Babel: What is the cost of a rebellion?

Robin Swift is the protagonist of our story. He is the hero, the 'chosen one', plucked right up from a wretched life and placed on the path that will lead him to the front lines.

We explore the alternate reality of Britain, we are transported to, through his eyes, being privy to his innermost thoughts and desires. Yet, until the very end, we never quite have the privilege of learning his real name, his Chinese name.

It was the first thing his mysterious benefactor, Richard Lovell, took from him after bringing him to London because "no Englishman can pronounce that."

This act would only be the beginning of Robin Swift's descent into an identity crisis that would constantly push him between the shores of Canton, his birthplace, and The Royal Institute of Translation, also known as Babel, the institute that provided him with prestige and value in the British Empire. 

A fantasy built on history and language

In the speculative fiction novel, 'Babel', written by RF Kuang, Robin Swift is the mouthpiece for the Orient, a representation of the oppressed, and ultimately becomes the voice of resistance. 

The story follows Robin Swift, whose family is tragically taken by Cholera. As Robin lies waiting for the sickness to take him too, Lovell comes to save him, curing him with an enchanted silver bar.

Lovell takes in Robin but at a cost. He must study translation at Babel and earn a position in silver-working, a magical system that uses enchanted silver bars to manifest the meaning lost in translation between languages. Torn between loyalty to his new home and solidarity with anti-colonial resistance, he must confront the violent consequences of empire and the cost of revolution. 

Found family in fragmented identities

The only way Robin is able to survive and navigate this new life is because of his friends, and his found family—Ramy, Victoire, and Letty. What makes this group of characters intriguing are their differences, all representing the different types of experiences, and oftentimes the different ways they face discrimination.

Letty being a white woman is always paired with Victoire, a Haitian girl. Despite both being girls, their experiences of sexism and discrimination are vastly different. 

For instance, Victoire is often ignored, and even mistaken as a servant at social gatherings. However, both of the girls have to dress like boys at the beginning of the term, as per the institute's instructions, so that they don't "distract" the boys. 

Similarly, Robin is half Chinese and half English which allows him to enter spaces and conversations that only allow the elite (and white) to enter. This becomes solidified when Robin receives an invitation from one of the institute's elites, Pendennis. 

Once Robin receives the invitation, his eagerness to embrace the whiteness, to not remain as the "other", becomes even more pronounced. Upon receiving the invitation, Robin ponders the implications of a life in an elite circle: "He wanted Pendennis's life, not so much for its material pleasures,— but for what it represented: the assurance that one would always be welcome in England." 

"He would no longer be the foreigner, second-guessing his pronunciation at every turn, but a native whose belonging could not possibly be questioned or revoked." 

Ramy, on the other hand, is an Indian Muslim who could never pass as white, and his white surroundings make sure of it. However, from a young age, Ramy learns to be agreeable, and able to pick up mannerisms and culture in a fraction of a second. However, his mimicry is a means to survival in contrast to Robin's desire for acceptance.

At one point, Ramy even reminisces about the lessons his father gave him on how to survive: "Hide, Ramiz. Show the world what they want; contort yourself into the image they want to see because seizing control of the story is how you, in turn, control them. Hide your faith, hide your prayers, for Allah will still know your heart."

Academia versus action

The novel's complete title, 'Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution' leaves readers with a better understanding of its thesis. The story is intentionally placed in a highly competitive academic setting, where theory and grades trump all else. 

The students live far detached from reality. Perhaps the closest they have come to seeing reality is when farmers and labourers go to their campus to protest the loss of jobs, displaced by the rise of silver-work.

The setting of the story and the students' detachment from the rest of the world pose an important question—how far can research, policies and meetings of academics around a large round table take us? Can knowledge, nurtured in the right environment, bring about groundbreaking change, avoiding the violence and death of brutal uprisings? 

As ideal as it would be for that to be the truth, the writer addresses this in one brief paragraph.

"Victory is not assured. Victory may be in the portents, but it must be urged there by violence, by suffering, by martyrs, by blood," writes Kuang. "Victory is a game of inches, of historical contingencies where everything goes right because they have made it go right."

However, the novel itself ends abruptly and vaguely, it does not give the reader a tangible answer to the question. The absence of an answer is perhaps an elaboration of the writer's answer: Victory is not assured because the world is still suffering from different iterations of these issues we've seen since the beginning of time. The answer will remain unclear as long as these problems exist. 

The novel uses the fantasy genre to make all these concepts accessible to the mainstream. However, they are not integrated seamlessly as other novels such as 'Pachinko' by Min Jin Lee have successfully pulled off. If the author's message stood at the top of a ladder, her characters and plot sit at the bottom, fidgeting with their fingers. Though her novel is nuanced, her explorations of these multifaceted issues only scratch the surface.

Despite these criticisms, the story still managed to stick with me, refusing to let go. Perhaps it was the silence of the characters before the storm of a revolution that felt all too familiar or the resulting bloodshed for the sake of change.