“Piranesi is an exquisite puzzle box,” a quote from David Mitchell claims on the dust jacket of my copy. Based partly on this quote, some reviews I’ve read, and a bit of word of mouth, I expected the book to be one of those inscrutable works of prestige fiction that resist interpretation. You know the kind: long, difficult reading that challenges you to unravel the gordian knot or else give up halfway through. Though the reading is rarely pleasant in works like this, it can nevertheless be very rewarding. I approached Piranesi with these expectations.
Piranesi is a puzzle box in the sense that all of its parts are finely crafted, fitting together in an ingenious mechanism whose completion brings joy. But in terms of being a difficult logical problem which requires solving, as far as I can tell, this book is just not that. Could be that I’m just too dumb to realize everything I’m missing, but my impression is what follows:
The most impressive thing about Piranesi is how easy and approachable it is. It is instantly entertaining, gradually revealing itself by giving the reader more knowledge about the characters, their past, and the world they inhabit. Every chapter is a revelation. I think this novel is a prime example of how to write a contemplation on the human condition without boring readers: if a page was not deeply moving, it was filled with intrigue, else laugh-out-loud funny.
The pacing is expert, the characters well-defined, and the setting fascinating in ways that don’t bear spoiling. Best of all, the payoff is exquisite. Textured and detailed: like its setting, as much can be read into it as its audience is inclined to.
I’m inclined to recommend that you read it.
Content warning: abusive relationships
Plot: 7
Characters: 10
Themes: 8
Prose: 8
Overall score: an empty plinth.
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