Susanna Clarke

Piranesi

From the New York Times bestselling author of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, an intoxicating, hypnotic new novel set in a dreamlike alternative reality. 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. For readers of Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane and fans of Madeline Miller's Circe, Piranesi introduces an astonishing new world, an infinite labyrinth, full of startling images and surreal beauty, haunted by the tides and the clouds.

Martina Mancarella

“Don’t disappear” I tell her sternly. “Do 

 disappear.” She makes a rueful, amused face. “I won’t” she says. “We can’t keep rescuing each other” I say. “It’s ridiculous.” She smiles. It is a smile with a little sadness in it.

It’s not always a pleasant world, the other world. There’s a lot of sadness

They felt the turning of the stars inside their own minds.

Evan

In my mind are all the tides, their seasons, their ebbs and their flows. In my mind are all the halls, the endless procession of them, the intricate pathways.

Basil

I did not believe it was Myself that cried out. It was, I thought, Matthew Rose Sorensen who reposed in a state of unconsciousness somewhere inside Myself.

He had suffered. He had been alone with his enemy. It had been more than he could bear. Perhaps the Other had taunted him… Then the House in its Mercy had caused him to fall asleep— which was by far the best thing for him — and it had placed him inside me…

I worried in case he woke up completely and his anguish began all over again. 

I placed my hand on my chest. “Hush now!” I said, “Do not be afraid. You are safe. Go back to sleep. I will take care of us both.”

Naman

andrea valentina 

It is my belief that the World wishes an inhabitant for Itself to be a witness to its Beauty and the recipient of its Mercies

Perhaps even people you like and admire immensely can make you see the World in ways you would rather not.

The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.

‘Don’t disappear,’ I tell her sternly. ‘Do 

Do not be afraid. You are safe. Go back to sleep. I will take care of us both.

Yet, despite this emotional blankness, from time to time a sob or cry would escape my lips – a little sound of desolation.

“I don’t like you very much,” / “I can live with that,”

My own actions were, I was sure, guided solely by Reason. But I was only deceiving Myself.

In the meantime it is important to recognise that reading the Journal is in itself a triggering activity, giving rise to many painful emotions and nightmarish thoughts.

However my hair is a different matter. Over the years, as it has grown longer, I have interlaced it with pretty things that I have found or made: seashells, coral beads, pearls, tiny pebbles and interesting fishbones. / All of them rattle when I walk or run. / When 16 returns to his own Halls, I shall put them back – I feel oddly naked without them.

When night fell, I listened to the Songs that the Moon and Stars were singing and I sang with them. / The World feels Complete and Whole, and I, its Child, fit into it seamlessly. 

I felt and smelt the Air those wings brought with them, the sharp, salty, wild tang of Faraway Tides and Winds that had roamed vast distances, through Halls I would never see.

“I dreamt of him once; he was standing in a snowy forest and speaking to a female child.”

Steffi Colberg

‚A vision of cosmic grandeur, I suppose. A symbol of the mingled glory and horror of existence. No One gets out alive.'

After a minute or two of walking uselessly to and fro, I spoke to Myself sternly, telling Myself that it was no good bewailing the Past; what was needed now was to plan for the Future. 

In his notebooks, day after day, he makes a clear and careful record of its wonders: the labyrinth of halls, the thousands upon thousands of statues, the tides that thunder up staircases, the clouds that move in slow procession through the upper halls. On Tuesdays and Fridays Piranesi sees his friend, the Other. At other times he brings tributes of food to the Dead. But mostly, he is alone. Messages begin to appear, scratched out in chalk on the pavements. There is someone new in the House. But who are they and what do they want? Are they a friend or do they bring destruction and madness as the Other claims? Lost texts must be found; secrets must be uncovered. The world that Piranesi thought he knew is becoming strange and dangerous.

Tija

The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite. 

So clever!! I usually hate books where I spend my time wondering what the hell is going on, and just feeling completely lost. But this book! THIS BOOK!! I don’t know what she put in it, but I was lost, but totally and completely hooked. I guessed the twist towards the end, but that didn’t take away from the brilliance of this book! I listened on audiobook, highly recommend! 

