Zen Cho
Author of Sorcerer to the Crown
About the Author
Series
Works by Zen Cho
Rising Lion, The Lion Bows 5 copies
Prudence and the Dragon 3 copies
Untitled (Sorcerer Royal, #3) 3 copies
Monkey King, Faerie Queen 2 copies
Liyana {short story} 1 copy
Balik Kampung {short story} 1 copy
Odette {short story} 1 copy
The Fish Bowl {short story} 1 copy
The Guest {short story} 1 copy
Associated Works
The Apex Book of World SF: Volume 4 (Apex World of Speculative Fiction) (2015) — Contributor — 84 copies, 25 reviews
The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, Volume 13 (2019) — Contributor — 67 copies, 3 reviews
Heiresses of Russ 2011: The Year's Best Lesbian Speculative Fiction (2011) — Contributor — 41 copies
How to Live on Other Planets: A Handbook for Aspiring Aliens (2015) — Contributor — 17 copies, 2 reviews
The Future of Horror: The Collected Solaris Horror Anthologies, featuring House of Fear, Magic and End of the Road (2015) — Contributor — 8 copies
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Birthdate
- 1986
- Gender
- female
- Education
- University of Cambridge (BA)
- Occupations
- lawyer
- Agent
- Caitlin Blasdell
- Short biography
- Zen Cho was a member of the Cambridge University Lion Dance Troupe from 2006 to 2008. She was born in Malaysia and is currently based in London.
- Nationality
- Malaysia
UK - Birthplace
- Malaysia
- Places of residence
- London, England, UK
Members
Reviews
This is a companion novel to The Friend Zone Experiment – the main characters here are not related to those from The Friend Zone Experiment, but there are spoiler-ish references to its events and minor characters, so it makes most sense to read this book second.
When Kriya Rajasekar gets a job at a new law firm, she isn’t expecting to have to share an office with Charles Goh.
I often go on about how I prefer single POV romances, but I enjoyed how Cho utilises the dual POV here in ways that add, rather than detract, from the tension (and I’m not really surprised, that was something she did effectively back in >Sorcerer to the Crown). Moreover, I thought the plotline about Kriya’s challenges with her boss was enriched by seeing both her inside experience and Charles’ outside perspective. Similarly, the portrait of Charles himself is more nuanced for seeing him from his own perspective as well as from Kriya’s. I liked how having both perspectives was important for the characters themselves – as well as for the reader – to understand things fully.
I also liked how Charles’ first-person narrative style is so distinct from Kriya’s (which reminded me of the way the two narrators are handled in Beth O’Leary’s The Flatshare). It worked really well, because it fitted well with Charles’ character.
When Kriya Rajasekar gets a job at a new law firm, she isn’t expecting to have to share an office with Charles Goh.
Arthur’s smile dimmed. “Is there a problem?”show more
I hesitated.
I could try explaining that Charles Goh and I were
bound together by an evil fate, from our first encounter at this very firm. But Arthur would think I was nuts. He didn’t know what it was like to keep running into a hot lawyer employed by the firm that rejected you and have it be a disaster every single time.I absolutely adored this book and listened to the whole audiobook in a few days!
It wouldn’t sound plausible. The City of London is actually pretty large. There was no reason I should have seen anything more of Charles Goh after that ill-fated assessment centre. We didn’t even do the same kind of law, apart from the fact that we were both litigators. Yet Charles had kept turning up, over the years.
(“He’s your good friend,” said Zuri.
“He’s my bad luck charm,” I said. “He’s like the omen you see when something terrible is going to happen. Like flocks of birds flying backwards. Rains of frogs.”
“You won the case what,” said Zuri. “The one where he spilled his coffee on you at the big strategy meeting. Eh, and didn’t you win the other court application? That time you were late to court and had to run there with the files on a trolley and he was sitting up there with the judge, watching you, when you went in and rolled the trolley over the client’s foot.” [...])
