Babel by Rebecca F. Kuang
Oderint dum metuant
(‘That’s our path to victory’)
Language is power and if you didn't already know that then please read this book.
Babel is a furious novel, part historical fiction, part academic dark fantasy, that interrogates the relationship between language, power, and empire. R.F. Kuang crafts a world that looks very much like 1830s Oxford (she puts some mild annotations for the ones being familiar with the real Oxford, I am not so I was okay), except that translation fuels a magical industry: silver-working, a technique that harnesses the gaps between words in different languages to produce power.
So we follow Robin Swift, a Chinese boy taken from Canton and raised to become an Oxford scholar at Babel, more specifically the Royal Institute of Translation. Oxford is magnificent, seductive, intoxicating…and built on exploitation.
This was what he wanted: a smooth, even path to a future with no surprises.
The only obstacle, of course, was his conscience
As Robin learns more languages, he also learns a quite uncomfortable truth: translation, especially under empire, is never neutral. Every dictionary, every academic debate, every lesson serves Britain’s expansion and control.
The novel’s greatest strength is its intellectual audacity. Kuang doesn’t just tell us that languages carry power; she builds a magic system from etymology and semantic nuance. I thought that was really brilliant. The footnotes, the digressions, the careful attention to linguistic detail are not decorative; they are the point. This is a book that wants you to feel the weight of words and as someone who comes from a literary background and having studied languages I loved the concept.
Emotionally, Babel is devastating (my blue tab for “heartbreak” ran out). It is a story about belonging and never quite belonging, about being welcomed into elite spaces only to realize that the welcome is conditional.
“He wanted Pendennis’s life, not so much for its material pleasures – the wine, the cigars, the clothes, the dinners – but for what it represented: the assurance that one would always be welcome in England.”
Robin’s friendships (with Ramy, Victoire, and Letty) are beautifully drawn, and Kuang captures both the solidarity and the fractures that emerge when systemic inequality is written into the very architecture of a place.
In the final part you understand that the subtitle “The Necessity of Violence,” is not metaphorical. Kuang forces the reader to confront whether change within oppressive systems is possible or whether such systems must be broken from the outside. I think that is why the last hundred pages are intentionally uncomfortable.
“That they were, in the end, only vessels for the languages they spoke.”
Did I like it?
Spoilers ahead
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Spoilers ahead 〰️
I loved the first two-thirds of Babel. The story, the atmosphere, and the emotional stakes were compelling, and everything felt coherent and purposeful. But toward the end, the pacing slipped. Events became less organically built and more rushed, which made the conclusion feel weaker than the brilliant setup promised and the quality of the first premises of the book
Characters
“Ramy, Victoire, and Letty – they became the colours of Robin’s life, the only regular contact he had with the world outside his coursework”
The friendship between the four outsiders was one of the strongest parts of the novel to me and I wished for more of that. Their bond felt genuine and layered, and I truly didn’t see the betrayal coming. I was convinced Letty would eventually understand their cause, so her decision was shocking (to me, I’m slow) yet still plausible within the story.
Where the novel fell short for me was in its antagonists. Lovell and Playfair were almost cartoonishly villainous: more symbols of imperialism and capitalism than fully fleshed-out people. A bit more moral complexity would have made their roles far more compelling. Aside from Letty (and even she only partially). So truly none of the characters on the side of power / empire felt three-dimensional.
I also felt like some of the relationships in the story weren’t explored enough…particularly between Robin and Griffin, Robin and Ramy, and even his relationship with Miss Piper.
Letty’s betrayal worked okay when we got her chapter and perspective, but I wish the narrative had delved deeper into its impact on the others. Similarly, Ramy should have been angrier at Robin over the Hermes Society. And Griffin ??? I mean he was Robin’s brother! yet their relationship wasn’t examined in the depth I was hoping for.
‘They were better than us.’
‘They were.’ She curled around his arm. ‘But it all still wound up in our hands, didn’t it?
The ending, while dramatic and I liked the idea, felt somewhat rushed to me. It came across as “let’s kill everyone and prove that violence is the answer,” without fully exploring the consequences or the moral weight of those choices. I understand the book is already long (around 500 pages). That said, I didn’t mind how it ultimately turned out, because it captured the tragedy and emotional resonance of the story, even if it wasn’t fully unpacked. I just was lacking something
Worldbuilding & Themes
I absolutely loved the magic system: I found it was unique, original, intellectually stimulating, and the fact that it was rooted in linguistics and translation was SO GREAT. As someone fond of languages, I loved how Kuang linked etymology, meaning, and colonial extraction. The worldbuilding made the thematic commentary hit hard.
« I’ve lived most of my life in a country that is deeply confused on whether I fully count as human. Trust me, I am no jolly optimist on the ethical qualms of white Britain. »
I also enjoyed the academic footnotes but I agree sometimes some concepts and ideas were repetitive, way too much. The reader doesn’t need to be reminded of the same point multiple times: the impact of the message is strong enough without repetition. And also… we’re not (that) stupid…
Final thoughts
Tell them what we did. Make them remember us
Despite its flaws, Babel is bold, ambitious, and emotionally powerful. The first two-thirds were so great, and I’m still glad I read it. The book made me feel so many things: heartbreak over the lack of parental love, the loneliness of being an outsider, the violence of misogyny and racism and capitalism and imperialism and (so on) but also the crushing inevitability of fighting a system that refuses to listen. I only wish RF Kuang had explored the relationships between the students more deeply and maintained the same narrative precision as the beginning.
An imperfect book but still a striking and unforgettable one.
“He had danced for years on the razor’s edge of these truths, had remained there as a means of survival, a way to cope, unable to accept either side fully because an unflinching examination of the truth was so frightening that the contradictions threatened to break him.”
