Review of The Book of Fallen Leaves by A.S. Tamaki

It is an unfortunate reality of fiction in 2026 that the reader must do research prior to purchase. There is such an extreme diversity being published that it's more important than ever to know what you're (likely) getting into. Gone are the days of blind jumps leading to a reasonable amount of fun. I am reading a minimum of three reviews and checking if sample pages are available for anything by an author I have not encountered before—which is probably 60-70% of the titles scrolling on my screen. I did my research on The Book of Fallen Leaves by A.S. Tamaki (2026), and it still wasn't enough.

A piece of epic Oriental fantasy, The Book of Fallen Leaves is set twenty years after the Gensei rebellion. The rebelling clan was crushed, it's leader was executed, and its survivors were scattered to the winds. But pride, fate, and honor still burn. The Gensei work in the shadows to re-establish order, their holdings, and their army. Their continued goal: destruction of the emperor, his Ten'in clan and those loyal to him. At the start of the novel, the Gensei's plight again seems headed to defeat, but a handful of cackling gods and demons start to meddle, ensuring no result is certain.

In George R.R. Martin fashion, Fallen Leaves follows a small, rotating set of point-of-view characters. First is Sen and his brother Kai. Their Gensei father was executed for his rebellion, but the the brothers survived, and now live among a distant clan, doing their best to rebuild Gensai legacy. They were rescued by Rui, a peasant woman whose personal traumas see her seeking peace from the gods each and every day. Little does she know how her imploring will impact the coming war. And finally is a Yora. Situated in the emperor's court, he gives readers a view to Ten'in royal life and the internal conflicts occurring in and around the throne. Are they susceptible to a rebellion?

The Book of Fallen Leaves would want itself to be a dark, brooding novel with character front and center. And character is indeed front and center. More slow and monotonous, the dark and brooding never really punches through. Scene after scene drags on and on through mediocre dialogue and mundane exposition. Intentions are clear: a Kurosawa-esque story with elements of fantasy to darken the mood. Execution, unfortunately, doesn't lift the full load beyond intention given better writing finds ways of gaining reader interest in mundane scenes.

The biggest reason for the letdown is tone. It's flat. There is a giant battle at the end of the novel which picks up the pace, but the preceding three hundred pages is a straight road with no curve or hill visible ahead. The road needed rises and falls and clearer distinctions of place and character along the way. Rui, for example, has a proverbial cloud hanging over her life. The art of making that cloud—the tragic and dispiriting emotion—is missing, however. Instead, Rui comes across as dull, uninteresting. Tamaki doesn't take the reader to her heart, her soul. The reader doesn't emote with her. Rather, they are left to observe her, and without more depth or subtlety, disinterest occurs. Likewise Sen, who despite being quite spirited in character, also comes across as a one-note tune.

I briefly mentioned it: scenes drag on. Not all, but many come and go as they please, wandering around with minimal purpose communicated to the reader, or little of significant import to convey. Likewise, many just peter out. Again, intentions are clear: gravitas. But I would argue the novel would have been better off either: A) speeding up the pov rotation by chopping up the chapters into shorter scenes, or B) opting for clean, stop-start transitions within each pov chapter to remove interstitial narrative fluff. Pace would have improved and Tamaki would have been forced to be more direct, more punchy with scene arcs.

Sad to say, The Book of Fallen Leaves feels like a writers workshop novel—a novel that has been peer-reviewed to the point of mediocrity. There are no rough edges, no prosaic daring, no story or character risks, no profound aphorisms. Cover copy read “Honor. Sacrifice. Vengeance.” That could be put on thousands of novels. What is special about Fallen Leaves?

Before closing the review, there are some positives. I tried to think of a novel to compare Fallen Leaves to, but couldn't. Sean Russel's Initiate Brother duology is likewise feudal Japan, but it's epic, secondary world fantasy. It doesn't have the 'grimdark' tone of Tamaki's novel, nor the gods and demons. The closest I could come to is Richard Park's Yamada Monogatari. But its aims are more Sekiro or Nioh in aim, than Kurasawa...

In the end, The Book of Fallen Leaves is, like the majority of fantastika today, average. It will likely have more appeal to readers who stick to the hallways of grimdark/epic fantasy, but that doesn't change the fact the book does little to distinguish itself in the castle beyond. Diction is average. The scene setting is average. The story is average. Characters are average. Dialogue is average. By rule, the majority of fantasty is average, so it fits in. Which also means it's not bad. I pushed ahead on that straight, unbroken road to the end. No dead-ends or untraversable terrain were encountered. Your mileage may vary...