Aims

So clever!! I usually hate books where I spend my time wondering what the hell is going on, and just feeling completely lost. But this book! THIS BOOK!! I don’t know what she put in it, but I was lost, but totally and completely hooked. I guessed the twist towards the end, but that didn’t take away from the brilliance of this book! I listened on audiobook, highly recommend! 



This book was a strong 4 star, soft 5 star for me. But I have been thinking about it non-stop since finishing it. Its literally made me want to sit down and write an essay about the possible meanings for everything in the book like I was in my high school AP lit class again (shout out Mrs. Harbour - you do not know how much of a profound impact your class had on me as a human being). 

I will say that I fully don't know what Clarke was trying to articulate in this book. I do think it was very clever. Without going into a full blown essay in this review I think my top takes and likes from this book were: 

1. The theme of enjoying something for the sake of enjoyment/ loving how it simply is. Why is this house so big and why are these statues that showcase so many different parts of the human experience? You will never know- and that’s fine. Piranesi himself says that it’s fine- just enjoy it how it is - you don’t need to have some deeper meaning to enjoy it.  He also “allegedly” had said to stop the pursuit of knowledge multiple times (I doubt or at least if he did he did so in another manner- like I don’t wanna be here and do your bidding before he forgot). He is a child of the house and is content in enjoying the beauty (and the roses if you will)- even enjoying the walk when he’s finally free. 

2.  I really liked the statues being interpreted as like lingering of the the past and knowledge. You will never ever know it first hand since it’s in the past but it leaves its mark. You can try to learn from it (and can) but part of it will always forgotten or truly not understood since it’s not a first hand account/ time passing makes it hard to remember. Humans also are so obsessed with progress that things in the past do get cast aside for “advancements” when you can appreciate how it was done in the past without saying it was bad or primitive. I think Ketterley was also the personification of that and a foil. 

3. It was interesting at the end, Piranesi thought of himself as a third person- because imo he is still the person he was in the house just now a wider perspective since he no longer lives in “a cave” (imo I couldn’t stop thinking about the cave analogy - his shadows are the statues). He seems to believe identity is tied to where you are, whereas I believe it grows and transcends. He is a different person when he leaves the house, and he also is not the same person he was before he forgot who he was. But to believe he is a third person… I’m not sure I fully agree. Identity is tied to place, but I don’t think you lose that fully when you leave or are displaced. Like the forgotten knowledge it still lives with him. But then again he has a new perspective that makes it hard to have the views he had before. But to say his former self is dead I think is wrong since he still understands that perspective. (HOWEVER, take this with a grain of salt because I know that many people would argue otherwise/ I don't have a life experience that makes me feel this way - I just feel that you can't erase what you experienced in said place if you are no longer there - it is apart of you unless you literally forget everything as Piranesi did in his first life.) 

4. The introduction of Raphael was really interesting. I looked up that Raphael was the angel of the travelers and mercy. Seeing it in that view was really interesting- also that she also kept wanting to go back- and perhaps also forget for a time the struggles of life. The view he paints of her being like the two different statues was one of my favorite parts of the book, showcasing how knowledge can change over time and how it impacts a person.

5. I think there also had to be some symbolic meaning for the 12 dead (12 apostles?) but we go up to 16 people so I forget if the starting number was 12/13? but I mean Ketterley is he is in that count betrayed him from the very beginning. 

6.  It’s also jarring how even in the before - Piranesi’s character was so… innocent? Maybe is the best word- but he trusts everyone no matter which identity he is in. When Ketterley asks if he came alone I think any sane person would have immediately ran- but he doesn’t? Maybe there’s some thing about him being a man therefore maybe not feeling as in danger- but I think again and sane person would have an alarm bells blaring. It was interesting to me that Piranesi always defaults to trust. Maybe humans always do that- and in their purest form they do (him living in the house) but they pay a price to live in that state?

7. I love at the end how he appreciates life as it is around him - and sees connections in people to the statues. We are patterns of the past. He also sees these lanterns as the day is approaching evening lighting up the world ever so brightly in the snow. It made me realize he sees the world in a different form (snow now solid and perhaps more real) than the water filled house. Yet he appreciates it even if he is less naive and sees there are bad things that can happen in the world. 

I might be going too far into English teacher mode but this book has really made me think and I really appreciate that.

