There’s something magical about a book that begins with the sky being “too clear, too blue” for a tiger slaying ceremony. Julia and Brad Riew’s debut novel The Last Tiger doesn’t just announce itself with this striking opening—it establishes a tonal complexity that carries throughout their ambitious tale of forbidden love, colonial resistance, and the power of hope to resurrect a silenced people.
Drawing from their own grandparents’ love story during the Japanese occupation of Korea, the Riew siblings have crafted a young adult fantasy that feels both intimately personal and sweepingly epic. The result is a novel that succeeds magnificently in its emotional core while occasionally stumbling under the weight of its own ambitious scope.
A Tale of Two Worlds Colliding
At its heart, The Last Tiger follows Lee Seung, a servant boy scraping by in the Tiger Colonies, and Choi Eunji, a nobleman’s daughter suffocating under the expectations of her yangban family. Their initial collision during a tiger slaying ceremony—a brutal public spectacle designed to crush the spirit of the colonized Tiger people—sets in motion a story that expertly weaves together themes of class struggle, cultural identity, and the transformative power of love.
The world-building here is particularly impressive. The Riew siblings have created a fantasy version of colonial Korea where the Dragon Empire has systematically erased not just political autonomy but the very existence of Tiger ki—magical powers that once belonged to the Tiger people. This metaphor for cultural genocide feels both fantastical and painfully real, giving the novel a weight that elevates it beyond typical YA fare.
Seung’s journey from a boy who believes the colonial lie that the Exam offers real opportunity to someone who discovers his own Tiger ki powers mirrors many young adults’ awakening to systemic injustice. His voice carries a raw authenticity that makes his rage and hope equally compelling. When he realizes that the Exam is designed to maintain the illusion of possibility while ensuring failure, his fury feels visceral and justified.
The Complexity of Eunji’s Character Arc
Eunji presents a more complicated protagonist, and here the novel truly shines. Rather than making her a simple rebel against tradition, the authors allow her to genuinely struggle with privilege, duty, and desire. Her decision to pursue Dragon ki powers at Adachi Academy isn’t portrayed as inherently wrong but as a complex choice born from her own desire for agency in a patriarchal society.
The authors deserve particular credit for not vilifying Eunji’s initial path. Her determination to excel, her climb from seventeenth to fourth in her class, and her genuine belief that power might grant her freedom all feel authentic to someone trying to work within an oppressive system. When she eventually breaks away from this path, the transformation feels earned rather than convenient.
Where Ancient Magic Meets Modern Resistance
The magic system centered around different types of ki—Dragon, Serpent, and Tiger—serves as more than window dressing. Each form of ki reflects the cultural values and struggles of its people. Dragon ki emphasizes strength and dominance, Serpent ki allows control through manipulation, while Tiger ki connects users to collective memory and emotion. This last element proves particularly powerful in the novel’s climactic sequences, where Seung experiences the memories and struggles of his ancestors.
The revelation that Jin possesses Serpent ki and has been working with the underground resistance adds layers of political complexity that keep the story from feeling too binary. Her character represents the difficult choices faced by revolutionaries—sometimes ruthless decisions made in service of liberation that can compromise one’s humanity.
The Love Triangle That Actually Works
Perhaps most surprisingly, the romantic elements of The Last Tiger avoid many of the pitfalls that plague YA romance. The love triangle between Seung, Eunji, and Kenzo Kobayashi doesn’t feel manufactured for drama. Instead, each relationship serves the larger themes of the novel.
Kenzo’s character arc proves particularly compelling. His revelation that he lacks Dragon ki powers but has been living a lie his entire life adds genuine stakes to his relationship with Eunji. The moment when readers discover that Kenzo was the one who turned in the tiger from the opening ceremony creates a moral complexity that elevates him beyond a simple romantic rival.
The evolution from friends to enemies to lovers between Seung and Eunji feels organic because it’s rooted in their changing understanding of themselves and their world. Their relationship deepens as they each discover their own capacity for both love and resistance.
Prose That Sings and Stumbles
The writing in The Last Tiger displays remarkable maturity for a debut novel. The Riew siblings have crafted a voice that feels distinctly Korean-American, incorporating elements of Korean culture and language naturally rather than as exotic decoration. Passages like Seung’s discovery of Tiger ki through ancestral memories demonstrate genuine lyrical power.
