Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution by RF Kuang

My first exposure to Rebecca Kuang's ouevre was the BBC Radio adaption of her 2023 novel Yellowface. The language was lovely even though the subject - an unsuccesful European-American author taking the manuscript of a successful Chinese-American after being witness to her death - was discomfiting. She passes it of as her own work, to great acclaim.

The book is uncomfortable to read for anyone who dwells on where the boundaries of their personal morality and desire for success butt up against each other.

However, I did not immediately link the wonderfully titled Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford's Translators' Revolution (Babel from here on) with Yellowface. The sharp satire and critique of race in Yellowface is one thing, the historico-alternative-universe-steampunkesque setting of Babel is quite another.

That is not to say Rebecca fails to skewer the hypocrisy of a caste system which exists even today in Britain.

The setting for Babel is the 1830's and, while the story starts in a Canton devastated by plague, the main setting is Oxford. This Oxford, though, has an extra dreaming spire inserted into it's landscape - The Royal Institution of Translation, nicknamed Babel.

Babel's role is to find words which can be used to activate silver which, in Rebecca's universe, can become a material to enhance all kinds of things. In a manner which echoes actual history, Britain has leveraged it's position to be the dominant world power.

It stays on top of the world by expansion, and finding new ways to activate silver. The activation occurs by finding the subtle differences in translated words, and then inscribing them in the metal. While European languages are becoming 'mined' out for the purpose required Babel is pushing boundaries by seeking less well known languages. The main characters involved in the story use Mandarin, Haitian Creole, and Arabic.

There is a wonderful - as in beautifully conceived and written as opposed to uplifting - section where someone is ejected from college as their dissertation revolved around a fundamental mistake in trying to tie 'canard' (French for a duck - the bird, not the reflexive action to avoid attack from above) and 'canary' (the small songbird) together. They relied on folk etymology and entirely fail to reconcile the fact that canaries are named for the islands, which were named by the Romans for an abundance of canaria - or dogs - which they found there.

While language is a wonderful part of this book Rebecca delves much deeper and uses it, and the conceit of magical silver, to delve into the rapaciousness of colonialism and the insidiousness of societal racism.

A feature of the novel I love, from a very cursory knowledge of British/Chinese history of the era, is the tying of silver and opium together and the British shenanigans to force conflict with China. The way these historical realities are subverted for the sake of the tale is beautifully written and will enthral someone with understanding, drive someone interested to read more about the era, and thoroughly entertain the remaining readers.

And, through all of the historicity, Rebecca weaves deeply personal tales that are emotionally wrenching; from the opening scenes where the main character is 'saved' in Canton, to the story ending with Babel's fall, and through the epilogue.

I thoroughly recommend reading this book and, when I'm done with Natalia Theodoridou's Sour Cherry, I'll be looking at Rebecca's Poppy War trilogy

text by stuartcturnbull, picture via University College Oxford