Ashley Denktas

This book was a strong 4 star, soft 5 star for me. But I have been thinking about it non-stop since finishing it. Its literally made me want to sit down and write an essay about the possible meanings for everything in the book like I was in my high school AP lit class again (shout out Mrs. Harbour - you do not know how much of a profound impact your class had on me as a human being). 

I will say that I fully don't know what Clarke was trying to articulate in this book. I do think it was very clever. Without going into a full blown essay in this review I think my top takes and likes from this book were: 

1. The theme of enjoying something for the sake of enjoyment/ loving how it simply is. Why is this house so big and why are these statues that showcase so many different parts of the human experience? You will never know- and that’s fine. Piranesi himself says that it’s fine- just enjoy it how it is - you don’t need to have some deeper meaning to enjoy it.  He also “allegedly” had said to stop the pursuit of knowledge multiple times (I doubt or at least if he did he did so in another manner- like I don’t wanna be here and do your bidding before he forgot). He is a child of the house and is content in enjoying the beauty (and the roses if you will)- even enjoying the walk when he’s finally free. 

2.  I really liked the statues being interpreted as like lingering of the the past and knowledge. You will never ever know it first hand since it’s in the past but it leaves its mark. You can try to learn from it (and can) but part of it will always forgotten or truly not understood since it’s not a first hand account/ time passing makes it hard to remember. Humans also are so obsessed with progress that things in the past do get cast aside for “advancements” when you can appreciate how it was done in the past without saying it was bad or primitive. I think Ketterley was also the personification of that and a foil. 

3. It was interesting at the end, Piranesi thought of himself as a third person- because imo he is still the person he was in the house just now a wider perspective since he no longer lives in “a cave” (imo I couldn’t stop thinking about the cave analogy - his shadows are the statues). He seems to believe identity is tied to where you are, whereas I believe it grows and transcends. He is a different person when he leaves the house, and he also is not the same person he was before he forgot who he was. But to believe he is a third person… I’m not sure I fully agree. Identity is tied to place, but I don’t think you lose that fully when you leave or are displaced. Like the forgotten knowledge it still lives with him. But then again he has a new perspective that makes it hard to have the views he had before. But to say his former self is dead I think is wrong since he still understands that perspective. (HOWEVER, take this with a grain of salt because I know that many people would argue otherwise/ I don't have a life experience that makes me feel this way - I just feel that you can't erase what you experienced in said place if you are no longer there - it is apart of you unless you literally forget everything as Piranesi did in his first life.) 

4. The introduction of Raphael was really interesting. I looked up that Raphael was the angel of the travelers and mercy. Seeing it in that view was really interesting- also that she also kept wanting to go back- and perhaps also forget for a time the struggles of life. The view he paints of her being like the two different statues was one of my favorite parts of the book, showcasing how knowledge can change over time and how it impacts a person.

5. I think there also had to be some symbolic meaning for the 12 dead (12 apostles?) but we go up to 16 people so I forget if the starting number was 12/13? but I mean Ketterley is he is in that count betrayed him from the very beginning. 

6.  It’s also jarring how even in the before - Piranesi’s character was so… innocent? Maybe is the best word- but he trusts everyone no matter which identity he is in. When Ketterley asks if he came alone I think any sane person would have immediately ran- but he doesn’t? Maybe there’s some thing about him being a man therefore maybe not feeling as in danger- but I think again and sane person would have an alarm bells blaring. It was interesting to me that Piranesi always defaults to trust. Maybe humans always do that- and in their purest form they do (him living in the house) but they pay a price to live in that state?

7. I love at the end how he appreciates life as it is around him - and sees connections in people to the statues. We are patterns of the past. He also sees these lanterns as the day is approaching evening lighting up the world ever so brightly in the snow. It made me realize he sees the world in a different form (snow now solid and perhaps more real) than the water filled house. Yet he appreciates it even if he is less naive and sees there are bad things that can happen in the world. 

I might be going too far into English teacher mode but this book has really made me think and I really appreciate that.

I wish I could take a uni lit course to hear a professor talk about this book. This was SO interesting.

