Cover Image: Piranesi

Piranesi

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Member Reviews

Piranesi is transporting and fantastical. I had to read it in chunks because I could not put it down but unfortunately did not have the time to gorge on it. It kept me engaged and guessing, and I was just WAITING for every single reveal with suspense I do not usually feel while reading.

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This book was a wonderful and whimsical escape during these dark and stressful times. A delightful little mystery that also scratched my itch for a fantasy novel set just outside of our reality. I loved Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell and thus had high expectations for this book. Those expectations were met and exceeded. I look forward to future books from Susanna Clark.

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Book and Film Globe review
By Michael Giltz
One of three sci-fi and fantasy titles reviewed together

Here are three of the most anticipated fantasy and sci-fi novels of the fall. Author Susanna Clarke finally delivers a follow-up to her remarkable debut Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. Unfortunately, it’s a still-born effort that delights in evocative detail but forgets the drama. Naomi Novik’s work appears at first glance to be a regression to her fan fiction roots. At last glance, it’s DEFINITELY a regression to her fan fiction roots, but in all the best brain-clearing, goofily grinning ways imaginable. Finally, science fiction master Kim Stanley Robinson is at the top of his game with a near future look at the climate crisis packed with his usual attention to the latest science and its head-spinning possibilities. It’s harrowing, harsh and in the end inspiringly hopeful.

Let’s work our way up. Susanna Clarke disappeared from view after the massive success of her first novel in 2003 and a hurried, almost apologetic follow-up of short stories two years later. Like best-selling author Laura Hillenbrand, Clarke lives with chronic fatigue syndrome, which you might as well call the vapors or hysteria as far as the derision it provoked for years in the medical community. Now it’s recognized by fancier names like ME/CFS and taken more seriously. But it’s poorly understood and the debilitating effects remain.

Clarke felt a genuine continuation of her period fantasy sitting midway between Charles Dickens and Jane Austen with a healthy dollop of magick tossed in simply needed too much research, too much writing, too much…effort.

Instead we have the simple, slim, artfully imagined tale Piranesi. It begins with our hero trapped or living or imprisoned in a fantastical setting. That would be a many-roomed building so massive that tides flood the bottom floors and clouds fill the upper floors. The many floors in between are mostly devoid of people but contain statuary and other artwork. I pictured it as the Metropolitan Museum Of Art times a hundred.

Roaming it all is our hero, who narrates the tale and dates each entry in his journal with significant events in their lonely existence. For example, Piranesi heads one section: Entry For The Tenth Day Of The Fifth Month in The Year The Albatross Came To The South-Western Halls. Either you’re down for something like this or you run in the opposite direction and I am most definitely down.

It’s akin to Jorge Luis Borges, Italo Calvino and perhaps the most apt precursor here, Stephen Millhauser. That Pulitzer Prize winner spins out detail with a sharp and beautiful style that turns the enumeration of the rooms in a department store into a beguiling story. For a brief while, Clarke does the same. And then Clarke does nothing, absolutely nothing with it.

We soon get the lay of the land. Piranesi is a human trapped in this vast, lonely expanse and doesn’t quite know why or how. Their one contact is a two-bit villain Piranesi admires but we know means no good. And it’s all inspired by academia, just like Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. That novel revolved around two scholars who butted heads over their thoroughly incompatible beliefs in how magic works. This book is about a professor turned guru seducing his students into wild and dangerous experiments to open a door to alternate realities. Needless to say, the man was on to something.

All well and good, but the novel is far too static to satisfy. We figure out Piranesi’s dilemma long before our hero, which is a frustrating place to be. It’s ok to be a little ahead of your protagonist but you shouldn’t be tapping your feet with impatience. The little drama that Clarke introduces all takes place off stage, like that charismatic professor and an interesting but under-sketched police officer who risks her career to bring justice to this fantastical land. Clarke’s novel is like an opera with a gorgeously elaborate set that forgets to include any singers.

-- Michael Giltz

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This book is almost impossible to review. It's strange and haunting tale of the secrets of the universe and the evil that can be found inside humans. To say more would give away too much of the story. I will say that I was utterly confused at the beginning of the book and it was not until about halfway through that I started to understand enough to really enjoy the story.

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What a strange but lovely book. I mostly read right before bed when I getting ready for sleeping. It felt like stepping into my dreams a few minutes early.

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Absolutely drenched in magic. This is a book that is at once a tour de force of beautifully descriptive writing and a deep examination of what makes us human beings.

