The biblical tower of Babel fell into ruin because of confusion among people who spoke different languages. Presumably it was a severe breakdown in communication, although the Bible doesn’t provide details. Building on this idea, the author R. F. Kuang has written a novel, aptly named Babel, with a magic system that exploits the differences of meaning between different languages. What is lost in translation becomes a source of power. It’s a difference that makes the difference!
While Babel has been compared to Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, other than the setting of the early nineteenth century and the common theme of magic, the two novels are very different. Babel is another iteration of the coming-of-age story whereby a young protagonist is initiated into the study of magic while making new friends – we’ve seen this before many times, it’s a very effective trope. While this is interesting in the first half of the book, the second half focuses on race, colonialism, power, economics, and the lengths people will go through to maintain the hegemony of the status quo. As someone from a Commonwealth country, I’m familiar with the historical setting of Pax Britannica, and I also had the experience as a multilingual international student of being in a foreign place with no other countrymen (at my college). That being said, I feel that Babel was overall depressing, and I think the sociological arc of the story is weaker – it feels like the author is trying too hard to push a particular point of view.
The tower of Babel is the centerpiece of Oxford because that’s where the magic happens. The ascendance and economic might of the British Empire and its East India Company maintain hegemony because they fashion magical technologies by etching words in different languages on silver. When someone fluent in those languages speaks the words, it imbues the silver object with magic that enhances a particular technology. For example, it can make cannons fire more truly, carriages travel faster or carry heavy loads, and caravels to more ably weather storms at sea. Metal-etching and language as the foundation of magic isn’t novel – the recent Foundryside series employs a related system – but the system in Babel is more interesting. Kuang’s background in multiple languages enhances her novel, and in my opinion, these are the strongest and most interesting parts.
When our main protagonist Robin and his fellow first-year students get their first tour of Babel, a professor says: “Now that you’re part of the tower… the tower knows you.” They’ve just given their blood so that they will be allowed safe entry and exit into the hallowed halls of Babel. Gotta keep the riffraff out. (Foundryside has a similar situation.) Then the professor intones: “You’re in the place where magic is made. It’s got all the trappings of a modern university, but at its heart, Babel isn’t so different from the alchemists’ lairs of old. But unlike the alchemists, we’ve actually figured out the key to the transformation of a thing. It’s not in the material substance. It’s in the name.”
I like that Kuang makes the connection to alchemy and the transformation of substances (transmutation), but then emphasizes that it’s not so much its ‘elementary’ material as its name that makes the difference. The power of names and naming is spread across myriad ancient cultures, and still holds significance today. It’s unfortunate that our hypermodern world has too a large extent lost this significance. I also think the idea that information underlies matter, rather than the other way around, is particularly intriguing – and there might be evidence deep in fundamental physics – but that’s a story for another time.
In the introductory class to Translation Theory, the professor says: “The first lesson any good translator internalizes is that there exists no one-to-one correlation between words or even concepts from one language to another… Language does not exist as a nomenclature for a set of universal concepts… How do we render the French esprit into English?” This then leads to the “three principles of translation”: A student recites these: “First, that the translation conveys a complete and accurate idea of the original. Second, that the translation mirrors the style and manner of writing of the original. And third, that the translation should read with all the ease of the original composition.”
The emphasis of really understanding more than one language deeply and fluidly moving between one language and another is magical, even in our non-magical world. I have first-hand experience trying to learn a new language that I did not grow up speaking. It’s hard work! I haven’t achieved depth or fluency, but I know it’s possible. And the Babel students work insanely hard at translation and getting to the tangled evolutionary roots of words in different languages. The professor also hints at a primordial ‘Adamic’ language that may have been lost while making hints to biblical Babel. A similar concept in Foundryside takes centre stage, while it’s merely a curiosity in Babel.
An example of how the magic works by exploiting the differences of word meanings in languages is provided by the professor: “The Greek word idiotes can mean a fool, as our idiot implies. But it also carries the definition of one who is private, unengaged with worldly affairs – his idiocy is derived not from lack of natural faculties, but from ignorance and lack of education. When we translate idiotes to idiot, it has the effect of removing knowledge. This [silver] bar, then, can make you forget, quite abruptly things you thought you’d learned. Very nice when you’re trying to get enemy spies to forget what they’ve seen.”
But there are problems. Silver tarnishes over time and must continue to be ‘maintained’ by cleaning the dross and re-inscribing. The professor explains that depending on the desired effect, you might need larger quantities of silver or higher purity. Most of the bars are alloys, and the continual need for repair and maintenance keeps the scholars of Babel rolling in riches. They have a monopoly. The other interesting aspect comes up in a conversation among students. As languages evolve and start to share more similarities, the erasure of differences causes the silver bars to lose power. This anchors an aspect of the story where Babel is interested in Oriental languages and the Far East. The larger differences in translation result in more ‘raw’ magical power to be exploited. This gives the book an international cast and emphasizes a variety of languages. The interplay between language and magic in Babel is deeper and more interesting than in Foundryside, and in my opinion, it’s the most magical part of the novel.
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