Chloé Dupèré

This book was a fun mystery to unravel in a fantasy world but that ultimately left me with more questions than answers. Piranesi is a beautiful, pure soul with childlike innocence and wonder, and he made for a great narrator (through his journals). This was a short read that piqued and held my interest, mainly because it's not like anything I usually read, yet it has similarities (in my mind) to the dark academia of The Secret History and is clearly influenced by the ancient world and mythology, which I obviously love to read about. At times I laughed reading this book, even when Piranesi didn't mean to be funny; clearly Susanna Clarke has a sense of humor. Other times I felt like crying at the sheer tragedy that unfurled. I wish the setting wasn't so confusing or difficult to wrap my mind around. And again I wish some other mysterious aspects would have been revealed or answered; not enough was for my tastes. As much as I liked it, I can see how others wouldn't. I think it's good to get out of my bookish comfort zone from time to time. 

Amanda

i attempted to read this book on 4 different occasions but was so confused in the first few pages about trying to understand the layout of the House. but finally on this attempt, i tried to ignore that attempt at logic and just embraced the confusion and i think thats exactly how you’re supposed to experience this book. i loved the parallels between the reader being confused about the World in which piranesi lives in, and then the confusion that piranesi feels when learning about the world that Matthew (?) came from. it was beautiful and dark but also so positive at the end, i loved the ending wasnt rushed and piranesi had time to think about if he even wanted to leave

 “The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.”

this was my sleepy sunday read for a few months, and it never failed to put me in a dream-like state. the writing felt just as beautiful and expansive as how i imagine the halls of the house would be. if i had to describe this book as a feeling, it would feel like yelling “hellooooooooooooo” into a large vacant cave, expecting to only hear an echo, but instead hearing someone respond in kind. this was warm, unexpected, delightful, and new. with interesting worlds and the interworking’s of one man’s mind, Piranesi is a lovely read i’ll never forget.

avie

 “The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.”

this was my sleepy sunday read for a few months, and it never failed to put me in a dream-like state. the writing felt just as beautiful and expansive as how i imagine the halls of the house would be. if i had to describe this book as a feeling, it would feel like yelling “hellooooooooooooo” into a large vacant cave, expecting to only hear an echo, but instead hearing someone respond in kind. this was warm, unexpected, delightful, and new. with interesting worlds and the interworking’s of one man’s mind, Piranesi is a lovely read i’ll never forget.

Like Borges at its best but K-Pax at its worst. 

Luke Pearce

Short Reason: Confusing as fuck and boring as hell.

So, the main character was pretty dumb, and the story made no sense. These days, it feels like people can write any random nonsense and call it "deep" or "metaphorical." Honestly, I've read better Shawn Mendes fanfics on Wattpad that were written by some 14-year-old who barely speaks English.

I don't hate the book, but I don't like or love it. It's just so bleh and boring -- forgettable. 75% of the book was utter nonsense of just filler "chapters" of random facts about things I don't give a shit about. I was still trying to figure out if the protagonist had literal amnesia or if they were just so bored in solitude that they were documenting everything. Here's a literal list of things Piranesi mentions...

ENTRY FOR THE SEVENTEENTH DAY OF THE SIXTH MONTH IN THE YEAR THE

ALBATROSS CAME TO THE SOUTH-WESTERN HALLS

I have made a list of all the things that the Other has given me, so that I will

remember to be grateful and thank the House for sending me such an

In the Year I named the Constellations, the Other gave me:

• 2 fishing nets made of a synthetic polymer

• 4 large sheets of heavy-gauge plastic

• a torch. I have never used this and cannot now remember where I put

Boo!!!! 🥥🥥🥥 Boring !! I'm throwing coconuts cause tomatoes won't be doing much damage.

Tali ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

DNF at 25%
Short Reason: Confusing as fuck and boring as hell.


So, the main character was pretty dumb, and the story made no sense. These days, it feels like people can write any random nonsense and call it "deep" or "metaphorical." Honestly, I've read better Shawn Mendes fanfics on Wattpad that were written by some 14-year-old who barely speaks English.

I don't hate the book, but I don't like or love it. It's just so bleh and boring -- forgettable. 75% of the book was utter nonsense of just filler "chapters" of random facts about things I don't give a shit about. I was still trying to figure out if the protagonist had literal amnesia or if they were just so bored in solitude that they were documenting everything. Here's a literal list of things Piranesi mentions...

