Review: Babel

Language is what makes us human. Words, sentences, paragraphs, etc. contain so much power to heal, to hurt, to change the world, to end a life, to start wars, to create peace. Language is a construct that we take for granted until it fails us or until we are confronted by a language not our own. The power of being able to make ourselves known by another human being is immense. It’s tough enough to do this in the language of our birth, but to convey meaning across two different languages is an incredible skill on its own. Words are symbols; they represent ideas. While we take for granted the definitions, it becomes apparent how fluid definitions are when learning another language. Finding the right word to convey meaning isn’t as simple as opening up a dictionary. There’s context and intent that can change meaning. Translation is an act that brings us together at the same time as it separates us. It conveys ideas in a manner to make one person understood by another, and in this conveyance, the translator chooses what is often the closest but not exact word(s). Something is always lost in translation. R.F. Kuang’s latest book, Babel, uses this loss as the basis for a magic system. Kuang writes elegantly of complex ideas regarding language while at the same commenting on the history of racism upon which the engine of Imperial Britain ran. At the end of reading this, you’ll be wondering about the history of the words you speak and of the privilege that builds empires.

Disclaimer: The publisher provided a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Any and all opinions that follow are mine alone.

© PrimmLife.com 2022

TL;DR

Babel by R.F. Kuang tells the story of Robin Swift, a boy caught up in the games of empire. His journey is a moving tale of complicity. Does he continue to take the luxuries empire provides him – though it will never accept as fully human – or does he attempt to change the empire? Kuang’s story still haunts me. Highly recommended.

Review: Babel by R.F. Kuang - Cover image - A penk and ink drawing of a tower rising above a city. White birds spiral around the tower. R.F. Kuang and Babel are written in bold, yellow script
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From the Publisher

From award-winning author R. F. Kuang comes Babel, a thematic response to The Secret History and a tonal retort to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell that grapples with student revolutions, colonial resistance, and the use of language and translation as the dominating tool of the British empire.

Traduttore, traditore: An act of translation is always an act of betrayal.

1828. Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, is brought to London by the mysterious Professor Lovell. There, he trains for years in Latin, Ancient Greek, and Chinese, all in preparation for the day he’ll enroll in Oxford University’s prestigious Royal Institute of Translation—also known as Babel.

Babel is the world’s center for translation and, more importantly, magic. Silver working—the art of manifesting the meaning lost in translation using enchanted silver bars—has made the British unparalleled in power, as its knowledge serves the Empire’s quest for colonization.

For Robin, Oxford is a utopia dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. But knowledge obeys power, and as a Chinese boy raised in Britain, Robin realizes serving Babel means betraying his motherland. As his studies progress, Robin finds himself caught between Babel and the shadowy Hermes Society, an organization dedicated to stopping imperial expansion. When Britain pursues an unjust war with China over silver and opium, Robin must decide…

Can powerful institutions be changed from within, or does revolution always require violence? 

