Imagine you are tasked with defining the word “fine” to a non-English speaker. How would you go about defining it? Perhaps you would label it as an emotion, a, “How are you doing today?” followed by an, “I’m fine, thank you.” It seems simple enough, but what if this word was found in a different context? We certainly would not define “fine” as an emotion when it is used to describe a grain of sand or an attractive person. You would quickly discover that each definition is dependent on the context in which it is used.
Taking this one step further, imagine you are now tasked with translating “fine” into a different language, but its context is not obvious. The situation is already complicated and you haven’t moved past the first word. This lesson is one every translator is familiar with. There’s no such thing as a perfect translation because there’s no one-to-one correspondence between words in different languages.
In R.F. Kuang’s novel “Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution,” translators are aided by magical silver bars, powered by the inexpressible meanings of words that get lost in translation and somehow make them come to life.
If you’re confused right about now, you’re not the only one. In truth, very few people know how they work. These silver bars are what power the growing empire of England in the 1800s. They’re found on every industrial appliance and mode of transportation. They make carriages run smoothly and alarm clocks sound like real roosters. Yet only a small population are granted the knowledge of how they operate and how to wield their power.
This powerful minority are aptly named babblers, after Oxford University’s Royal Institute of Translation for which they work—also known as Babel. This novel follows the tragic story of Robin Swift, an 11-year-old orphan who immigrated from Canton to London after being given a choice: either stay in his home country and eventually succumb to cholera, or devote his life to studying the art of translation.
He picked the latter and dedicated the next six years of his life to learning Greek, Latin and Mandarin so he could become a babbler. Once enrolled in university, however, Robin had the shock of this life. He discovered something so precious and foreign he quickly realized he is willing to die for it: a family. He learned what it is to love and be loved by a group of outcasts who have also been ostracized by a society who only care for the rich, white and male.
But when a disturbing secret comes to light that threatens to crumble his ideal life, Robin must decide once and for all where his allegiance lies. Does he go against the system that has provided him unimaginable luxuries, or does he revolt for the underprivileged and oppressed—for the part of him that died with his family in Canton? With a revolution on the rise, Robin soon discovers just how far he’s willing to go for those he loves—and those he doesn’t.
“Babel” has it all. In a fantastical mix of historical fiction and fantasy, with a dash of the found family trope and a whopping spoonful of tragedy, this book had me hooked from page one. Admittedly, my love for linguistics makes me a little biased, but non-linguists would have no trouble understanding and enjoying its contents as well. With the fast-approaching holiday season, this is a perfect gift to give to your bookworm loved ones who may not enjoy the popular romance or dystopian novels that saturate the market.