I often go on about how I prefer single POV romances, but I enjoyed how Cho utilises the dual POV here in ways that add, rather than detract, from the tension (and I’m not really surprised, that was something she did effectively back in >Sorcerer to the Crown). Moreover, I thought the plotline about Kriya’s challenges with her boss was enriched by seeing both her inside experience and Charles’ outside perspective. Similarly, the portrait of Charles himself is more nuanced for seeing him from his own perspective as well as from Kriya’s. I liked how having both perspectives was important for the characters themselves – as well as for the reader – to understand things fully.
I also liked how Charles’ first-person narrative style is so distinct from Kriya’s (which reminded me of the way the two narrators are handled in Beth O’Leary’s The Flatshare). It worked really well, because it fitted well with Charles’ character.
Loretta didn't want to hear about Oldham: “There must be something going on in your life other than work, Charles.” Couldn't think of anything, so told her about the girl on the steps. Didn’t say anything about girl’s looks, but Loretta immediately said: “You fancied her, didn’t you? That’s why you did the awkward turtle thing. Being rude to girls you like doesn’t work in real life, you know. You’re not Fitzwilliam Darcy.”show less
Made the mistake of saying: “What are you talking about?” She forced me to watch highlights video of BBC Pride and Prejudice. I begged off. Fourteen hours per day of staring at a computer at work more than enough screentime for me.
Loretta: “This is why you’re going to die alone. You’re Darcy without the pool scene.”
I really enjoyed this.
Jess was a great protagonist. While she was born in Malaysia to ethnic Chinese parents, they moved to America when she was young and she grew up there. The book starts a few months after Jess has graduated from Harvard and she's moving back to Penang with her parents after her father's battle with cancer left them in financial ruin.
This is essential because Jess' as a character is stuck in-between everything: her and her parents are staying with relatives while they show more try to get back on their feet, she's a lesbian but deeply closeted (something that annoys her secret girlfriend to no end), she's stuck between countries and cultures, and finally it turns out that she's a medium and can see ghosts and gods.
Jess was a really fun character; compassionate, easy to relate to, quite funny. Her extended family are really well-characterized too. There's always a slight 'wackiness' with extended families staying together that the author captures well, like the way everybody talks (loudly) but nobody listens and the way they're always so nosy.
What I liked overall is that this book is about mothers and daughters, but more specifically the pains of misogyny. How one of the deepest connections between mother and daughter is the misogyny they've had to face. I really liked how Zen Cho wove the violence and pain directly into the fabric of the story, the lasting generational trauma of male violence against the main villain more than anything. show less
Jess was a great protagonist. While she was born in Malaysia to ethnic Chinese parents, they moved to America when she was young and she grew up there. The book starts a few months after Jess has graduated from Harvard and she's moving back to Penang with her parents after her father's battle with cancer left them in financial ruin.
This is essential because Jess' as a character is stuck in-between everything: her and her parents are staying with relatives while they show more try to get back on their feet, she's a lesbian but deeply closeted (something that annoys her secret girlfriend to no end), she's stuck between countries and cultures, and finally it turns out that she's a medium and can see ghosts and gods.
Jess was a really fun character; compassionate, easy to relate to, quite funny. Her extended family are really well-characterized too. There's always a slight 'wackiness' with extended families staying together that the author captures well, like the way everybody talks (loudly) but nobody listens and the way they're always so nosy.