Review: Babel by R.F. Kuang

Robin Swift is saved from death by cholera in Canton, China by a white man, who turns out to be his father. Saving Robin isn’t an act of generosity – the white man would never acknowledge Robin as a son – it as act that places Robin in the white man’s debt. It turns out that Robin’s father is a professor at the Institute of Translation at Oxford in Britain. Professor Lovell gives Robin a choice: come back to London and become a translator or be turned out as an orphan on the cholera stricken streets of Canton. Robin, a child, has no choice. He joins the professor back in London where six years of lessons in Latin and ancient Greek begin. Robin is afforded a luxury he couldn’t have imagined in Canton by a man for whom is simply a tool. At the end of his tutelage, he enrolls in Oxford. Specifically, Robin becomes a student of the Institute for Translation. He meets the cohort with whom he’ll be learning. There’s Ramy, Victoire, and Letty. Ramy is an Indian muslim, and Victoire is from Haiti. They’re the first people of color that Robin’s encountered in England. Letty is British born and bred, but she lacks the outright racism that the others find on British shores and in the very town of Oxford herself. If Letty were alive today, she’d consider herself ‘woke,’ which means for her racism is a personal not systemic reality. One she can’t understand and maybe won’t. The four become tight, the bestest of buds. They learn that not only will they be aiding the empire as translators, they’ll be magicians as well. Potentially, they’ll scribe silver bars, which creates magical effects based on the words and translations scribed into the metal. Silver magic is the most lucrative part of Oxford. It occupies the highest floor of the tower that houses the Institute of Translation. The tower, known as Babel, contains the knowledge of language, of magic, and of diplomacy. Robin and his cohort will study Latin, their birth language (except for Hetty who will study French), and a secondary language, in addition to the theory of translation. To remain at Babel, the cohort must study as if their lives depend upon it. For Robin, Ramy, and Victoire, it might. Failing could lead to banishment. Graduating could mean entrance into the highest tiers of British society. Well, not white society, but still up there. For ‘foreigners.’ One night, while walking alone, Robin sees a group of people running from the tower. One drops a bar of silver, and when Robin goes to pick it up, he finds himself staring into the eyes of a brother he didn’t know he had, a brother with ties to a subversive group whose goal is to counteract the harm that Babel perpetrates upon the world. This chance meeting awakens Robin to how intricately involved Babel is in the exploitation of other kids and of other nations. Babel may very well be the heart of the British Empire’s economy. Will Robin perpetuate Babel’s harms? Or will he follow in the footsteps of a brother he didn’t even know he had?

Babel is a third person novel with a couple of first person interludes. Also, footnotes pepper the narrative. The pacing is uneven; I read the second 50% of the book in less than half the time I read the first portion. The first half focuses on the intellectual journey that Robin is on, and the prose aims mostly to stay in the realm of the mind. It’s slow, interesting, and shows how capitalism can entrap anyone into a comfort based on the suffering of others. The second half deals with the messy emotional side of Robin, and it’s wonderful. It’s fast-paced without losing the anger that fuels the first half of the narrative. The second half is brutal and has a high ‘attrition’ rate. Put together, the two halves make a moving, eloquent tale about resistance, its costs, and trying to be seen as fully human.

Robin

Robin is an interesting character. He was largely passive for most of the novel in a build up to being a hero, of a sort. He was plucked from the doors of death to be a tool by a man who didn’t care for him. He was given zero choices. (Though, of course, libertarians would disagree – as contrariness is their natural state – that Robin had a choice to die or go to England. Though rational people would say that’s no choice, libertarians would say it’s still his free will.) Professor Lovell surrounded Robin with luxury but not comfort. It was expected that Robin learn, that he stay on task, and if he dared have a thought of his own, Robin would be placed on the first ship back to Canton to fend for himself. Even when he finds his brother, he goes along with his brother’s ideology. But, to be clear, he’s not totally passive. It’s the moments that he tries, that he goes against the wishes of the professor or his brother, that Robin shines. He is passive, but he has his limits.

It’s an accident that brings out the leader in Robin. Whether he’s a good leader or not is a conversation for a different time, but we do see Robin come into his own. And it’s heartbreaking. He’s a talented, smart kid. He’s found friendship and kindred spirits at Babel. He has a purpose, and he’s good at it. Life is sweet for all too brief a moment. This is what college is for many of us. It’s a place to find ourselves, our crowds, and to live momentarily without the realities of adulthood crashing down. Yet even in higher education, not everyone has this privilege. But Robin finds it. He finds happiness and fulfillment for a brief shining moment. It’s all the more bittersweet for when the reality of his existence as Cantonese among the rabidly racist shows him that he would be and never was anything more than a tool. Those moments of happiness were built upon the suffering of people who look like him and his friends.

For these reasons and others, Robin is a character I will be thinking about for a while. He is flawed, yes. He is passive, yes. He is brilliant, yes. He is tragic.

