Katherine Addison’s The Goblin Emperor subverts the conventions of epic fantasy, establishing itself as a “fantasy of manners” by prioritizing courtly intrigue and bureaucratic challenges over quests and magic. This subgenre of fantasy first emerged in the 1980s with the work of authors who folded high fantasy with the novel of manners, made popular by writers like Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Persuasion), Henry James (The Portrait of a Lady, Washington Square) and Edith Wharton (The Age of Innocence, The House of Mirth). The novel of manners is concerned with the exploration of a highly restrictive society through its culture, customs, and manners. Addison hews closely to this notion in the way that she frames Maia’s immersion into the politics of his realm, which is constricted by procedure and protocol at every level. The narrative itself is introduced by front matter that includes fictional entries about the realm’s language, etiquette, and hierarchy, which establish the world’s complexity before the narrative even opens, foregrounding it as essential to understanding and bringing social custom into prominence in the narrative.

The fantasy of manners subgenre also shifts the focus from external conflicts, like the world-ending threats in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Rings or epic quests like Christopher Paolini’s Eragon, to the internal social and political maneuvering of a highly structured society. Unlike most fantasy subgenres, although magical elements and creatures may be a feature of the world, they are not usually the thematic focus of a fantasy of manners. Often, as with The Goblin Emperor, the novels take place in a world that melds the realism of a post-medieval society with the magical features and people of a fantasy world to create a culture that reflects the thematic concerns of real-life readers and the escapism of the fantasy genre. Although the fantasy of manners subgenre can sometimes intersect with steampunk, the focus is usually on a pre-technological society, or, as with the world’s magic, the world’s technology is the backdrop, not the focus, of the story.

Much like the real-world novels of manners by authors, which scrutinize the social codes of a particular class, Addison’s novel finds its central conflicts in negotiation, etiquette, and emotional intelligence. The novel’s drama unfolds not on battlefields, but in audiences with petitioners and tense meetings of the Corazhas, the emperor’s advisory council. Addison builds this intricate social world through meticulous detail, particularly the use of constructed language. The front matter includes a guide to the pronunciation and grammar of Ethuverazhin, detailing a formal system of names and honorifics that governs every interaction at court. Maia’s primary struggles involve learning to navigate this complex system of address and political procedure, where a misplaced title can be more damaging than a sword. By grounding the narrative in the mundane yet critical tasks of governance and social negotiation, the novel explores power not as a magical force but as a product of relationships, laws, and communication.

In its contribution to the fantasy of manners genre, The Goblin Emperor enters into conversation with novels like Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (2004), Olivia Atwater’s Half a Soul (2020), and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s The Beautiful Ones (2017).