
"This is just like [Brand X]!"
This is the most common sentence in modern fiction. It is also the most annoying sentence in modern fiction. Every time I encounter it in a story, I always roll my eyes, shake my head, and ignore the sentence. And usually the following paragraph too. Every reference to contemporary pop culture is a postule on the page, unworthy to be read and remembered.
Then I read Guy Gavriel Kay's River of Stars.
Sailing through the plot, recognition washed over me. Here was a story arc from Outlaws of the Marsh. There was a parallel to a real-world military disaster. And the male protagonist, Ren Daiyan, lives a life inspired by the feats of the legendary Marshal Yue Fei.
In primary school, I learned the story of Yue Fei. Renowned for his patriotism and military genius, he is a Chinese folk hero who led the army of the late Northern Song Dynasty against Jin invaders. As an adult, I study an art allegedly created by Yue Fei. Outlaws of the Marsh is one of the earliest, most famous of the classical Chinese novels, also set in the Northern Song Dynasty, following the exploits of 108 outlaws who rebelled against the government, and later fought against invasion from the north.
Every chapter and every beat filled me with fresh wonder. For the first time in months, years even, I didn't feel jaded when ready a fantasy book. Ever reference to the life of Yue Fei and Outlaws of the Marsh brought a smile of delight.
And, at the same time, a knowing sorrow.
I knew how the stories of Yue Fei and Outlaws of the Marsh ended. So would anyone with an interest in Chinese culture. I knew how River of Stars would end. And yet, I followed the novel all the way to the bitter end.
Why did references to pop culture provoke derision and scorn, but references to Chinese culture evoke delight? I can think of three reasons: The Three Nos.