cinderella-esque character develop from a pure, innocent teenager into a power-hungry woman willing to do whatever it takes to obtain and keep power.
In Dai Randel’s attempt to be Wu Zetian’s knight in shining armor, she turns Wu Mei into a passive wallflower — a victim who can do no wrong and a goody-two-shoes. If you gave me Wu Mei’s internal dialogue from the two books and asked me to differentiate between them, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference because Wu Mei had no development in the span of the two books.
The supporting cast doesn’t do the narrative any favors, either. The other characters exist only to keep Wu Mei on her pedestal. They fall into one of two camps: the “dull as a doorknob” allies who worshipped the ground she walks on, or her cartoonish, mustache-twirling rivals.
See the problem?
Okay, maybe one character wasn’t bad at first: Jewel. At least with Jewel, she played a role in creating a situation where Wu Mei had to grow and learn. But once that conflict was over, it felt as though that development was temporary.
It’s a shame, really. She was the only one out of a cast of characters with a shred of personality and history. She, at least, had some sort of motivation to be on one side versus the other without being totally dull or cartoonish.
Let’s look at the characters who are on Wu Mei’s side for a moment.
Pheasant (Emperor Gaozong) loves Wu Mei simply because history dictates it. We certainly love a romance lacking chemistry and featuring a bizarre sex scene (fade to black of course) that miraculously cures a woman’s paralyzed legs. He is a non-entity without Wu Mei; he can’t function as emperor or defy his uncle without her constant support. When he does act against his uncle (the Regent), he is merely throwing a tantrum. This characterization would be acceptable if his dependency and uselessness drove Wu Mei to be more ruthless. Hell, I would have been fine with that. Unfortunately, Wu Mei remains as pure as white snow.
But at least I could sort of believe Pheasant and Wu Mei’s relationship: they’re both idiots.
On the flip side, I found Wu Mei’s friendship with Gaoyang difficult to believe.
Aside from their mutual dislike of Empress Wang and the Regent, what else tied them together in the bonds of friendship? In fact, what was the point of Gaoyang? Was she merely a protector sent by Pheasant? Or was she just a convenient companion since Wu Mei needed a female friend around her age?
It’s rather telling that Wu Mei’s only real “friend” is someone who can’t compete for the affections of either Emperor Taizong or Pheasant.
I also had major issues with the duology’s chosen antagonists.
While the characters that sided with Wu Mei only existed to fawn over her, those who opposed her were created to do harm. In short, they’re cartoonish and unrealistic.
Interestingly enough, traits traditionally attributed to Wu Zetian—from being hypersexual to being domineering, violent, and power-hungry—are projected onto her rivals instead.
Dai Randel wanted to make her version of Wu Zetian beyond reproach.
Take, for example, Emperor Taizong’s behavior in The Moon in the Palace. Dai Randel depicts him as both a lecherous scoundrel and an impotent old man; her version of Taizong is pitiful and prone to childlike tantrums. Instead of portraying him as one of China’s greatest emperors who led the nation into a golden age, the author presents a man who “had hanged the maids for putting him in the wrong dress” and who would sentence a woman to death “under the hooves of horses.” She ultimately reduces this historical giant to a weak figure in need of an ancient version of Viagra.
There is nothing inherently wrong with depicting characters as deviants or pitiful human beings.
However, I take issue when authors don’t take the time to find the balance. Go ahead and write that character as childish, prone to violence! But the narrative suffers when there is no counterweight between the protagonist’s virtues and the antagonists’ flaws.
Let me go on.
Look at how Dai Randel chose to write the Regent and Empress Wang, the two “big bads” in the second novel, The Empress of Bright Moon.
The Regent takes on the role of power-hungry uncle who impedes Pheasant’s ability to rule and blocks Wu’s rise to power. In an effort to keep Wu Mei perfect and pure, Dai Randel makes the Regent the sole ambitious, power-hungry figure, going as far as to have him forge Emperor Taizong’s will to stay in power.
