
In preparation for the Katabasis upcoming release from the same author, R. F. Kuang, I started reading Babel, or The Necessity of Violence. It is a very long title and I shall refer to the book only as Babel.
This was my very first Dark Academia read, and I’m not usually a big fan of historical fiction either—so you might think I’m not the right audience for Babel. But here’s the thing: ever since I moved to the UK, Oxford has held a kind of magic for me. The first time I visited, I actually cried from awe. Romantic? Maybe. Pathetic? Possibly. But real, all the same.
Oxford is where my love of reading began—sparked by the children’s book Endymion Spring. It’s where Tolkien spent most of his life, where I once stumbled across a statue of Philip Pullman surrounded by daemons in the Botanical Gardens, and where even the covered market feels enchanted, watched over by Alice, a hurried rabbit, and a slightly tilted teapot. With that kind of backdrop, how could I not be drawn into Kuang’s Oxford, no matter the genre?

So in the end, I actually think I was the perfect audience for this book. I went into it knowing almost nothing—no reviews, no spoilers, just the sense that it was everywhere. Walk into any Waterstones and you’ll spot Babel right away, sitting proudly on one of those little tables near the entrance. That’s all I knew before picking it up.
(That said, I have done a lot more reading since, and I’m already highly anticipating Katabasis, the author’s upcoming release. I’ve even pre-ordered it, so you can expect a review of that one soon!)
Because I started Babel without any expectations, every twist and theme came as a genuine surprise.
I try to keep this a non-spoiler review, but I will still introduce the book’s subject and characters and discuss my opinions on it, so skip the next section if you feel uncomfortable with this.
Babel Book Review – What are my thoughts?
I’ll start by saying that Babel is as much a book of historical fantasy as it is a political commentary—a very adamant one, at that. It tackles colonialism, capitalism, cultural appropriation, racism, and, not least of all, the necessary use of violence in such circumstances. But this doesn’t hit you immediately. The book is character-centric, which is always a good thing, and it features a marvelous plotline and one of my favorite settings. Sometimes, however, I felt like the side characters are dragged by the plot and not the other way around.
We are introduced to Robin Swift (a name he chose for himself in the Western world) as he is rescued from Canton, China by a mysterious man who will train him for life at Oxford. Robin grows up largely devoid of sympathy or love, though he is well cared for. Once at Oxford, he discovers empathy, understanding, and even love within his cohort, as he is no longer the only foreigner around. And what do they all do at Oxford? They are training to become translators for the world’s largest institute of translation: Babel.
Robin’s group of friends is notably diverse—an oddity in 1800s Oxford. The only place you’d find such a mixed cohort is at the translation institute. Why? That’s something the book explores deeply.
An act of translation is always an act of betrayal.
Here, we’re introduced to the book’s unique magic system. My mother used to tell me that words can sometimes hurt worse than sword wounds. Kuang seems to have taken that literally, creating a magic system based on translation—or rather, the meaning lost in translation.

As an emigrant myself, moving from Romania to the UK, I understand the struggle of expressing oneself in a different language. Frustration often doesn’t come from lack of knowledge, but from the absence of proper translations. Kuang turns this struggle into an intricate magic system: whatever is “lost in translation” manifests as literal magic.
Language in Babel is also weaponized. The book explores how taking from another nation what makes it unique can have powerful consequences down the line. At its core, this is a story about the importance of preserving language and cultural identity.
Translation means doing violence upon the original, means warping and distorting it for foreign, unintended eyes.
Politics are unavoidable here, and the book makes them front and center. The plot, the characters, and even the organizations involved are deeply political. The story deals with repression, misrepresentation, colonialism, cultural appropriation, and, most importantly, revolt and revolution. The subtitle, “The Necessity of Violence,” makes the stakes clear: how can “some nobodies” challenge the oppressive systems everyone else accepts as normal? This is where the book truly shines: it makes big ideas accessible to a wide audience (I found it on the “Teens Fantasy” shelf in a bookstore, of all places).
Unfortunately, some readers—myself included—might find this bluntness a bit much. Sometimes, the book “says too much and shows too little.” The atrocities faced by the Chinese during the Opium Wars are described, but rarely experienced firsthand by the reader. Our main characters are privileged and mostly living dreamlike lives, so some of the later actions feel a bit unearned. Often, we’re told about events rather than shown them, which makes parts of the story feel slightly underdeveloped.
Characters
Robin starts off repressed but grows throughout the book. He is well-rounded, and the story centers on his perspective. However, his transformations can feel abrupt, driving him to make decisions with huge consequences, but I do think this is because he was written so he feels oppressed and caged. He constantly wants to break free, and when under pressure, he can sometimes explode. He’s a very strong lead. We see inside his head most of the time, and he keeps us hooked during the entire story.
Side characters, however, are less fleshed out. Many exist primarily to make a point or to challenge Robin’s ideas. While they have some actions assigned to them, they rarely evolve, change their opinions, or show internal growth. For me, these characters were the weaker aspect of the book. That said, the story itself remains fascinating and engaging.
Final Thoughts
Babel is an interesting and accessible book with big ideas. It doesn’t bother with subtlety, but it’s a highly enjoyable read, thanks to the setting, pacing, and plot twists. It starts as a slow burn, but quickly escalates into an uncontrollable blaze.
If you want to immerse yourself in a fictional world of academic coziness, English scones, dark libraries, and the high stone walls of Oxford, this book is for you.
Have you read Babel? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!

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