"Babel" Review

An experiment of language and violence

SPOILER FREE

This book had been on my list for quite a while. It was a recommendation by my boyfriend’s dad— who has immaculate taste in books— but it had felt a bit daunting. Sitting at 546 pages, I anticipated a long read. However, I was blown away by this book’s urgent pace, suspenseful mood, and engagement with ideas.

The central character— Robin Swift— was taken from Canton as a young boy and saved from a plague that took his entire family. He grows up in England, learning English, Greek, and Latin and refreshing his Mandarin and Cantonese. A mysterious professor—Richard Lovell— is his guardian. Robin knows that he is bound for Oxford’s translation program “Babel,” but he does not know why. Robin studies and eventually gets into Oxford. It seems to be everything he had ever dreamed, but there is a dark underbelly to Babel as well. Robin learns the magic of silver-working and becomes exposed to the complicated web of imperialism and manipulation behind England’s success.

This premise is wild and complicated, which could go horribly in the wrong hands. However, R.F. Kuang manages to weave together these elements without getting too convoluted. The decision to make Robin clueless about the world allows Kuang to explain the vast lore to the audience without overwhelming or boring them. Each bit of exposition feels like a piece of a puzzle.

The most impressive aspect of Babel is the way it deals with post-colonial ideology through fantastical means. Set in a version of our 1830s, the silver-working of England is the key to their global power. It is not accident that silver-working requires translation to work. England needs the culture and language of its colonies to maintain power, but it also must suppress the value of those same cultures.

Kuang takes a decidedly progressive stance on imperialism and even makes the case for potentially violent solutions. However, even with this conviction, Kuang cannot seem to imagine an end to the oppression depicted. The end of the novel leaves us wondering of what will come of most of our characters or the imperialist conflicts at hand.

While some might count this a lack of imagination, it serves to underscore the hopeless, complicated situation. In some ways, the empire was inevitable. Its fall is inevitable, too. Rather than offer the solution, Kuang is asking us questions so that we may come to one. She asks what it would take to dismantle the system, how could we replace it without falling into the same patterns, and how many lives can be lost in that pursuit.

The true power of Babel lies in the questions it forces upon the reader. Each character has their own solution, and we can see how they get to that conclusion. The characters are not purely good or bad, and they act like humans caught in a tragic predicament. The reader is meant to ask what we would do and with what consequences we are willing to live.

I recommend Babel to anyone interested in history, language, or contemplating big ideas.