A review by lizzygray
Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

dark mysterious medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No

4.0

I picked this book up at the recommendation of a fellow book-influencer who proclaimed, 
'it was a book he'd sell his soul to read again for the first time!" I don't remember being that interested in it, when it first came out. However, with a soul clenching statement like that and having recently revived my interest in Greek and Roman mythology, this book, with a golden image of Pan on the front cover, peaked my interest. 

On first reflections after reading the book, I thought meh, it was ok, a good read, but why? The book has a very slow start, and honestly I probably would have given up on it if I hadn't experienced a similar feeling when I visited the Louvre a month ago. At one point, I was totally lost in the halls of the museum among the myriad of white statues. Pulling my map out, I used numbers and statues to figure my way out of the labyrinth of history. That lost feeling kept me reading!

My overall impression was it felt like one big head trip in a mental patients reality who was trying to put order to the complexities of life by cataloguing/journaling his day to day experiences. The clockwork visits with The Other, who seemed more like the bored therapist, offered Piranesi continuity to his entire existence- he provided the life line to validate his will to live. Piranesi counted on those visits to create order for himself. However, when 16 arrived on the scene, the singular focus of trusting one person challenged Piranesi's world. For Piranesi to trust another he had to kill off The Other to be able to move on. 

I really wanted there to be some secret knowledge found, but yet as the novel advanced, the story for me evolved into a journey of how one can easily lose touch with reality, how habits create rhythm and trust in our internal lives, but disrupting the repetition can cause us to challenge the house of cards we often live in.