What I liked overall is that this book is about mothers and daughters, but more specifically the pains of misogyny. How one of the deepest connections between mother and daughter is the misogyny they've had to face. I really liked how Zen Cho wove the violence and pain directly into the fabric of the story, the lasting generational trauma of male violence against the main villain more than anything. show less
Light as a feather, with lots of wit and humour that keep the reader happy. “Sorcerer to the Crown” is very obviously a fantasy pastiche of Regency romances. The characters are exceedingly likable. When they find themselves in danger, you know that things will sort themselves out in a couple of pages (because it would be absolutely shocking if they did not). You will have a lot of fun with this book, I promise - just don’t go in expecting something like “Jonathan Strange & Mr show more Norrell” (don’t trust that blurb!). show less
A frothy fantasy farce with serious ideas under its lacy skirts; comparing it to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (as many people seem to) feels almost entirely inappropriate to me as I found that novel dour and slow. Sorcerer to the Crown may also be set in a Regency England with a well-established magical tradition, but it has a gleeful exuberance.
If the tone is whimsical, the context is anything but: we meet former slave and newly-appointed Sorcerer Royal Zacharias Wythe in mourning for his show more adoptive father. Elevated to the highest thaumaturgical office on his father's death, he is undermined and threatened by the racial prejudice of his sorcerous colleagues and under pressure from the Government to help them out with a 'little problem' in the colonies. The snubs and backstabbing provide a major plot thread, but the novel lays out the politics and moves right on without getting bogged down.
Zacharias travels to the country to escape a vicious rumour that he killed his father. He also needs to replenish England's diminishing magic with some clever spell-casting on the Fairy borders (another plot thread; needless to say nothing is simple), but he visits a school of 'gentlewitches' on the way as a favour to a good friend (the joke tied up with said friend took 250 pages to catch up with me- sometimes the intimidating aunt really is a dragon ). Here we meet the outrageous Prunella Gentleman, orphan, magical prodigy and unstoppable force of nature.
One of the things I delight in across all of Zen Cho's work are her ferocious female characters. Prunella is half-'foreign' (uncovering her parentage being a peripheral storyline), with no prospects and absolutely no idea of how much is too much. She throws herself into situations that anyone with half an ounce of common sense would shy away from and pooh-poohs most of the strictures of polite society. She's delightful, and she gets away with it all by combining wide-eyed naivete with a self-absorbed lack of regard for the opinions of others. Prunella was made to tiptoe through Gothic corridors getting into trouble (but she'd probably frighten the monsters), or - as here - to storm the sensibilities of British Magic. She's arguably a little too perfect - too bright, too pretty, too talented, too brave - but I was too charmed and giggling too much to care.
She is a vivid contrast to poor, put-upon Zacharias, who is all woe and duty and has a dark secret besides. When he decides that women can and should be formally trained in magic (the school of gentlewitches actually teaches them to suppress their powers), and that Prunella will be his project, it's painfully clear that he's bitten off far more than he'd be able to chew even if he didn't have so much on his plate already. It's ironic that Prunella appears to be every bit as frivolous as England's thaumaturges fear 'females' will be (GAH. But, this is also a book laughing in the face of sexism, so) and in spite of this is a better magic user than any of them.
In spite of this, she's over-shadowed by Malaysian witch Mak Genggang whenever the cantankerous old lady is on-page. She is a powerful, browbeating archetype who is determined to get what she needs from Zacharias and stymie the British government in their interference. If Prunella doesn't much care for conventions, Mak Genggang simply doesn't know they exist - she is a hurricane that storms through a scene, upsets everything in sight (and, inevitably, makes Zacharias' life even more complicated).
Between the sorcerers manoeuvering to strip him of his staff, a fragile relationship with the Fairy Court, a magical situation even more complicated than it seemed, a mysterious illness he tries to hide from everyone, and a highly talented young lady more intent on finding a husband than mastering the principles of thaumaturgy (Prunella thinks magic is great; learning less so), Zacharias has more than enough on his hands.
It's sometimes silly, over the top stuff, and I had to be in the right mood to enjoy it. Thankfully, the writing is polished and Cho masters the mannered Regency dialogue, which could have been a real stumbling block if done poorly. She also sustains multiple inter-related plots and adds nuance around racism, sexism and colonialism without the whole thing feeling over-burdened. I liked the occasional darker touches - Cho has always blended sour with sweet in her short stories, and she's not afraid for her protagonists to be ruthless (Nidget! ), which stops this being too saccharine however cosy it all feels (at no point did I think I was in for an unhappy ending, although I wasn't sure how the challenges would be resolved ).