I wouldn’t have minded this if there were more nuance!
Imagine how more compelling it would be if the Regent slowly lost himself to power. What if he started off genuinely trying to guide Pheasant towards being a better ruler, only to slowly undermine him as time went on? A stronger writer would have framed this as a tragic betrayal between uncle and nephew, rather than taking the easy way out and resorting to a mustache-twirling cliché.
Then we have Empress Wang, another character who suffered at Dai Randel’s hand in the author’s endeavor to be Wu Zetian’s white knight.
Oh, where do I even start with Empress Wang? I think of all the characters in the Empress of Bright Moon duology, it’s a tie between Empress Wang and Wu Mei for the most poorly executed characterizations.
While Wu Mei is uplifted to the loftiest of heights, Empress Wang gets dragged down into the depths.
Historically, Empress Wang was Pheasant’s neglected wife who attempted to utilize Wu Zetian to topple her rival, Consort Xiao. Eventually, Wu and Wang became rivals themselves; Wang was subsequently accused of both witchcraft and the murder of Wu’s infant daughter. Empress Wang and Consort Xiao were eventually deposed, imprisoned, and then sentenced to death.
In Dai Randel’s The Empress of Bright Moon, Empress Wang is portrayed as a bloodthirsty, jealous, and “crazy” childless wife. She is cartoonishly horrid, going as far as to kill a dog and serve its meat to Wu Mei. Yes, Dai Randel makes Empress Wang a dog killer.
Oh, and we shouldn’t forget the other atrocities the author has her character commit!
Empress Wang is depicted as a brutal tyrant who terrorizes her rivals and tortures them. She imprisons Pure Lady (this book’s Consort Xiao) and her son, ensuring their abuse and destroying their mental well-being. Aside from her mistreatment of the other women and servants, animal abuse, and child abuse, Dai Randel’s Empress Wang is also — yup, you guessed it — a child killer.
Yes, that’s right. Rather than having Wu Mei kill her infant daughter or letting the baby’s death be a tragic accident, the author chose to turn Empress Wang into a baby killer to keep her protagonist’s hands clean.
I have no issue with turning Empress Wang (or anyone else) into a villain, but where is the nuance? Apparently, in the author’s eyes, being childless and lacking a man’s affection is enough to turn a woman into a child-murdering sociopath. Oh wait, no — sorry. What is it that our lovely protagonist tells her rival again?
“You are not a woman,” Dai Randel’s Wu Mei sneers at Empress Wang during the story’s climax. Wu Mei further insults Empress Wang and tells her that she is “hideous”, “uglier than a toad, and will never get Pheasant’s love.
Mind you, this is after Empress Wang tells Wu Mei about the humiliation she’s experienced at Pheasant’s hand in their nine years of marriage.
In the hands of a better writer, Empress Wang could have been a sympathetic figure — a victim of both her circumstances and of Pheasant. But by the time we get to this speech from her, Empress Wang had already killed the dog, abused another consort and her child, and killed the protagonist’s daughter. It’s as though Dai Randel didn’t want us to feel sorry for anyone else but Wu Mei; she wanted her main character to be the only victim.
It’s a shame! With more nuanced writing and better editors, Pheasant and the men in this duology could have been presented as the real villains of the narrative.
Final Word
I give the Empress of Bright Moon duology by Dai Randel an F or 1 star. Both The Moon in the Palace and The Empress of Bright Moon suffer from poor writing and even worse characterizations.
Dai Randel spends more time trying to rescue Wu Zetian from history than she does actually trying to write a nuanced novel about China’s only female emperor. She joins the ranks of other historical fiction authors who don’t understand that it is entirely possible to write balanced characters. Newsflash! You don’t need to drag characters down to uplift one into the loftiest of heights.
I can’t recommend this duology. Do yourselves a favor and pick up another book from your local bookstores or library.
What do you guys think? Have you picked up the novels? Do you have any historical fiction novel you can recommend? Let me know!
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