A list of things the Other has given me
ENTRY FOR THE SEVENTEENTH DAY OF THE SIXTH MONTH IN THE YEAR THE
ALBATROSS CAME TO THE SOUTH-WESTERN HALLS
I have made a list of all the things that the Other has given me, so that I will
remember to be grateful and thank the House for sending me such an
excellent friend!
In the Year I named the Constellations, the Other gave me:
• a sleeping bag
• a pillow
• 2 blankets
• 2 fishing nets made of a synthetic polymer
• 4 large sheets of heavy-gauge plastic
• a torch. I have never used this and cannot now remember where I put
it.
• 6 boxes of matches
• 2 bottles of multivitamins

Boo!!!! 🥥🥥🥥 Boring !! I'm throwing coconuts cause tomatoes won't be doing much damage.

"Piranesi" is a short, charming read about a beautiful nightmare.

I think Susanna Clarke has a real talent for dialogue and displaying a character's inner-workings through their word choice and demeanor. Arguably this is detrimental regarding one character in the book and where they end up, but on the whole I really enjoyed that sense of style, she wears it well.

The Halls are filled with lots of beauty yet are undeniably desolate and unfriendly. There's no sand (and even water), yet I think of the House to basically be an ivory desert. The waters are alive and pulsating, culminating in a crescendo that attacks several rooms and almost kills our lead in the very beginning. Even still, he only speaks to the House's generosity and kindness. Our prisoner writes captive poetry.

I was a bit dissatisfied with how things ended. I think it was drawn out and arguably too happy (though this could 

 by my brain addled by Cormac McCarthy books). Considering the rest of the story, I was surprised that Clarke went with something so tender. I didn't outright hate it, but I wouldn't have minded if it had gone down differently, either. This was only the end, too; I was very happy up until the climax subsided.

Overall, I really liked "Piranesi" and definitely recommend this book.

"Piranesi" is a short, charming read about a beautiful nightmare.

  

I think Susanna Clarke has a real talent for dialogue and displaying a character's inner-workings through their word choice and demeanor. Arguably this is detrimental regarding one character in the book and where they end up, but on the whole I really enjoyed that sense of style, she wears it well.

  

The Halls are filled with lots of beauty yet are undeniably desolate and unfriendly. There's no sand (and even water), yet I think of the House to basically be an ivory desert. The waters are alive and pulsating, culminating in a crescendo that attacks several rooms and almost kills our lead in the very beginning. Even still, he only speaks to the House's generosity and kindness. Our prisoner writes captive poetry.

  

I was a bit dissatisfied with how things ended. I think it was drawn out and arguably too happy (though this could definitely by my brain addled by Cormac McCarthy books). Considering the rest of the story, I was surprised that Clarke went with something so tender. I didn't outright hate it, but I wouldn't have minded if it had gone down differently, either. This was only the end, too; I was very happy up until the climax subsided.

  

Overall, I really liked "Piranesi" and definitely recommend this book.

Wow this is the worst book I've ever read. It's completely filler and nothing is lost by starting at the 40% mark of the book. I finished it in about an hour since a) the first 40% is complete repetition of the first 2-3 pages, b) after that point you only need to read the dialog and the italics, bc there is nothing new. 

It seems like a much more boring, long take on Patrick Rothfuss's The Slow Regard of Silent Things, but the author tries to put a simple plot on it and It Is Awful. Highly recommend all thr rave reviews read Patrick Rothfuss's version to see how it should be done. 

I literally don't see any reason for this book to exist, maybe it felt as monotonous and unreal as the pandemic it came out in?

My favorite part is reading other 1-star reviews of this book.

Wow this is the worst book I've ever read. It's completely filler and nothing is lost by starting at the 40% mark of the book. I finished it in about an hour since a) the first 40% is complete repetition of the first 2-3 pages, b) after that point you only need to read the dialog and the italics, bc there is nothing new. 

It seems like a much more boring, long take on Patrick Rothfuss's The Slow Regard of Silent Things, but the author tries to put a simple plot on it and It Is Awful. Highly recommend all thr rave reviews read Patrick Rothfuss's version to see how it should be done. 