Tonal Retort to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

The publisher says this is “a thematic response to The Secret History and a tonal retort to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.” It’s been decades since I’ve read The Secret History, and I don’t remember much of it. So, I’ll leave the success of Babel’s thematic response to more knowledgeable people. (If you’re one of those knowledgable people, please, explain it to me in the comments below.) But I do want to take a stab at the ‘tonal response’ to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (JS&MN). JS&MN is one of my favorite book. But I’m an engineer, not as studied in literary criticism as Kuang; so, I’ll probably get things wrong, if not get everything wrong. I apologize for my errors.

I think what is meant by tonal retort is that Susanna Clarke, author of JS&MN, shows all trappings of empire without referring to it as empire. JS&MN shows audiences the glossy exterior of nineteenth century Britain. All the exploitation, greed, and colonialism exists in the background with no acknowledgement. Stephen Black is from the colonies, but his background is minimal at best. It’s a very pro-Britain text. Babel is very anti-Britain. In a post-Brexit world, Kuang’s depiction is much closer to how I view the UK.

In addition, JS&MN has very stylized prose. It feels more nineteenth century to me, someone who is not versed in nineteenth century writing. Kuang’s book possesses more of what I would consider modern day prose. But, again, I’m not versed in nineteenth century writing; so, Kuang’s prose might be more tonally in line with writing from that era. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell feels like speech of the aristocratic class; Babel feels more like the vernacular of the commoner. Part of the reason I love Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell so much is the tone. Listen to it on audiobook. It’s a gorgeous production. Now, I have to seek out Babel on audiobook to hear it.

I don’t know how Kuang feels about Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, but I’m going to see if she’s written about it or given interviews about it. Babel definitely has me looking at Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell in a new light, but it remains one of my favorite books. Putting it together with Babel would make for some interesting reading. I’m looking forward to that experience.

I could and probably am 100% wrong, though.

Footnotes

The footnotes in Babel didn’t work for me. They were interesting, and some imparted worldbuilding explanation. Taken on their own, I liked them. However, they slow the pace down too much for me. Kuang has written a very tight story that reads like a novel, not a history. The subtitle says an arcane history, but it doesn’t read like a novel. The footnotes work in Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell because the story is winding and prone to digressions. The footnotes in Babel are digressions, but no other part of the text are digressions. Kuang uses the main text of the novel to focus tightly on Robin’s story. So pursuing the footnote takes me out of the story.

Maybe the footnotes would have worked if I knew who they were for. Who, in world, was writing this history? I think I have an answer to this story, but it comes so late in the novel, I can’t be sure.

The footnotes do add to the story. I found many of them fascinating. Some, Kuang uses to provide the reader with a translation. As a person who struggles with one language and fumbles trying to learn a second, I have to say thank you.

The Horrors of Empire

Babel had a profound effect on me. I had to confront my own internal reactions to the text. Fantasy is a genre that I use to get away from the horrors of the world, but, here, Kuang put those horrors right in front of my face and dared me to look away. Sadly, I did turn my head on occasion, but on others, I didn’t. The following personal introspection is beyond the scope of this review. However, the fact that it made me reexamine my own reactions reminded me that fantasy, at least my reading list, has not pushed my experiences in the way my nonfiction reading has. It’s good to see a fantasy bring those historical issues to bear in an unflinching light. Kuang goes right to the heart of historical British attitudes. She doesn’t soften it; the ‘good’ white person still makes racist statements. Reading Babel was shocking to me, and that tells me that I need to look at my reading list. It was a reminder That good literature can also be good activism.

Conclusion

R.F. Kuang’s Babel blends intellectual interrogation of language with an unflinching display of the horrors of empire. This is a book I very much needed to read. The ending was perfect, emotionally resonant, and a reminder that our lives mean what we make them mean. Robin Swift got caught up in the games of empire, and when he tried to play, Babel was born. Kuang built a multi-layered book that I’ll have to return to. Highly recommended.

Babel by R.F. Kuang is available from Harper Voyager on August 23rd, 2022.

© PrimmLife.com 2022

7.5 out of 10!