Babel

The premise of this book is wonderful: translations between languages are always imperfect, and those slight mismatches give them power. In the world of this book, actual magical power. This is used to cause effects large and small in the industrial-revolution alternative-history setting of the book. The author, who herself was born in one country and grew up in another, and is a scholar of Chinese literature and language, brings that perspective to the book with force and with nuance.

I have mixed feelings about the world that the author creates; in many ways, it's very much like our world at the same point in our history. The same colonial empires, the same power structures, etc., just for slightly different reasons. I feel like this is not really fully taking advantage of the premise. On the other hand, key elements of the plot very much hinge on interactions with real historical figures and events - I suppose that only really works if the world has a history similar to our own. It also sets up a point of possible divergence from our history.

The story she tells is powerful, wide-ranging, and provocative. It touches on issues of race, class, and imperialism, and makes some of the power structures implicit in them explicit by giving them literal powers. It's a strong tale of struggle and empowerment, and certainly worth a read.

I very much enjoyed reading this book. It's written in an engaging style that picks you up and draws you along - I found myself page turning and staying up to read one more chapter before bed. Usually a good sign that you've got yourself an engaging read!

The book is a fictionalised alternate history of the British colonial period of the early 19th century. Although it is inescapably told from a 21th century vantage point - the discussions of the characters often use phrases like "lived experience" that are not of their time - I thought it did a great job of setting the scene of the time period with its cruelties, inequalities and contradictions. I was particularly impressed with the setting - the descriptions of Oxford and the way that the author was able to create this feeling of a bubble within the city were especially well done, and the novel was at its best when it was set in and around the Tower of Babel. (I felt that when the narrative left the city it was not quite as strong in general).

I've read a lot of books of the form "character from disadvantaged background is given a chance to do something great, pushes through barriers of discrimination to succeed", to the point where I'm sometimes a bit numb to the formula. Whether or not you think this book is one of those probably hinges on your definition of "success"(!), but for me it neatly subverts the form in a pleasing way.

Characterisation is decent although I did feel that sometimes there was a bit too much explicit that could have been implicit. But one of the things that really stood out was how naturally the main friendship group was written. I thought the author did an excellent job of exploring how different personalities can fit together within a small group of friends.

It's very tempting to review books like this by analogy - you can see elements from authors like Susannah Clarke, Mary Gentle and JK Rowling. But ultimately I think this book is best described on its own merits. Its got a great setting and builds to a tense climax. It has an interesting point of view on the colonial time-period and manages to tell a fresh and satisfying story with it (rather than just making a point). Can recommend!

i have so much to say, and so many thoughts about this book, yet i haven't found the right words yet to translate my thoughts and feelings into written words (which is funny because that book is all about language, lol). all i can say for now is that this book made me fall in love with reading all over again, and now i just want to deep dive into my tbr list, well knowing that i have to realize and come to terms with the fact that babel has put my expectations very high as it has embodied literally everything i love about reading and literature and scratched the language nerd part of my brain so incredibly well. this is definitely one i will revisit a couple of times and which will cross my mind for a while. it was impossible to catch up on all the research, the historical contexts and backgrounds and OF COURSE the language and etymology facts during the first read, but i am ready to soak them all up. well, not quite ready, yet, as this has to settle a little and i have to arrange my thoughts first. but i am looking forward to it, and also looking forward to (maybe) share my thoughts in more detail.

J'ai beaucoup de mal à rassembler mes pensées sur Babel, et c'est pour cette raison que je préfère ne pas laisser de note. Parce que j'ai aimé et n'ai pas aimé ce roman en même temps.

Le style est superbe. Le contexte et le genre me séduisaient (dark academia, 19e siècle, roman de formation, je suis déjà conquis, je suis un homme simple). Le système de magie était original et intelligent. La construction du récit est efficace et bien menée. Les personnages m'ont plu... au début.

Que s'est-il passé ensuite ?

Le problème principal, c'est le manque absolu de nuance. Le roman ne décolle jamais du manichéisme. Et je comprends, je comprends qu'on écrive un roman engagé avec colère, qu'on martèle ses idées avec rage.
Mais ici, malheureusement, la thèse a de lourdes conséquences sur le développement des personnages. Et elle aboutit aussi à une certaine condescendance. Je peux survivre à la condescendance, ça va, je m'en fiche, je suis blanc et on veut me secouer légitimement ; mais ça me paraît un manque de respect à une grande partie du public visé, des personnes racisées intéressées par un roman dark academia sans biais racistes, et qui reçoivent à la place le mépris qui vise tout lecteur ici.

Revenons aux personnages, caricaturaux. J'ai trouvé le traitement de Letty... critiquable, mais réagissais-je de façon typiquement blanche ? En réalité, quand on y réfléchit, son développement est extrêmement sexiste, et on sent la haine de l'auteur pour ce personnage, ce qui n'est jamais bon signe. On en arrive à une scène forcée particulièrement out-of-character qui finit de noircir le personnage, alors qu'elle aurait juste pu rester quelqu'un de pas ouf, mais pas... à ce point.
Et si Letty pose particulièrement problème, les autres personnages ne sont pas épargnés, même si c'est plus discrètement. Il y a aussi trop de choses expliquées au lieu d'être montrées, ce qui aboutit à une certaine froideur, une distance regrettable.

Je ne veux pas du tout dire qu'il n'y a aucun recul critique de la part de l'autrice, aucune contradiction mise en valeur dans le roman. Il y a justement des questions éthiques soulevées qui restent sans réponse. Mais l'exécution des scènes, l'évolution des personnages... sont trop simples. Et prévisibles.

Et si l'autrice décide d'être claire et explicite, pourquoi ne pas en faire de même pour une relation homosexuelle entre deux personnages qui est seulement sous-entendue ?

