Yatagarasu Series
Volume 2:
The Raven Does Not
Choose Its Master
Author: Chisato Abe
VOLUME 2 - MASTER POST
Commentary by Hiroko Ouya
Some books provoke a special kind of reaction in me; they make me want to go out and buy everything the author’s ever written so that I can read it. Ono Fuyumi’s The Twelve Kingdoms, Uehashi Nahoko’s The Beast Player, and Kanno Yukimushi’s Sonin series have all sparked that kind of reaction in me. I rush to buy new books by these authors every time one comes out.
It wasn’t always that way. I used to think that fantasy simply wasn’t for me. I was missing out on masterpieces! I’m happy that I haven’t wasted any time in devouring the Yatagarasu series the same way I have so many others.
Because I’ve missed out on great series before due to silly preconceptions, I want to bold and highlight this: don’t miss out. This series is the real deal. I’d recommend it to everyone who likes the other series I mentioned, of course, but also to those who like fantasy, historical novels and mysteries with unexpected twists and turns.
And now it sounds like I’ve hyped it too much, so you might be disappointed. I don’t know about that, since I can’t speak for everyone’s preferences. But I think you’re going to like this one.
Let me introduce the general outline of this series so far. The setting is a country called Yamauchi. Legend has it that the nation was founded by the mountain god. The ruler of Yamauchi is the Emperor, who is also called the Golden Raven. Four powerful noble families—descendants of the original Golden Raven—control territories to the north, south, east and west.
Yamauchi’s people are Yatagarasu. They usually take human shapes, but they can transform into large three-legged ravens and are born from eggs.
Obviously, this is a fantasy world, but it is a low magic fantasy world. Technology is stuck in medieval times and the class system is close to the European feudalism of the Middle Ages. Political marriages are common. Clothing is traditional Japanese clothing like kimono, with no imported styles. Most people travel on foot, or they hire or become ‘horses’ in their raven forms, carrying people and goods from place to place through the air. There are four seasons, standard divisions of months and days, and familiar flora like cherry blossoms that make the world familiar to us and similar to Japan’s ancient history. Yatagarasu also use a writing system that relies on Chinese kanji logograms, as is seen in the first book; Asebi’s name, for example, is spelled with the kanji characters for ‘horse’ and ‘drunkenness.’
(To jump ahead a little, if you read the third book, you’ll see that the unit of length used is “shaku,” and the unit of time is “koku.” These were standard units of measurement in ancient Japan.)
Except for the fact that people can transform into ravens, reading the Yatagarasu series feels just like reading a Heian period (794 to 1185 CE) suspenseful political drama. The ease of immersion is likely one reason why the series has gained such widespread appeal. The nuts and bolts of world building get a lot more attention starting in the third book, though, so don’t expect the first and second books to fill in all the details about the world!
This book, The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master, is the second in the series and follows Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono. The first book mostly concerns the duchesses of Sakura Palace and their attempts at becoming the Crown Prince’s bride. Most of the characters in that book are women and their political games reflect that. The novel is part romance, part coming-of-age story, and half murder mystery.
Chisato Abe won the 19th Matsumoto Seichō Prize for Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono, energetically (really energetically!) making her debut in the literary world as a 20-year-old university student author. I read it all in one go and lost track of time. Like I said before, I’m really happy that I tried out this series right away and didn’t waste any time.
At the time when I read it, only one book was published for this series. I really wanted to read the next one and hoped that the quality of the writing would be maintained. The only question I had at the end of Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono concerned the Crown Prince: what on earth was he doing when he was supposed to be in Sakura Palace? So much tragedy could have been prevented in that book if he’d shown up when he was supposed to. I wanted him to act like a responsible adult and clear up any miscommunications between himself, the duchesses and his (step)mother.
But the Crown Prince only showed up at the very end, and many of the conflicts in Sakura Palace remained unresolved. Why? I was dissatisfied with the Crown Prince’s depiction in the first book and wanted an explanation.
The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master satisfied me completely. I understood perfectly why the Crown Prince spent almost no time in Sakura Palace. How could he, given the dangerous situation he was in? The book takes place concurrently with Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono, which tells us what the duchesses were doing. This book fills in what the Crown Prince was doing. The books are two halves of a whole story. Every once in a while, a scene overlaps but from a different perspective. I found these sections fascinating. The two parts of the story are intricately connected.
Apparently, The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master was always planned. Chisato Abe tried to write both stories into the same book by alternating perspectives, with some chapters narrated by “the gentle women” and others by “the brave men.” Ultimately, she chose to divide the story in two, not because the stories are unconnected but because they build on one another.
The theme of each novel is also different.
Finally, it’s time for the summary! (Sorry for rambling on and on.)
The protagonist of this book is Yukiya, the second son of the village leader of Taruhi, a small village in Hokke territory. He is a boy who has not yet come of age. His younger brother has surpassed him academically, and he is famous for surrendering instantly in any sparring matches. He is called a good-for-nothing second son. His family worries for his future.
“To think you are a son of a warrior family—how disappointing. Don’t you have any ambition at all?” the Lord of Hokke asks him. “Not even a little bit” is Yukiya’s reply. And he’s honest when he says that.
By a strange twist of fate, Yukiya ends up as the personal attendant of the Crown Prince in Yamauchi’s capital. Most other boys would consider this a stroke of good fortune, but Yukiya hates every second. The Crown Prince is worse than an eccentric. He is selfish, breaks established court traditions without a thought, and frequents gambling dens and pleasure houses. Everyone believes that the Crown Prince is a fool.