I literally don't see any reason for this book to exist, maybe it felt as monotonous and unreal as the pandemic it came out in?

My favorite part is reading other 1-star reviews of this book.

I find myself in some way unspeakably sad. Mellow, deep inside, haunted by something. Perhaps it is the sadness of the life that Matthew Rose Sorenson lived, perhaps it is, as Clarke writes, the ebb and flow of the tides in my mind, the great halls that are swept with water.

It is very rare for me to have this kind of relationship with a book. I began reading this book because I was told it somehow resembled the TV show, Severance, in its approach to a labyrinthine world and a slowly evolving mystery. And on that end, it does deliver. I expected that this book would thrill and entice me, interest me in unfolding its secrets - and therefore it was my reasoning that I would read the mystery, come to its conclusion, figure out for myself how I would rate it (somewhere from 3.5 to 4, I suspected), and be done.

Now I find that i want to get the technical review out of the way as quickly as possible so I can contend with the themes of this story. So let us do that, then.

The plot is meticulously well constructed. It unfolds quickly and efficiently, with no beats missed. Everything happens accoding to its designated order. The disillusionment of our protagonist too occurs with perfect balance. When writing this kind of story that places a protagonist in a world of mininal detail, an author embarks on a difficult quest to ensure that the reader is disoriented enough to be confused, but not too disoriented so as to lose interest. Tamsyn Muir comes to mind here - and Clarke runs rings around her for weeks on end.

Clarke is a surgeon with her writing. Carefully she labels and names things, and writes details in ways that evoke particular feelings. Her approach to everything is quite minimal, and it does a terrifying job of imparting the liminality of the House. To describe everything in finest detail would have been a simple task, but Clarke decides instead that by revolving her descriptions around key colors and details, specific naming conventions and their capitalisation, and various other elements, she imbues an emptiness detectable only holistically, and a holiness that permeates the imagined world of the House.

She is equivalently exacting with her construction of voice. I would have dearly loved to study this book for that purpose. Never before, and I say this without exaggeration, have I read a piece from an author so thoroughly assured of her mastery over her narrative voice. She exhibits three different voices for us, but they are all three that belong to the same man - Matthew Rose Sorenson, Piranesi, the labyrinthine man - and they are all distinctly different yet clearly and certainly springing forth from the same source. 

Her capitalisations and quirks of phrase and shortened sentencing when providing us with Piranesi's voice give us the sense of a creature - then a man - then a homed survivor, imbued with reverence, attention to the world, yet somehow clearly evoking to the reader the voice of someone who cannot possibly be complete.

The brief window of dialogue into Matthew's voice through his documentation of the events of December 12 was masterful. Even though he doesn't carry the hallowed nature of Piranesi's voice, the subtle quirks of his writing are still embedded, his general nature differs and yet you can see how one man can be the other.

And of course, the voice of the man who emerges is unique all its own. Something of him is lost, felt in the way he now refers to the statues with non-specificity, clearly no longer a child of the house.

We brush away all this discussion to cut through to the core - the themes at play, the central focus with which Clarke busied herself. It is clear to me now that Clarke would not write a story such as this to simply effectively construct a kind of labyrinthine mystery, and execute it perfectly. This story is not even particularly concerned with the details that speckle its surface - what may seem to the reader as core details, such as characters and places and events that lead to Matthew's predicament, are instead simply backgrounding props, intended to furnish the story in the way that a perfectionist interior designer would take care of all the elements of a room even if the only piece that really matters is on the mantle.

The mantel-piece Clarke cherishes is the story of a man who for a brief period lives a life profoundly unlike our own. Its about the difference between our world, of all its elements, and the world of the house, standing as a testament to the communion between man and the world surrounding him. Many elements of the story are contested in morality, and oft does Clarke wilfully paint for us our villains, but never is the existence of the Knowledge and the Power contested, or truly disproven, or painted harshly or charitably. Is it, indeed, there? In some ways it was, for Piranesi, the Child of the House, who decided what came and went according to the way the birds flitted from statue to statue.

Once he leaves its clear that he has become the kind of person that belongs not to our world. Raphael, also, embodies that. Talking to the birds, slightly estranged of our world, muddling through, connected to the peace and quiet of the house. In some ways the very mythical way of the world of the House allows us a lens with which to look at the estranged of society, men and women who by quirks of personality or mental structure are forever doomed to interact with this world and know nothing of the House.