Quant au worldbuilding... j'ai vu que certains lecteurs étaient gênés de la trop grande ressemblance entre notre 19e siècle et celui du roman, moi non, pas du tout. Mais ça génère des bizarreries du point de vue de la cohérence de l'ensemble. Et la question sociale est trop vite abordée. J'aurais aimé que la relation du silver et des classes pauvres soit plus développée, et dans des directions différentes.
Autre problème qui m'a agacé... POURQUOI est-ce qu'immédiatement après que les maintenances sont dues, les trucs s'effondrent ? Ils ne prévoient pas les maintenances avec de l'avance, en cas de problème ?

Pourtant, il y a de belles scènes, dont je me souviendrai - en d'autres termes, ce n'est pas un roman que je déconseille. Je pense qu'on peut vraiment l'adorer. Il mérite l'attention qu'il a reçu. Mais il mérite aussi d'être critiqué ; au moins pour ses personnages et ses incohérences.

‘Faire sauter le monde colonial est désormais une image d'action très claire, très compréhensible et pouvant être reprise par chacun des individus constituant le peuple colonisé.’ (‘Blowing up the colonial world is now a very clear, comprehensible action image that can be taken up by each and every one of the individuals making up the colonized people.’) —Les Damnés de la terre, Frantz Fanon

I was quite eager to pick up Babel, one of the most hyped books in historical fantasy in recent years. R. F. Kuang is an author whom I’ve not yet read, but Babel fulfilled the role of acquainting me with her style and areas of concern. Also, life happened, so it’s been three months since I’ve finished the book… suffice it to say I will not have anything groundbreaking to say on this. I had some major issues with the novel, so even though its themes and the writing were commendable, I found it wanting. Parts of the novel also dragged for me. That is not to diminish Kuang’s talent at all—she is quite accomplished, especially for publishing so many novels at her age (which is terrifyingly close to mine). The characters were intriguing to start with, but they lacked the kind of depth I was anticipating. Robin, our protagonist, feels quite shallow for much of the novel—his actions are reactionary, merely parroting what is going on around him, and his own thoughts being as muddled and shapeless as the reader’s (perhaps intentionally). We are told rather than see the effects of his Victorian upbringing, and that too occurs at a breakneck pace. Robin’s fellow Babblers are interesting characters in that I liked the dynamic each brings to the group. Ramy and Victoire were a great balance of depicting the marginalized experience at an elite institution, contrasted with Letty, the admiral’s daughter, who has certainly fought for her place but neglects to acknowledge the advantages she has. Still, though the group dynamic was heartwarming at first and heartbreaking later on, I didn’t get to see the experiences that bring the group together so much as I was told about them, and the time skips do not help. Moreover, since we primarily have Robin’s perspective, the reader’s understanding of the group dynamic itself is rather narrow. The characters had the bones of something meaningful, but as a reader, we get merely a surface-level glimpse at their interactions. Perhaps one of the things that irked me about this book is that I had been told and thus expected something like an antithesis to The Secret History, or an in-depth examination of the darker side of ‘dark academia’ with respect to colonialized populations. There is some of that, too, but a lot of it is also reinforcing typical stereotypes about Victorian England that I’m already quite aware of. Yes, people mock Ramy and Victoire, who are more obviously ‘other’ than Robin. Yes, people in Victorian-era London are racist and propagate colonialism with every breath. On the other hand, we happen to meet members of a parallel ‘secret society’, who of course are meant to be the rebellion in the subtitle of the novel. Despite that, we get only hints as to their intent until the final section of the book. I kept thinking to myself—when will the “rebellion” actually happen? The blatantly black-and-white, good vs. evil dichotomy felt juvenile and uninspired. Reality, especially when dealing with complex issues like colonialism, can be messy and very grey. Kuang could have dived into that complexity a bit more; as a whole, it ended up feeling like a very surface-level examination of colonialism.On the other hand, I had the expectation of a fantasy alternative-world Oxford. This, too, was a disappointment. As it stands, Philip Pullman’s fantasy Oxford had significantly more interesting worldbuilding than this did. This just felt like a vaguely interposed version of modern Oxford (where the author clearly sourced things from memory, which in all fairness she does admit at the outset), Victorian Oxford, and a hint of magic underfoot. That’s about it. It wasn’t hard to forget that magic exists in this universe at some point; even without the power of silverwork, the humans in this tale are cruel and exploitative. So in terms of a magical Oxford that bends around the power of a seemingly ‘limitless’ magic, we don’t actually see anything that looks like a product of its circumstances, but rather a product of our own. We got the same two or three facts about the magical properties of silver, and then the obvious Chekhov's gun was so obvious that it felt like a punch in the head. The ways in which magic impacts Oxford’s society is a parallel to colonial attitudes and their effects; but in essence, this leaves the narrative feeling very predictable and mundane. The pacing and plot were lacking as well. I found the ending to be quite bizarrely executed and the pacing very imbalanced, especially since the first third of the book drags, and while the second finally picks up a little, the third rams at you like a freight train at full speed with little semblance of buildup or follow-through. Certain aspects of the plot were incredibly formulaic. Though I did find some parts exciting, they came far too late in the book for me to enjoy them as much as I would’ve otherwise. The intrigue of the plot lost its charm by the middle portion, as I kept reading mainly to get closure and find out how things would resolve, rather than by the force of the narrative itself.As with the book, I’ve rather lost my steam with this review; indeed, it’s been a few months at this point since I’ve even read the book. I’m certain I had a lot more to say once, but whatever it was, I will have to resign it as lost to time so I can move on with my life and finally finish this review. Also, Kuang got some of her Latin text glaringly wrong, in a book that is emphatically about language, so I can only imagine what other seemingly minor details were overlooked in editing that affect the overall (il)logic of this book.