Given her debut novel "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell," Susanna Clarke has attracted a great deal of anticipation for her new book "Piranesi." Her first book was a joy to read that drew many deserved accolades, a portrait of two magicians contesting in a world in which they reintroduced magic. The publicity copy for "Piranesi" suggested a book possibly much in the same vein:
Piranesi's house is no ordinary building: its rooms are infinite, its corridors endless, its walls are lined with thousands upon thousands of statues, each one different from all the others. Within the labyrinth of halls an ocean is imprisoned; waves thunder up staircases, rooms are flooded in an instant. But Piranesi is not afraid; he understands the tides as he understands the pattern of the labyrinth itself. He lives to explore the house.
There is one other person in the house-a man called The Other, who visits Piranesi twice a week and asks for help with research into A Great and Secret Knowledge. But as Piranesi explores, evidence emerges of another person, and a terrible truth begins to unravel, revealing a world beyond the one Piranesi has always known.
After reading "Piranesi," my verdict is that it may prove a challenging book to anyone who is not already a fan of Clarke, and potentially a demanding novel for her fans as well. If one is willing to persist through its beginning, it unfolds in an intriguing manner, but it can prove taxing up until that point.
My opinion seems contrary to many of the novel's cover blurbs:
“Piranesi is a gorgeous, spellbinding mystery that gently unravels page by page. Precisely the sort of book that I love wordlessly handing to someone so they can have the pleasure of uncovering its secrets for themselves. This book is a treasure, washed up upon a forgotten shore, waiting to be discovered.” ―Erin Morgenstern, NYT bestselling author of THE STARLESS SEA and THE NIGHT CIRCUS
“What a world Susanna Clarke conjures into being, what a tick-tock-tick-tock of reveals, what a pure protagonist, what a morally-squalid supporting cast, what beauty, tension and restraint, and what a pitch-perfect ending. Piranesi is an exquisite puzzle-box far, far bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.” ―David Mitchell, New York Times bestselling author of CLOUD ATLAS
“Readers who accompany [Piranesi] as he learns to understand himself will see magic returning to our world. Weird and haunting and excellent.” ―Kirkus Reviews, Starred Review
“Clarke wraps a twisty mystery inside a metaphysical fantasy in her extraordinary new novel . . . Sure to be recognized as one of the year's most inventive.” ―Publishers Weekly, Starred Review
“As questions multiply and suspense mounts in this spellbinding, occult puzzle of a fable, one begins to wonder if perhaps the reverence, kindness, and gratitude practiced by Clarke's enchanting and resilient hero aren't all the wisdom one truly needs.” ―Booklist, Starred Review
These are excellent reviews, but I wonder if "Piranesi" would have gotten this stellar reception if it wasn't for memories of "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell."
Let me talk about the book itself. "Piranesi" reminds me most of James Stoddard's "The High House" and the rest of his Evenmere trilogy, as well as Jorge Luis Borges' "The Library of Babel." (There are echoes of many other works of Borges in “Piranesi,” most obviously “The House of Asterion” and “Labyrinths.”) Both "The High House" and "The Library of Babel" are about characters trapped in buildings with infinite interiors — the latter carries with it a hint of madness and despair that is also seen in "Piranesi." All three feel reminiscent to me of authors such as Lord Dunsany — what fantasy used to be like before Tolkien and Howard.
The name of the novel refers most likely to Giovanni Battista Piranesi, an Italian artist famous for his striking engravings of Rome and of "Imaginary Prisons." One cannot help but inspect his art and picture its dramatic spaces while reading "Piranesi" — an imposing atmosphere Clarke supports with her words. (Giovanni Battista Piranesi’s son, Francesco Piranesi, similarly created beautiful engravings depicting monuments and ancient temples.)
At first "Piranesi" is quite promising — it opens with fascinating, odd characters and haunting, engrossing halls. However, as the novel unfolds, the uncanny nature of the characters and setting take on a disturbing edge, as if the world and its people have lost their minds. The protagonist seems to have no past and no memory. Conversations, when they do occur, can feel disconcerting and laced with dread. Objects appear mysteriously. It can all feel like a fever dream.
For the first third of the book, "Piranesi" can feel very lonely. Not much happens for long stretches of time. The protagonist observes and muses, but does very little, and for the most part, has no one to interact with. It reminded me of a cross between Tom Hanks' "Castaway" and much of David Lynch's oeuvre. If that's your jams — and for many people, that is — then you'll enjoy this part of the novel. Others might find it difficult not dropping this book.
Eventually the story takes a turn. Drama and answers enter the picture. The ideas that Clarke presents are fascinating ones, the character decisions and dialogue intriguing and rewarding. But it takes about a third of the book — 90 pages — to reach this point. Moreover, although the protagonist’s reactions to these discoveries are understandable, I also found them somewhat annoying. Still, the book does build to a series of satisfying revelations. It ends well enough.
All in all, “Piranesi” is a very different book from "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell." I found it intriguing and difficult, in places vexing and dull. If not for Clarke’s reputation, I find it difficult to believe “Piranesi” would have survived in this form to publication. As is, I do think dedicated readers will find it worthwhile to champion. I see it spawning arguments over its merits, and perhaps that’s what art should try and do sometimes.
