“Things only have the value we give to them. And likewise, actions can be worth whatever we decide them to be worth.”
Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is Brandon Sanderson’s exploration of the power of art, told through a Japanese-inspired adventure in the Cosmere. While this novel has many similarities to other Sanderson works I have read (The Stormlight Archive and Tress of the Emerald Sea), this is by far Sanderson’s best effort at social commentary and romance.
The two protagonists, the titular Yumi and a Nightmare Painter named Nikaro, each interact with spirits through the act of creation. Yumi, a priestess known as a yoki-hijo, lives a life of regimented isolation in which she is waited upon by attendants who watch and script her every move. Her purpose is to create intricate stacks of stones that attract spirits which can bless her people. Nikaro (often referred to as Painter), meanwhile, hails from a modern city surrounded by seemingly eternal darkness. He is a Nightmare Painter—his job: to paint the nightmares that stalk the streets at night into non-threatening forms before they feed on the innocent and solidify into walking horrors. This novel explores the relationship that develops when these two people from seemingly different worlds are brought together and forced to live the other’s reality. Much of the first half of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is spent merely exploring the tensions between Yumi’s highly structured and institutional spirituality with Painter’s free-wheeling approach to creation. And this relationship really works. Sanderson easily convinces readers throughout this book that these two characters are each made whole by the other, and their physical chemistry (despite, or perhaps because, they cannot really touch each other) is also quite convincing.
Furthermore, what makes Yumi and the Nightmare Painter compelling is Sanderson’s decision to make the villain of this book a machine that is the antithesis of what Yumi and Painter value—art, individuality, spiritual freedom, and human connection. It is very difficult to read this novel and not feel like you are receiving Sanderson’s feelings about automation and artificial intelligence.
Much like fellow standalone Cosmere novel, Tress of the Emerald Sea, worldbuilding is a mixed bag here. Everything that Sanderson has created specifically for this story is brilliant and beautiful. The problem, ironically, is the Cosmere of it all. As with Tress of the Emerald Sea, having this book told from Hoid’s perspective lessened some of its heft and made it feel whimsical and quirky in ways that felt very out of place. A couple other broader Cosmere characters who show up at a certain restaurant in Painter’s city also stick out like a sore thumb. Other than that and Sanderson’s general young adult tone, I really cannot complain. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is a fun, touching, beautiful story that mostly stands on its own for those looking to dip their toes into the Cosmere.
