Piranesi

Book 16 out of 100 in my 2025 challenge.

In college, I read a book called Happy Endings. It was written by a UP alum named Luis Katigbak. He hadn’t won his Palanca yet. This was his first publication. In it was a story about a girl who traverses worlds by folding photographs of herself from another world. It was a simple story—honestly, quite short—but it was the first time I’d encountered a kind of whimsical fantasy that I’ve always looked forward to since then.

In a way, Piranesi is a whimsical fantasy. In another, it’s not. It starts as a day-to-day recollection of a man living in a house that encompasses his entire world. Very quickly, the world is revealed to be more fantastical than mundane—while the house and its different accoutrements appear normal, their sum, their endlessness, and their stillness prove otherwise.

It’s a mystery, and at the heart of it is the question: Who is Piranesi—our narrator? He is both childlike in his curiosity, confidence, and naïveté. As the short novel progresses, you can’t help but feel for him as the mystery’s layers peel away, one after another.

The audiobook is a brisk six hours long—short for a typical novel. The narrator does an excellent job of bringing Susanna Clarke’s world to life.

There is, of course, a deeper meaning to this prose—one where mental health and relatedness are central themes. But this is not the review for that. For me, the writing was tight, the story brisk—a steady pace and simple. Almost like a teen novel, though more because of the plot’s directness rather than the themes it explores.

Similar to Happy Endings by Katigbak, Piranesi leaves me craving more of this whimsical style of fantasy.