Bloomsbury, 2020
I am determined to explore as much of the World as I can in my lifetime. To this end I have travelled as far as the Nine-Hundred-and-Sixtieth Hall to the West, the Eight-Hundred-and-Ninetieth Hall to the North and the Seven-Hundred-and-Sixty-Eighth Hall to the South. I have climbed up to the Upper Halls where Clouds move in slow procession and Statues appear suddenly out of the Mists. I have explored the Drowned Halls where the Dark Waters are carpeted with white water lilies. I have seen the Derelict Halls of the East where Ceilings, Floors – sometimes even Walls! – have collapsed and the dimness is split by shafts of grey Light.
I picked up, and then put down Piranesi upon its release, having only read half the first chapter. I can’t tell you what gave me cause to do so; I could ascertain it was a Very Good Book, but not one for me at the time. Thankfully, I had another go at it and read it in two sittings. Piranesi is a whimsical novel, one where the setting is so vividly described someone could probably have a good go at charting the eponymous character’s explorations through the House as the story progresses. The conclusion was not what I expected at all, but I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, one of the theories I had about Piranesi inspired another novel idea I had in the setting of Dark Century, and I’ve already made a note to re-read Clarke’s opus if I ever get to tackle it.
This review originally appeared in Dispatch Edition #3.
The Dispatch is a monthly roundup by British speculative fiction writer, Jordan Acosta. News, short reviews and more, published every first Thursday. You can subscribe at jordanacosta.co, and read previous editions, here.