It’s a great big house, made up of infinite grand halls unfolding in every direction, walls lined with marble statues, great staircases cascading down to seas which inundate the lower floors, and reaching up to the upper floors disappearing into clouds. The statues are everywhere, of every size, and a random mix of cultural references. From mighty minatours to CS Lewis to Elephant & Castle (?), an interpretation (rendered in marble) of our overcrowded, messy, grubby world. If you’ve read the Magician’s Nephew (from the Narnia books), then the classical backdrop and the emptiness of this world remind me of Charn. But where Charn is a dead, the house is alive. There are birds in the middle floors, fish in the sea, and seaweed. And people (even if most are dead, like Charn). The house has its own drama, with the tides, floods and the weather literally woven into the fabric.
The house is the world, and the world the house. It’s intriguing and appealing. The solitude, just the noise of the tides and birds as your soundtrack, and time to explore a vast enchanted world… (less attracted by the fishing for survival and making things from dried seaweed).
After the quite wonderful introduction, the story then shifts into detective mode as Piranesi begins to discover truths about this world and about himself. Our cynical worldly knowledge keep us (as readers) one step ahead of him as he moves closer to the end game. It’s a fun and pacy journey, and I sped through the pages to find out what happens next.
Piranesi is such an enjoyable read and if I suggest one thing, it would be to savour the magnificence of the world of halls. Be Piranesi for a few hours, check your cynicism at the ninth vestibule, gaze through the window in the eighteenth south-eastern hall, linger in front of your favourite statues, cower in awe of the mighty minatours, and weave coral beads and fishbones in your hair. Don’t rush to uncover the mystery – it’s a short book, you’ll get there soon enough – the story is great but the real magic of this book lies in the house.
It’s a mere slip of a book but packs a whole world into its pages, and those early chapters are magical.