Japan has a long history of telling stories like these. Fools in stories are never stupid. Oda Nobunaga is a famous example. Characters described as good-for-nothing are often heroes in fiction; Nakamura Mondo is the usual example there.
Some of the best scenes of the book are the conversations between Yukiya and the Crown Prince, who are both considered good-for-nothing second sons. Neither of them are even remotely foolish or incompetent. When Yukiya cried out, “Are you stupid?! How reckless can you be?!”, I laughed out loud. The book itself is funny, situationally and in its dialogue.
Yukiya is incredibly endearing—he’s smart, quick-witted, and always on the move. Watching him rise to the Crown Prince’s challenges every time is so delightful.
Like the first book, there is a second story lurking beneath the veneer of the story on the surface. Schemes and political intrigue swirl around Yukiya and the Crown Prince. Family strife between the Crown Prince and his older brother drives most of the plot. A powerful faction that backs the Crown Prince’s brother turns radical and extremist. The Crown Prince dodges death—with Yukiya’s help—several times.
Yukiya and Sumio are the Crown Prince’s only allies for most of the novel. Sumio is a childhood friend who excels at martial arts. Yukiya, the newcomer, must earn trust—and give it.
And of course there’s at least one traitor. Information is a slippery commodity that passes from hand to hand, and everyone’s trying to figure out who knows what and why. The truth is astonishing and many-layered, and the repercussions of this war of information will ripple into the rest of the series.
This story is not about traitors, though, not really. It’s about what it means to be loyal. Prince Natsuka’s servants are loyal, and so are the Crown Prince’s, but their loyalty expresses itself in different ways. Some people are only loyal to their families or even just themselves.
As for Yukiya: he is loyal to Taruhi Village and his family, and nothing that happens in the novel changes that.
Loyalty as a concept is presented as a desire for another person’s happiness. But what does that truly mean? Atsufusa believes himself loyal because of the happy future he foresees for Natsuka, but Natsuka never asked for such a future.
One twist of the theme is that loyalty has a terrible capacity to harm both the servant and the one served. Dishonesty and underhanded tactics undermine foundations of trust. Without trust, there can be no true loyalty.
I thought about family bonds and loyalty while reading the novel. We often see parents praising their children for their achievements because they wish them to be happy, but the child might take that praise for pressure instead. Intentions matter, but clear communication matters more.
Yukiya is still a child. He does his best to think of others and act on their behalf, but he often loses sight of all the people who are looking out for his welfare, including the Crown Prince. Yukiya’s feelings about care and attention are confused. He is concerned about being used because he doesn’t want to use people. His relationships are all completely voluntary and based on trust and friendship.
The conflict intensifies around the theme. What is more important: expectations—doing what your loyal servants expect of you—or personal desires? This dilemma is a key element in the story. Yukiya’s personal growth revolves around this; he never wanted to serve the Crown Prince, but by serving and being loyal, he gains both self-understanding and a perspective of the world that he can use to help Taruhi Village. The Crown Prince lives his life flying in the face of all expectations, but not because of whims or desires. His actions are calculated to keep himself alive so that he can rule Yamauchi during a time of great political strife.
Some attention should also fall on the relationships between brothers: both Yukiya and Nazukihiko have older brothers who care for them and try to do right by them. No character in the novel believes that they are wrong. They are all trying their best for what they believe in—even Atsufusa.
I am delighted to report that Yatagarasu remains a high-quality series with tight pacing and deliberate planning. I learned recently that the second volume was mostly written at the time when the first volume was published. The overall structure of the entire series has been planned out from the start.
This series is the real thing—but the first two volumes are a prologue to the main event. The real story is about to begin. The Golden Raven has solved murder mysteries, survived several assassination attempts and chosen a bride. The third volume of this series is called The Golden Raven. The Crown Prince will finally confront his enemy the Empress and begin his battle for control of Yamauchi’s future. The Empress he chose in Ravens Shouldn’t Wear Kimono is at his side, as is the loyal attendant he gained in The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master.
This is where the real story starts. I can’t say more without spoilers, but strap in and prepare for an intense imperial mess.
Don’t miss out on the Yatagarasu series!
Translator's Notes
Hiroko Ouya is a Japanese literary critic and reviewer known for her work with mystery literature and as a book reviewer for the Honto.jp website.
Oda Nobunaga (23 June 1534 – 21 June 1582) was a Japanese general. He was one of the leading figures of the Sengoku (Warring States) period. Historically, he is regarded as the first “Great Unifier” of Japan. Stories about his youth often paint him as a buffoon or a simpleton. This is true of contemporaneous historical accounts as well; his brother had rumors spread about his incompetence to govern.
Nakamura Mondo is a character in the TV drama Hissatsu, a series that started in 1972. The plot deals with a team of assassins-for-hire who cover as run-of-the-mill workers. Their murderous methods usually relate to their day job and they only kill people who richly deserve it.
Kneaded incense is made into pellets instead of strips or sticks, as is common. A popular form of kneaded incense in the Heian Period was takimono, which was made famous by the ancient Japanese novel The Tale of Genji.
Karon is a made-up word; the kanji used to spell it mean “nurse” and “rebellion” or “revolt.”
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