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This is a beautifully written book and a fascinating example of how an unreliable narrator can guide a story. While it started slowly, it built quickly and continued to build as Piranesi learned more. Really enjoyable read.

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This highly anticipated new novel from Susanna Clarke is weird. It is the most enticing, deliciously weird story I've read in a very long time. If reading books was akin to an acid trip, this would be it. I'm having trouble even describing how I feel about this book because it is so odd and unusual. I suspect that each reader will experience it differently. Some will give up at the beginning as you try to unravel the Third Northern and Western Walls and the Ninth Vestibule; others will succumb to confusion and hopelessness halfway through; but others will make it all the way through and come out on the other side a changed reader.

This takes some time and attention, but it's well worth the effort.

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When I went into this book I though it would somehow relate to Greek mythology because of the satyr and Greek column on the cover but I was wrong. But I’m 100 percent fine with being wrong this time! This is a very interesting book that is a compelling read with a wild mystery I never saw coming. It is written beautifully but it took me a bit to get used to while reading.

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Fantastic! Easily one of my favorite books of the year. A wonderful, secretive, dazzling, puzzling experience.

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Great book! Loved it and will let my customers know. Set up an endcap in the store to feature it. Attractive cover and page turning tale!

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What a strange little creature this was.

There's no way around it - Piranesi shares a lot of DNA with Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves: infinite shifting rooms, minotaurs, a strange video of twisting hallways, a mysterious journal...

But for all that, Piranesi is much more... human. It follows one man through this liminal space as he comes to terms with the idea that he and the house are something very different than first - or last - impressions might lead one to believe. As much as the book is an exploration of the place, it's much more an exploration of the person and how he perceives life in strange, grey, twisting halls. And it's beautiful. There's no two ways about it. The writing here is at times bluntly simple, at times almost decadent, and always beautiful.

Haunting, alienating, lonely - whatever you take away from it, Piranesi explores what it means to be home.

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Clarke's first novel since Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is a surprising shift in style, but all of the atmosphere, quirkiness, and magic remain. Told through the journal entries of a man called Piranesi (which he knows is not his name, but knows of nothing else to call himself), we are introduced to a sprawling, seemingly infinite labyrinth of halls, vestibules, statues, and seawaters. The mysteries of Piranesi's existence are slowly revealed, and like Piranesi's own labyrinth, the beginning of the novel is a little difficult to move through at first. Once the reader begins to pick up on the breadcrumbs of his past, though, the pace quickens and comes to a satisfying conclusion.

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A beautiful premise but it just didn't work for me.
I did not finish the book.
This was a free Advanced Reader copy.

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Memento meets The Starless Sea in Clarke's latest work, PIRANESI. As our main character explores the Halls of the World, the reader is brought into a mysterious place of Tides, Statues, and secrets. It's difficult to summarize without giving too much away, but this intricately and deceivingly simple story is an intriguing read. It's a great introduction to Clarke's writing style and a much shorter read compared to her most notable work, Dr. Strange and Mr. Norrell.

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What a weird book! I think it'll take another read to really get to what this one is all about. I will likely include it in a round up for Book Riot.

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Piranesi is set in a fantastical place, a series of halls filled with statuary. The narrator thinks of it as home, but has no memory of how he got there. He knows only one other living person, who he calls The Other. It was The Other who named him Piranesi, although he does not believe that to be his real name. In fact it is a satirical reference to Italian artist Giovanni Battista Piranesi, creator of a series of "Imaginary Prison" etchings depicting massive subterranean spaces.

Piranesi spends most of his time exploring the various Halls, recording his findings in a series of journals. His predicable life is interrupted when he meets an unexpected visitor who he calls The Prophet. That conversation causes Piranesi to begin to question his relationship to The Other. Warned of the presence of another visitor he receives a greater shock when she calls him by his true name, which triggers a flood of memories, from another time and another world.

Finally understanding how he came to be in the labyrinth he calls The House. When the visitor called Raphael reappears he sides with her against The Other. Back in the real world, Piranesi is able to resume his previous life, but one foot remains in the labyrinth.

Piranesi is a classic unreliable narrator (he's not even sure who he is). But he is quite conscious of that fact, which helps the reader to follow along as he discovers his own history. The novel creates a believable alternate reality: a haunting place largely inhabited by ghosts.

