Spoilers ahead

“Piranesi’s house is no ordinary building: Its rooms are infinite, its corridors endless, its walls are lined with thousands upon thousands of statues. 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.”

This blurb is the perfect way to introduce Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke. From here, a reader needs to know nothing else. The first few pages will tell you all the things above, and detail Piranesi’s lonesome existence. But Piranesi is not lonely, he lives to record and catalogue the halls of his world.

I was told that fans of “The Ocean at the End of the Lane” by Neil Gaimen would love this book. While it’s been a decade since I read that novel, I remembered quite enjoying it, and when my wife gave Piranesi her glowing recommendation, it quickly became my next hold at the local library.

The story of Piranesi is told as journal entries from the titular character. His perspective as an unreliable narrator is perfect. He details what’s interesting to him, the statues and the birds he encounters in the many rooms, and ignores what disinterests him. The House he is in, has no entrance nor exit, and Piranesi has no memory of ever being anywhere else.

I loved the character of Piranesi. He was so innocent and earnest. Joyful at discovering even the most minute detail, and eager to help anyone or anything that he thought may be in duress. He meticulously cares for the bones of the people who came before him, he longs to help the writer of an angry letter. He is pure, knows no betrayal, and lacks any semblance of selfishness. He is reverent and pious as a Child of the House. Piranesi earnestly believes that the House will provide, and he tackles is exploration of the house with an infectious zeal that you can’t help but be excited with him.

The House is isolating and perfect. Piranesi gives gratitude to the beauty of the statues. He doesn’t lust or envy, he just accepts who he is. It’s a heartwarming character trait, his innocence and naivety. I love the unreliable narrator writing, as enough clues are dropped that the reader can string together the events long before Piranesi is able to do it himself.

Piranesi was a delight to read. The story starts as a fantasy, a world completely unknown and foreign to us. Slowly, loose strings get pulled at, the fabric of the puzzle begins to fall away, and while still mystical, the framework of reason and logic begin to take hold. The beginning of the book feels like grabbing at smoke, and if you can enjoy the journeys through the mist, eventually the events give the world shape and leave you with a firm, echoing marble chamber. It’s not exactly a confounding puzzle, the clues and signposts are quite obvious from very early on, but Susanna Clarke tells the story so wonderfully, the writing kept me hooked, and my disbelief suspended for much longer than most stories. I was happy to abandon my logic and follow Piranesi through his halls.

I feel like the narrative has a quiet power of leaving the reader with discomfort. The House is a prison, and Piranesi, it’s prisoner. We know this, and yet, when a saviour arrives, I was left with ambiguous feelings. Piranesi didn’t want to leave the House, and for good reasons. The House was his home, it’s all he’s ever known. Sure, he may have the face and body of someone else, but without the memories of the person who went missing so long ago, that person is gone. He’s not going ‘back’, he’s being asked to move forward and leave his home. It should have been an easy end, Piranesi gets to return to the ‘real’ world, but I really loved the way Susanna Clarke approached it. As with nearly everything else in the book, with care and reverence.

Piranesi left me with an ocean in my heart. Strong, powerful, and yet gentle and calming. It both provides for life, and causes tragedy. I feel both melancholy and hope. Its complex feelings, but put simply, Piranesi was a beautiful book, and one I recommend without reserve.

“The beauty of the House is immeasurable; it’s Kindness infinite”