i'm drafting this review with 200 something pages more to read but i just need to express how intelligently kuang wrote this entire thing. i can't quite grasp the fact that a human mind is capable of creating such masterpiece that talks about so many societal issues in such a unique way. by now i'm still clueless with how this is going to end but i am incredibly emotionally attached to each characters. each of them plays a role, represents something significant, as if each of them are puzzle pieces.

having just finished the book, i'm absolutely clueless on where to begin explaining everything i loved about this book. its political aspects resonated so well to the modern world; from racism, to colonialism, imperialism, classism, and most of all, the power of revolution and activism. it fascinates me how fiction tied with magical elements can expound on those themes so accurately. it reflected the many cruel realities of our history that still silently happens around the world to this day. and in fact, these are all happening loudly in front of us, most of the privileged just choose to ignore and sit in comfort.

this book will put you in discomfort countless times. it makes you take a step back and realize the kind of privilege you're enjoying as you read, even reading through its pages feels like an exercise of such privilege. because it's not just fiction, it reflects the unjust reality of our society, of how much power is in control, and there's nothing much we can do as we sit in our homes because we're just civilians after all, as much as the rest of the 'Babblers' were merely scholars until they're not, until the significance of revolution and activism finally dawned upon them. it's just that in the real world we're in, it doesn't happen overnight. activism, and strike to be specific, is an unsettling thought. it takes a lot of courage. it takes power.

"Strikers in this country never won broad public support, for the public merely wanted all the conveniencies of modern life without the guilt of knowing how those conviencies were procured."

and it reminded me so much of the Philippine history itself; the Edsa People Power, the colonialization of Spaniards over the Philippines, and how violence took part in all of it. it reminded me so much not just of the past, but of the present state of our country that writes the history as we speak.

"The oppressor would never sit down at the negotiation table when they still thought they had nothing to lose."

"Revolution is always unimaginable. It shatters the world you know. The future is unwritten brimming with potential. The colonizers have no idea what is coming, and that makes them panic. It terrifies them. (...) Good. It should."

On character study, beginning from Letty; I can't relate any more to when Victoire said: "It was like an exercise in hope... Loving her, I mean. Sometimes I'd think she'd come around. Sometimes I'd look her in the eyes and think that I was looking at a true friend. Then she'd say something, make some off-the-cuff comment, and the whole cycle would begin all over again." Because this is exactly how I felt about her character. One moment I was hopeful that she's finally an ally, the next second I feel a devastating regret to have trusted her character yet again. Because indeed, at the end of the day, the friendship were founded by memories and trust; nothing hurts more than to be exiled by the person you found a home in.

"How could you love someone who had hurt you so badly?"

It felt so frustrating to be empathetic knowing Letty had her fair share of sufferings, but it should and would never be at par with the rest; it should and would never make any of her cohort's suffering any less.

having been spoiled multiple times that Robin was an unreliable narrator, now that i have finally finished the book, i tend to somehow disagree because everything they shared were definitively genuine for all of them, even Letty. i know and believe that in those memories they shared at Magpie Lane, everyone found refuge within their shared presence and no one would have foreseen the end of everything. at some point in their lives, lying between those memories, everything was real and genuine, and each one of them felt that way, not just Robin.

Just as I have thought before, each of them are puzzle pieces of something bigger, each of them plays a significant role; Ramy's death pushed Robin to do what he had to do, and Victoire had always been his "anchor".

Who would've even guessed that Victoire would be the last of them?

"Mande mwen yon ti kou ankò ma di ou."

For me, it simply meant 'oblivion' or the state of not knowing, specifically of what's coming next.

"Victory is not assured."

It was an incredible way to end this book. As much as my curiosity badly wants to know what happens next, if Robin and the rest who died at Babel died in vain, it's a statement that simply tells us that what's  ahead of us will always be unknown, and there's no way of knowing but to live, day by day.

buddy read with shen and nics

last year, right at the heels of reading the poppy war trilogy, i found this book at a bookstore and had the intense urge to purchase myself a physical copy. i bought it, hoping to finally, officially, finish reading all of R.F. Kuang's books (who i now consider to be one of my favorite modern authors), only to stop reading it midway through.

in my efforts to practice more mindful consumption, i decided that this should and would be my first read of 2025 - and thank god, because R.F. Kuang is a genius and i don't regret it.