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I read this book because the description reminded me of Erin Morgenstern's The Starless Sea...a little too much. And it is similar in style, but not as good. I honestly don't know what to say about this book. After The Starless Sea I knew I loved the book, but I really couldn't say why. After this book I'm not sure if I like this book, and I really can't say why.

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One of the best books of the year. It is a must read. Stay with it, and enjoy the lush imagery of this author's imagination. I cannot believe how much I loved this novel. I may read it again.

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I dig unreliable narrators.

Few storytelling devices delight me as much – and none more so. That added layer of ambiguity, that feeling of being unable to fully trust the very person serving as the window into the narrative … it adds a dimension that I find irresistible.

Irresistible, I should say, if (and this is a BIG if) it is executed skillfully. Obviously, stories are better when they’re well-told, but a poorly-drawn unreliable narrator is as regrettable as a sharply-hewn one is wonderful. Good can be great, but bad can be truly abysmal – and the margin for error is razor-thin.

We get one of the good ones in Susanna Clarke’s new novel “Piranesi” – her first since 2004’s acclaimed “Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell.” The titular character more than rises to the occasion, sharing the story of the impossible place in which he lives in a manner that is both overtly and subtly untrustworthy. And when you put that in the sort of lush and vividly-realized fantastical setting that Clarke creates, well … you’ve got something pretty special.

The House is a place of infinite rooms, with massive hall after massive hall lined with thousands of elaborate and unique sculptures. Contained within the House is an ocean, one that ebbs and flows with its own tidal forces, flooding areas with a mostly predictable regularity.

This is where Piranesi lives. He is something a caretaker for the House (albeit a self-appointed one), spending his days exploring and mapping the place and recording his discoveries and ideas in his journals. There is just one other person in this world – a man the rather literal-minded Piranesi has dubbed the Other.

The Other is in the House seeking knowledge; he believes that somewhere in this place is a secret magic that would bring immense power to its possessor. Piranesi serves as an assistant of sorts, doing much of the actual searching as the Other spends little time with Piranesi in the House.

As far as Piranesi is concerned, he and the Other are the only two living people in the world, though over time, he has found the bones of additional people – a handful of those who came before. He is content to offer his assistance in the Other’s work, considering it to be quite important.

But when Piranesi, scared about forgetfulness and discovering gaps in his memory – he doesn’t even think Piranesi is really his name – begins to delve into his journals, he sees things, both on the page and off, that cause him to question … everything. These are the questions that, once asked, cannot be unasked – and whose answers may have inalterable consequences.

There’s SO much more to be said here, but this is a story whose myriad reveals are a big part of the fun. Spoilers are always bad and to be avoided, but with this book in particular, the element of surprise is genuinely important. Suffice it to say that the narrative evolves in a number of interesting directions – some expected, others anything but.

“Piranesi” is an immersive book, a story whose distinct voice quickly captures your mind’s ear. Piranesi is one of those characters that clarifies themselves IMMEDIATELY; we’re in his head in a matter of a few sentences, charmed by his naivete and slightly off-kilter manner of speaking and engaging with the world – his simple descriptor names for the statues, for instance. He’s the sole full-time resident of an impossible place, a self-appointed caretaker of something he doesn’t fully understand – or remember. His innocence leaves him ripe for misunderstanding, making him ideally unreliable.

Clarke is so good at the vivid realization of place – the House is a stunning literary creation. The difficulty of what is done here can’t be overstated, this evocation of an enclosed infinity. There’s a reason that her title character takes his name from an Italian neoclassicist best known for a print series titled “Imaginary Prisons.” She puts us there, in the midst of massive halls and vaulted ceilings and an unending parade of detailed sculpture; her world-building is such that we can SEE this place. It’s a rare gift.

Tonality matches setting here; both are steeped in an ever-so-slightly skewed reality, allowing the reader to slip into the seemingly still waters to experience the chaotic, conspiratorial churning just below the narrative surface. Marrying the sunny gormlessness of Piranesi to the sinister undertones of the world in which he walks makes for a compelling contrast.

“Piranesi” is a first-rate work from a first-rate writer, a wonderful and surreal romp. It reads like a pop cover of Borges, embracing aesthetic complexity in the service of exploring the ethics of exploration – all in just a couple hundred pages. Susanna Clarke is as good as it gets as far as wedding literary and genre conceits in her fiction; this is another example of her considerable abilities, one that is well worth the 16-year wait. You can take my word for it.

You know … assuming I’m reliable.

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