Underneath all that is a subtext of reverence for a life lived in emptiness of man and connection to the world. It is echoed in the book's parting lines, as the overlap between Matthew and Piranesi coalesces a new, profound understanding of our world as his House. Maybe we could all do to live with a little more reverence - though I am confident that Clarke had no such desire to simply impart a moral. I feel, instead, that she was simply enamored with the themes - with those who do not truly belong to our world, with the nature of the relation between man and world, with the labyrinth and how it would warp the mind, and with the labyrinthine man and his transition into the labyrinth, and back out again. 

We briefly revel in Clarke's thoughts, flitting, before we are shown the door.

Omar 

This book is beyond exceptional.

I find myself in some way unspeakably sad. Mellow, deep inside, haunted by something. Perhaps it is the sadness of the life that Matthew Rose Sorenson lived, perhaps it is, as Clarke writes, the ebb and flow of the tides in my mind, the great halls that are swept with water.

It is very rare for me to have this kind of relationship with a book. I began reading this book because I was told it somehow resembled the TV show, Severance, in its approach to a labyrinthine world and a slowly evolving mystery. And on that end, it does deliver. I expected that this book would thrill and entice me, interest me in unfolding its secrets - and therefore it was my reasoning that I would read the mystery, come to its conclusion, figure out for myself how I would rate it (somewhere from 3.5 to 4, I suspected), and be done.

Now I find that i want to get the technical review out of the way as quickly as possible so I can contend with the themes of this story. So let us do that, then.

The plot is meticulously well constructed. It unfolds quickly and efficiently, with no beats missed. Everything happens accoding to its designated order. The disillusionment of our protagonist too occurs with perfect balance. When writing this kind of story that places a protagonist in a world of mininal detail, an author embarks on a difficult quest to ensure that the reader is disoriented enough to be confused, but not too disoriented so as to lose interest. Tamsyn Muir comes to mind here - and Clarke runs rings around her for weeks on end.

Clarke is a surgeon with her writing. Carefully she labels and names things, and writes details in ways that evoke particular feelings. Her approach to everything is quite minimal, and it does a terrifying job of imparting the liminality of the House. To describe everything in finest detail would have been a simple task, but Clarke decides instead that by revolving her descriptions around key colors and details, specific naming conventions and their capitalisation, and various other elements, she imbues an emptiness detectable only holistically, and a holiness that permeates the imagined world of the House.

She is equivalently exacting with her construction of voice. I would have dearly loved to study this book for that purpose. Never before, and I say this without exaggeration, have I read a piece from an author so thoroughly assured of her mastery over her narrative voice. She exhibits three different voices for us, but they are all three that belong to the same man - Matthew Rose Sorenson, Piranesi, the labyrinthine man - and they are all distinctly different yet clearly and certainly springing forth from the same source. 

Her capitalisations and quirks of phrase and shortened sentencing when providing us with Piranesi's voice give us the sense of a creature - then a man - then a homed survivor, imbued with reverence, attention to the world, yet somehow clearly evoking to the reader the voice of someone who cannot possibly be complete.

The brief window of dialogue into Matthew's voice through his documentation of the events of December 12 was masterful. Even though he doesn't carry the hallowed nature of Piranesi's voice, the subtle quirks of his writing are still embedded, his general nature differs and yet you can see how one man can be the other.

And of course, the voice of the man who emerges is unique all its own. Something of him is lost, felt in the way he now refers to the statues with non-specificity, clearly no longer a child of the house.

We brush away all this discussion to cut through to the core - the themes at play, the central focus with which Clarke busied herself. It is clear to me now that Clarke would not write a story such as this to simply effectively construct a kind of labyrinthine mystery, and execute it perfectly. This story is not even particularly concerned with the details that speckle its surface - what may seem to the reader as core details, such as characters and places and events that lead to Matthew's predicament, are instead simply backgrounding props, intended to furnish the story in the way that a perfectionist interior designer would take care of all the elements of a room even if the only piece that really matters is on the mantle.

