Title: Piranesi
Author: Susanna Clarke
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Bloomsbury
Publication Date: September 2020
Format: Paperback
Length:  272 pages

Read if you like: memory lost and regained, themes of identity and power, a MC in isolation, limits to perception, illusion vs. reality, exceptional independence

Rating: 

I was drawn to Piranesi because the premise sounded incredibly unique: a character whose house is actually a labyrinth that routinely floods, whose memory is limited to the time that he’s been in the house. I didn’t know what to expect, but it turned out to be an odd, beautiful novel with some truly lovely, prose-like writing. It was short, clocking in under 300 pages, but every bit of it Clarke made count. 

When you read enough, sometimes it can feel rare for a story to really take you by surprise, but this one did. The plot and the setting were equal parts unique, and Piranesi himself was a fascinating main character to see unfold. This was a book that’s really stuck with me and an easy one to recommend.

The Book Synopsis: Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

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.

The Review

This was definitely one of those books that makes you stop and wonder how exactly the author dreamed up the premise. It was unique and interesting and weird and heartfelt all at once. I loved watching the mystery of Piranesi and the House slowly unfold over time.

Speaking of the house, what a unique and chilling setting. Piranesi is endlessly optimistic and inspired by the Roman-feeling sculptures and columns in the beginning, but as the reader, you never really trust his perception. It’s obvious that it feels lovely to Piranesi because it’s all that he knows, and he himself is a radically independent and self-sufficient human, so he thrives in the setting, but as a regular person it’s evident from the very beginning that something is very wrong. I really enjoyed how Clarke brings you on this ride of Piranesi’s changing perception over time as he slowly begins to see it how the reader does and begins to pull the disparate pieces of his experience, and the way he’s connect to The Other, together. The House itself becomes a character through Piranesi’s eyes and it’s as enjoyable as it is strange to witness.

Clarke is a really lovely and lyrical writer as well. I enjoyed the way she used Piranesi’s journals, which were almost a running steam of consciousness in combination with academic observation, to bring out emotion and feeling from what otherwise felt like a bleak setting. Journal entries are one of my favourite literary storytelling mechanisms and I felt like it was executed perfectly in this novel. It drove the mystery of Piranesi, the House, his relationship with The Other, and his evolving sense of identity and reality home in a very impactful way. 

I liked that the book was relatively concise, particularly given that despite the size of the mystery and the depth of Piranesi’s place in it, there isn’t really a whole lot that happens. Even with a light set of events though there’s no shortage of emotion or intrigue, and I felt like while it was short, it packed an outsized punch. It was a real demonstration of Clarke’s talent. 

This was a really enjoyable weird little book. It was something that was truly different from anything I’ve read in quite some time and I expect it to stick with me as a result.