Power and Legitimacy in She Who Became the Sun: Authority Forged, Not Inherited

The Thematic Claim: Authority Is Made, Not Given

In She Who Became the Sun, Shelley Parker-Chan dismantles the idea that political authority flows from divine right, bloodline, or destiny. Instead, the novel presents power as something forged through violence, manipulation, and performance—a fragile construct that must be constantly reasserted. The Mandate of Heaven, the traditional source of imperial legitimacy, is revealed to be a theatrical illusion, a tool wielded by those who understand that belief, not birth, is the true currency of rule. Zhu Chongba’s rise from a peasant girl to a would-be emperor is not a story of inherited greatness but of relentless self-invention, where every claim to authority is bought with blood and sustained by the willingness of others to believe in the mask.

The Performance of Legitimacy

From the opening chapters, legitimacy is presented as a matter of costume and role. After her brother Chongba dies, the girl takes his clothes, his amulet, and his name, declaring herself Zhu Chongba at the monastery gates. This is the first act of political self-fashioning: she does not inherit a destiny, she steals one. The narrator notes that she “assumes his identity” (ch. 1), and her survival depends on maintaining this fiction. The monastery becomes a training ground in the performance of authority—she learns to hide her “female skills,” to mimic the gestures of a monk, and to endure punishment rather than reveal her body (ch. 2).

The novel’s central symbol of legitimacy is the Prince of Radiance, a child who manifests the Mandate of Heaven as a red flame. In chapter 7, Zhu witnesses the child summon fire from his palm, and the crowd roars in awe. Yet the scene is immediately undercut by Yuchun’s cynical aside: “It’s just a light; it doesn’t do anything.” The flame is pure spectacle, a stage effect that converts fear and hope into political capital. The Prime Minister uses it to rally the Red Turbans, and Zhu herself recognizes it as a tool: “This is where it starts” (ch. 7). The Mandate is not a supernatural endorsement but a prop in a larger performance of legitimacy.

Zhu learns this lesson well. When she later secures the loyalty of the artisan Jiao, she demonstrates “a white radiance from her hand” (ch. 21)—a deliberate imitation of the Prince’s flame, a counterfeit miracle designed to manipulate belief. The novel thus establishes that authority is not discovered but staged.

Violence as the Foundation of Authority

If performance creates the appearance of legitimacy, violence is what actually enforces it. Zhu’s path to power is littered with corpses, each killing a deliberate act of self-assertion. She kills Governor Tolochu in Lu, then later murders Prime Minister Liu Futong, declaring “the Mandate is hers” (ch. 21). The killing is not an accident or a moment of passion; it is a calculated removal of a rival who might claim the Prince’s authority for himself.

The most chilling example comes in chapter 24, when Zhu kills the Prince of Radiance himself. The child has just told her, “Liu Futong was never going to rule. But neither will Zhu Chongba.” In that moment, the Prince—the very embodiment of divine legitimacy—denies Zhu’s claim. Her response is to eliminate the source of that denial. She kills the child and then proclaims herself Zhu Yuanzhang, the Radiant King. The act is a brutal assertion that authority belongs to whoever has the will to take it, not to those who are merely chosen.

This pattern is echoed in Ouyang’s storyline. Ouyang, the eunuch general, has spent his life seeking revenge for the slaughter of his family. He manipulates Esen, the Mongol prince, and ultimately kills him, declaring that his army will march on Dadu to kill the Emperor (ch. 22). Ouyang’s authority is built entirely on violence and deception—he has no claim to the Mandate, only to his own hatred. The novel suggests that all political power, whether Mongol or rebel, rests on the same foundation: the willingness to kill.

The Cost of Legitimacy

The novel does not present this forging of authority as triumphant. It is a process that consumes the person who undertakes it. Zhu’s repeated acts of violence and deception erode her sense of self. After the encounter with Lady Rui, she reflects on the “empty hand” she extended in the darkness, hoping to summon the Mandate’s flame—and finding nothing. She realizes that she has “killed for” greatness, but the greatness itself remains abstract, always deferred (ch. 12).

Ma Xiuying, Zhu’s wife, serves as the novel’s moral counterweight. She sees through the performance of legitimacy. When Zhu returns to Anfeng with the Prince, Ma observes that Zhu “was taking every care not to look like a usurper” (ch. 24). Ma understands that Zhu’s humility is a calculated act, and she is horrified by the cost. The ghosts that haunt the narrative—the spirits of the dead who watch the ceremonies—are a reminder that every throne is built on corpses. The ghosts symbol in the novel represents the unacknowledged violence that underlies all claims to power.

Zhu’s own identity becomes a casualty. She began as a girl who wanted only to survive, but by the end she has become “Zhu Yuanzhang,” a name she chooses for herself, erasing the brother whose identity she borrowed. The novel asks whether the person who forges authority can survive the forging.

Complexity and Contradiction

The theme is not simple. The novel simultaneously critiques the idea of divine right and shows that belief in it is necessary for power to function. The Prince of Radiance’s flame is a lie, but it inspires real devotion and real sacrifice. Zhu’s own belief in her fate is both a source of strength and a delusion. She tells herself, “As long as I keep moving towards my great fate, and keep doing what I need to do, one day I’ll have it” (ch. 12)—but the novel leaves open the question of whether she ever truly has it, or whether she has merely convinced herself and others.

The contradiction is most visible in Zhu’s relationship with the Mandate. She kills the Prince to claim it, but the act itself proves that the Mandate is not a supernatural gift—it is whatever the strongest person says it is. Yet Zhu continues to speak of Heaven’s will, using the language of legitimacy even as she subverts it. This is the novel’s central irony: to rule, one must pretend that one’s power is not self-made.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does Zhu’s assumption of her brother’s identity complicate the idea of inherited authority?

Zhu does not inherit Chongba’s fate; she steals it. By taking his clothes, amulet, and name, she demonstrates that identity—and the authority that comes with it—is a performance rather than a birthright. The novel suggests that legitimacy is not a matter of blood but of the willingness to claim and maintain a role.

2. What role does the Prince of Radiance’s flame play in the novel’s critique of divine right?

The flame is a theatrical illusion, a “light that doesn’t do anything” (ch. 7). It is used to manipulate crowds and justify the Red Turbans’ cause. The novel shows that divine right is a social construct, manufactured through spectacle and belief, rather than a genuine supernatural endorsement.

3. How does Zhu’s killing of the Prince of Radiance redefine the source of political power?

By killing the Prince, Zhu destroys the last vestige of inherited legitimacy. She replaces it with a claim based purely on her own will and violence. The act reveals that power ultimately rests on the ability to enforce one’s will, not on any external sanction.

4. In what ways does Ma Xiuying’s perspective challenge Zhu’s pursuit of power?

Ma sees through Zhu’s performance of humility and recognizes the cost of her ambition. She urges Zhu to find another way, and her horror at the Prince’s death highlights the moral price of forging authority through violence. Ma represents the possibility of a different kind of legitimacy, one based on care rather than conquest.

5. How do the symbols of fire and ghosts reinforce the theme of power and legitimacy?

Fire is the visible sign of the Mandate—a tool of persuasion and a marker of divine favor. But it is also destructive, consuming those who wield it. Ghosts represent the unacknowledged violence that underpins all authority; they are the spectral witnesses to the killings that make power possible. Together, they suggest that legitimacy is a haunted, burning illusion.