Susanna Clarke's 2004 debut novel, "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell," an alternative history involving the return of magic to 19th century England, won the Hugo Award, and was picked by Time Magazine as the Best Novel of the Year.
Clarke has returned with her second novel, "Piranesi" (Bloomsbury), a magical, labyrinthine fantasy featuring a house of infinite rooms, and a quest to unravel a finite truth.
Read an excerpt from "Piranesi" below:
When the Moon rose in the Third Northern Hall I went to the Ninth Vestibule to witness the joining of three Tides. This is something that happens only once every eight years.
The Ninth Vestibule is remarkable for the three great Staircases it contains. Its Walls are lined with marble Statues, hundreds upon hundreds of them, Tier upon Tier, rising into the distant heights.
I climbed up the Western Wall until I reached the Statue of a Woman carrying a Beehive, fifteen meters above the Pavement. The Woman is two or three times my own height and the Beehive is covered with marble Bees the size of my thumb. One Bee – this always gives me a slight sensation of queasiness – crawls over her left Eye. I squeezed Myself into the Woman's Niche and waited until I heard the Tides roaring in the Lower Halls and felt the Walls vibrating with the force of what was about to happen.
First came the Tide from the Far Eastern Halls. This Tide ascended the Easternmost Staircase without violence. It had no color to speak of and its Waters were no more than ankle deep. It spread a grey mirror across the Pavement, the surface of which was marbled with streaks of milky Foam.
Next came the Tide from the Western Halls. This Tide thundered up the Westernmost Staircase and hit the Eastern Wall with a great Clap, making all the Statues tremble. Its Foam was the white of old fishbones, and its churning depths were pewter. Within seconds its Waters were as high as the Waists of the First Tier of Statues.
Last came the Tide from the Northern Halls. It hurled itself up the middle Staircase, filling the Vestibule with an explosion of glittering, ice-white Foam. I was drenched and blinded. When I could see again Waters were cascading down the Statues. It was then that I realized I had made a mistake in calculating the volumes of the Second and Third Tides. A towering Peak of Water swept up to where I crouched. A great Hand of Water reached out to pluck me from the Wall. I flung my arms around the Legs of the Woman carrying a Beehive and prayed to the House to protect me. The Waters covered me and for a moment I was surrounded by the strange silence that comes when the Sea sweeps over you and drowns its own sounds. I thought that I was going to die; or else that I would be swept away to Unknown Halls, far from the rush and thrum of Familiar Tides. I clung on.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it was over. The Joined Tides swept on into the surrounding Halls. I heard the thunder and crack as the Tides struck the Walls. The Waters in the Ninth Vestibule sank rapidly down until they barely covered the Plinths of the First Tier of Statues.
I realized that I was holding on to something. I opened my hand and found a marble Finger from some Faraway Statue that the Tides had placed there.
The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.
Excerpt from "Piranesi." Copyright Susanna Clarke, 2020. Reprinted by permission of Bloomsbury.
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