Babel is a historical fantasy based on The Tower of Babel, a book that delves deep into the inherent nature of language and translation, all through the power of silverworking. i have a number of things i love about this book, so allow me some time to write them all down:

1. its name: Babel: An Arcane History. an arcane history, truly, because you can feel just how much Kuang's roots in academia influenced how the story was written. it reads like a much more interesting, much more enchanting history book. the footnotes are the best part of the book for me.

2. it is written in true Kuang fashion: with deep, historical ties to past events, written with such fascinating and engrossing prose that you feel pulled right into its world and its incredible orbit.

3. its discussion of languages, words, and etymology. on every page, there would be a new word in a new language that i would learn the meaning of. but most especially, i would learn the relevance of words in Chinese, their radicals, the gap between them and their English counterparts: 無形, wúxíng, formless, shapeless, incorporeal. 爆, bào, burst. 奴隸制, núlì zhì, slavery; 好, hǎo, good - both using 女, nǚ, woman. why? what connects them? Kuang brings out questions on Chinese pictography and etymology, which i have never asked myself in all my years of learning. i love it.

4. Kuang's approach to the book's themes of colonialism, discrimination, and most of all: intersectionality. Robin, Ramy, Letty, and Victoire, the four main characters of this book, are a cohort of friends who were forced together because they had no one else. imagine: friends who understood you yet did not understand you at the same time. Robin, Asian man; Ramy, Indian man; Letty, White woman; and Victoire, Black woman, the only one who got the short end of the stick both times - in both race and gender. throughout the book, the four have incredible fights and disagreements because, in the end, there will always be things Letty and Victoire experience as Oxford women that Robin and Ramy will not. likewise, there will always be things Robin, Ramy, and Victoire will experience as foreigners in Britain that Letty will not. yet, they undoubtedly both love and hate one another because of all the things they've endured together.

5. Robin, the character, and his relationships. out of all of Kuang's characters in all the books she's ever written, i think Robin is my favorite (if we're talking about main characters, that is. i still love Kitay the most). Robin is so undeniably complex. so undeniably enthralling. i know others call him flat, dry, cowardly, without a spine. but Babel gave me a good glimpse at what kind of person he is, and somehow i could connect with him and his journey to self-acceptance, learning, and becoming himself.

it adds another layer when you consider just how much Robin had to hide himself. his Chinese identity. his true name. and though some may argue against it, his undeniable, implied queerness.

The light made Ramy's eyes glow, made his skin shine like burnished bronze. Robin had the absurd impulse to place his hand against Ramy's cheek: indeed, he'd half lifted up his arm before his mind caught up with his body.

/

She wants you. Very badly. So why-"

"Don't you know why?"

Their eyes met. Robin felt a prickle at the back of his neck. The space between them felt very charged, like the moment between lightning and thunder, and Robin had no idea what was going on or what would happen next, only that it all felt very strange and terrifying, like teetering over the edge of a windy, roaring cliff.

/

Five.

Ramy, smiling. Ramy, reaching.

Robin placed his hand on the nearest pyramid, closed his eyes, and breathed, "Fānyì. Translate.

/

It's so odd. It's like I've known you forever."

"Me too."

"And that makes no sense," said Robin, drunk already, though there was no alcohol in the cordial. "Because I've known you for less than a day, and yet..."

"I think, it's because when I speak, you listen.

6. its discussion on the necessity of violence. how much violence is too much violence? how much rebellion is too much rebellion? how do we know when to stop? i feel Kuang puts into words the controversy of these kinds of revolts perfectly: they don't want to hurt the innocent. they don't want to hurt the people they're trying to help. yet, how far do we go to push the hand of the rich and wealthy? and so we read through the words of Professor Chakravarti:

One of the most commonly misunderstood Sanskrit concepts is ahimsa. Nonviolence. Many think ahimsa means absolute pacifism, and that the Indian people are therefore a sheepish, submissive people who will bend the knee to anything. But in the Bhagavad Gita, exceptions are made for a dharma yuddha. A righteous war. A war in which violence is applied as the last resort, a war fought not for selfish gain or personal motives but from a commitment to a greater cause. This is how I have justified this strike, Mr. Swift. But what you're doing here is not self-defence; it has trespassed into malice. Your violence is personal, it is vindictive, and this I cannot support.

as it is, Babel was the only thing important to Parliament. if they had come to that conclusion sooner, there would have been fewer lives lost. and that's the moral lesson we can take away.