I think Zen Cho is one to watch, and I'll certainly watch out for the sequels. show less
If the tone is whimsical, the context is anything but: we meet former slave and newly-appointed Sorcerer Royal Zacharias Wythe in mourning for his show more adoptive father. Elevated to the highest thaumaturgical office on his father's death, he is undermined and threatened by the racial prejudice of his sorcerous colleagues and under pressure from the Government to help them out with a 'little problem' in the colonies. The snubs and backstabbing provide a major plot thread, but the novel lays out the politics and moves right on without getting bogged down.
Zacharias travels to the country to escape a vicious rumour that he killed his father. He also needs to replenish England's diminishing magic with some clever spell-casting on the Fairy borders (another plot thread; needless to say nothing is simple), but he visits a school of 'gentlewitches' on the way as a favour to a good friend (the joke tied up with said friend took 250 pages to catch up with me
One of the things I delight in across all of Zen Cho's work are her ferocious female characters. Prunella is half-'foreign' (uncovering her parentage being a peripheral storyline), with no prospects and absolutely no idea of how much is too much. She throws herself into situations that anyone with half an ounce of common sense would shy away from and pooh-poohs most of the strictures of polite society. She's delightful, and she gets away with it all by combining wide-eyed naivete with a self-absorbed lack of regard for the opinions of others. Prunella was made to tiptoe through Gothic corridors getting into trouble (but she'd probably frighten the monsters), or - as here - to storm the sensibilities of British Magic. She's arguably a little too perfect - too bright, too pretty, too talented, too brave - but I was too charmed and giggling too much to care.
She is a vivid contrast to poor, put-upon Zacharias, who is all woe and duty and has a dark secret besides. When he decides that women can and should be formally trained in magic (the school of gentlewitches actually teaches them to suppress their powers), and that Prunella will be his project, it's painfully clear that he's bitten off far more than he'd be able to chew even if he didn't have so much on his plate already. It's ironic that Prunella appears to be every bit as frivolous as England's thaumaturges fear 'females' will be (GAH. But, this is also a book laughing in the face of sexism, so) and in spite of this is a better magic user than any of them.
In spite of this, she's over-shadowed by Malaysian witch Mak Genggang whenever the cantankerous old lady is on-page. She is a powerful, browbeating archetype who is determined to get what she needs from Zacharias and stymie the British government in their interference. If Prunella doesn't much care for conventions, Mak Genggang simply doesn't know they exist - she is a hurricane that storms through a scene, upsets everything in sight (and, inevitably, makes Zacharias' life even more complicated).
Between the sorcerers manoeuvering to strip him of his staff, a fragile relationship with the Fairy Court, a magical situation even more complicated than it seemed, a mysterious illness he tries to hide from everyone, and a highly talented young lady more intent on finding a husband than mastering the principles of thaumaturgy (Prunella thinks magic is great; learning less so), Zacharias has more than enough on his hands.
It's sometimes silly, over the top stuff, and I had to be in the right mood to enjoy it. Thankfully, the writing is polished and Cho masters the mannered Regency dialogue, which could have been a real stumbling block if done poorly. She also sustains multiple inter-related plots and adds nuance around racism, sexism and colonialism without the whole thing feeling over-burdened. I liked the occasional darker touches - Cho has always blended sour with sweet in her short stories, and she's not afraid for her protagonists to be ruthless (
I think Zen Cho is one to watch, and I'll certainly watch out for the sequels. show less
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Statistics
- Works
- 35
- Also by
- 21
- Members
- 4,729
- Popularity
- #5,325
- Rating
- 3.8
- Reviews
- 277
- ISBNs
- 96
- Languages
- 2
- Favorited
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