The mantel-piece Clarke cherishes is the story of a man who for a brief period lives a life profoundly unlike our own. Its about the difference between our world, of all its elements, and the world of the house, standing as a testament to the communion between man and the world surrounding him. Many elements of the story are contested in morality, and oft does Clarke wilfully paint for us our villains, but never is the existence of the Knowledge and the Power contested, or truly disproven, or painted harshly or charitably. Is it, indeed, there? In some ways it was, for Piranesi, the Child of the House, who decided what came and went according to the way the birds flitted from statue to statue.

Once he leaves its clear that he has become the kind of person that belongs not to our world. Raphael, also, embodies that. Talking to the birds, slightly estranged of our world, muddling through, connected to the peace and quiet of the house. In some ways the very mythical way of the world of the House allows us a lens with which to look at the estranged of society, men and women who by quirks of personality or mental structure are forever doomed to interact with this world and know nothing of the House.

Underneath all that is a subtext of reverence for a life lived in emptiness of man and connection to the world. It is echoed in the book's parting lines, as the overlap between Matthew and Piranesi coalesces a new, profound understanding of our world as his House. Maybe we could all do to live with a little more reverence - though I am confident that Clarke had no such desire to simply impart a moral. I feel, instead, that she was simply enamored with the themes - with those who do not truly belong to our world, with the nature of the relation between man and world, with the labyrinth and how it would warp the mind, and with the labyrinthine man and his transition into the labyrinth, and back out again. 

We briefly revel in Clarke's thoughts, flitting, before we are shown the door.

This is just one of those books. I don't want to say or imply too much about the story because I think it is best to go in blind, and let it unravel as you read - embrace the confusion in the beginning. 

The central theme of this novel struck me to my core. I love when an author takes a part of the human experience and creates an entirely new world around it. Piranesi's experiences in this book, although not the same as my own, are deeply relatable. It is books like these where fiction (and specifically fantasy) really shines in its ability to help us understand ourself and others. 

Alli

This is just one of those books. I don't want to say or imply too much about the story because I think it is best to go in blind, and let it unravel as you read - embrace the confusion in the beginning. 

The central theme of this novel struck me to my core. I love when an author takes a part of the human experience and creates an entirely new world around it. Piranesi's experiences in this book, although not the same as my own, are deeply relatable. It is books like these where fiction (and specifically fantasy) really shines in its ability to help us understand ourself and others. 

incredibly beautiful and poignant. the atmosphere and imagery were amazing and piranesi was a great character. i loved annotating all the information and even tho it was for school it was still nice to do. i was very invested in the mystery and was constantly confuse on where the story was heading (in a good way). diving into piranesi’s past and learning abt him WITH the character was such a unique experience, it was all so strangely cozy and comfortable with a looming eeriness of smth sinister that exists near. it was ALL SO GOOD I LOVED IT 

violet nguyen

yaya

This book introduces many cool concepts, but not many of them are not given enough time. The book either needs to be longer or shorted.

simran singh

Quick and compelling read. The first half of the book drags on though and at times feel inconsequential. I would have also liked to see things tie together a little bit better.

All in all, I'm glad that I read the book and it was a fun take on the labyrinth concept.

Aidan

Quick and compelling read. The first half of the book drags on though and at times feel inconsequential. I would have also liked to see things tie together a little bit better.

All in all, I'm glad that I read the book and it was a fun take on the labyrinth concept.

Laurel 

easy, beautiful read with an endearing mc 

Jackie Lu

Drew Nerbas

Piranesi is a story that holds so much complexity and incredible story telling in a very concise and short book. I absolutely loved it, and despite not being fully sure on some of the themes, it has grasped my attention enough so that I am excited to look more into the hidden meanings in the story.

what a charming narrator and horrifying series of revelations. i can't think about it for too long or i might be sick. glad i read it in one go.

rory

it's great, but i agree with one of the reviews; best to read this in one sitting because it's difficult to visualize the worldbuilding. nonetheless, i find it quite fun to read!

kite

Ryan Mateyk

Beautiful, magical, an endearing narrator - no notes!

I need to reread this book. I started it when I wasn’t in the mood and had no idea what it was about. I feel like I didn’t give it the attention it deserves. However, the House sounds nice and I long to visit it myself 

Piranesi

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