“Piranesi” by Susanna Clarke

This book might be labeled a mystery novel, of sorts. Or perhaps science fiction or fantasy. It is fantastical. And deeply mysterious. Giovanni Battista Piranesi was an eighteenth century Italian polymath who drew etchings of imaginary prisons. The eponymous hero of Clarke’s novel lives within a giant decaying house, made of stone, with endless halls adorned by giant statues and lapping tides of water that rise and recede with regularity. The novel is written as a series of diary entries, written by the protagonist, as he struggles to make sense of his world. He believes himself to be some sort of scientist. Or, at least, a man of reason and logic. He meets bi-weekly with the Other, the only other person he presumes to be living somewhere within the house, to exchange knowledge and insights into the mysteries of their home. “I realised that the search for the Knowledge has encouraged us to think of the House as if it were a sort of riddle to be unravelled, a text to be interpreted, and that if ever we discover the Knowledge, then it will be as if the Value has been wrested from the House and all that remains will be mere scenery…. The sight of the One-Hundred-and-Ninety-Second Western Hall in the Moonlight made me see how ridiculous that is. The House is valuable because it is the House. It is enough in and of Itself. It is not the means to an end.”