However, the novel occasionally suffers from pacing issues in its middle sections. The training sequences at Adachi Academy, while important for Eunji’s character development, sometimes feel repetitive. Similarly, some exposition about the world’s history comes across as slightly heavy-handed, though this may be necessary given the complex political backdrop.
The dual perspective structure generally works well, though there are moments where the voice distinction between Seung and Eunji could be sharper. Both characters occasionally sound too similar in their internal monologues, particularly in the earlier chapters.
The Weight of Historical Memory
What sets The Last Tiger apart from other YA fantasy novels is its deep engagement with real historical trauma. The authors’ note reveals that the story draws from their grandparents’ actual experiences during Japanese colonial rule, and this personal connection infuses the novel with emotional authenticity.
The systematic erasure of Tiger culture in the novel parallels real attempts to destroy Korean identity during colonial occupation. The forced adoption of Dragon language, the rewriting of history textbooks, and the public spectacles designed to humiliate the colonized people all echo historical realities. This grounding in actual trauma gives weight to the fantasy elements and makes the characters’ struggles feel urgent rather than abstract.
Minor Criticisms and Missed Opportunities
While The Last Tiger succeeds admirably in most areas, it’s not without flaws. The novel’s ambitious scope sometimes works against it. The underground resistance movement, while important to the plot, feels underdeveloped compared to the central romance. Characters like Jin deserve more development given their crucial role in the story’s resolution.
Additionally, some of the action sequences in the final act feel rushed. The climactic battle involving all three ki powers and the fate of the last tiger could have benefited from more careful pacing. The resolution, while emotionally satisfying, arrives perhaps too quickly after the novel’s most intense conflicts.
The novel also occasionally falls into YA fantasy conventions that feel less fresh than its unique cultural grounding. Some romantic dialogue veers toward melodrama, and certain plot revelations arrive with insufficient foreshadowing.
A Debut That Announces Major Talent
Despite these minor criticisms, The Last Tiger represents an impressive debut that marks Julia and Brad Riew as voices to watch in young adult literature. Their ability to blend fantasy elements with historical weight, create genuinely complex characters, and explore themes of identity and resistance with nuance suggests writers with both talent and important stories to tell.
The novel’s exploration of how love can become an act of resistance feels particularly timely. In a world where Seung and Eunji’s relationship across class lines is not just forbidden but dangerous, their choice to love each other becomes inherently political. The authors understand that personal liberation and collective liberation are often inseparable.
Final Verdict
The Last Tiger is a debut that roars with ambition and largely delivers on its promises. While it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own scope, the novel succeeds in creating characters readers will care about deeply and a world that feels both fantastical and grounded in real historical pain.
The Riew siblings have given us a love story that matters—one where romance serves revolution and personal growth enables collective resistance. For readers seeking YA fantasy that grapples with serious themes while still delivering on emotional satisfaction, The Last Tiger provides both entertainment and genuine insight into the costs and rewards of fighting for freedom.
This is historical fantasy done right: respectful to its source material, emotionally honest about trauma, and ultimately hopeful about the power of love to change the world. The Last Tiger establishes Julia and Brad Riew as storytellers capable of honoring their ancestors while speaking directly to contemporary readers about courage, identity, and the ongoing struggle for justice.
Books for Readers Who Loved The Last Tiger
If The Last Tiger captured your heart, consider these similar reads:
Historical YA Fantasy:
- Forest of a Thousand Lanterns by Julie C. Dao – Asian-inspired fantasy with complex moral questions
- The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang – Darker military fantasy inspired by Chinese history
- Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan – Resistance romance in fantastical setting
Colonial Resistance Stories:
- An Unkindness of Magicians by Kat Howard – Magic systems and social justice
- The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon – Epic fantasy with political intrigue
Friends-to-Enemies-to-Lovers Romance:
- These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong – Enemies-to-lovers set in 1920s Shanghai
- The Wicked Trilogy by Jennifer L. Armentrout – Fantasy romance with shifting loyalties
Note: This is Julia and Brad Riew’s debut novel, making The Last Tiger their first published work as a collaborative writing team.
