Part Five: Valentine Ketterley

“‘Why do you think he described the other world—the one he said he went to most often—as a labyrinth?’

Ketterley shrugged. ‘A vision cosmic grandeur, I suppose. A symbol of the mingled glory and horror of existence. No one gets out alive.”

— Susanna Clarke, Piranesi

Dear Friends,

We’re closing in on the last chapters of Piranesi by Susanna Clarke. This week we open a window into Matthew Rose Sorensen's past, and what we see is more horrible than we could have imagined. This week I had the great fun of chatting with my friend Haley Stewart about enchantment, memory, and anti-horror novels in part five. Haley is an author, podcaster, and Fellow at the Word on Fire Institute. She also joined me for an episode on last year’s book club as well! You can read more about her below.

Listen to our conversation above, and following along in the notes below. And don’t forget to chime in with your thoughts in the discussion on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook.

SPOILER WARNING:

The following analysis will have spoilers to the extent that it is necessary for discussing the chapter…

Change in Language…

Over the course of the last few weeks we’ve begun to observe a change in Matthew’s language. He has gradually begun to recognise words that correspond to the modern world, he no longer capitalises certain words that he used to, he even begins to use profanity, something which seems very unlike what we know of the man called Piranesi. In this chapter we find ourselves immersed in Matthew’s pre-Piranesi memories, and so I found the opening lines particularly important:

“I visited him in mid-November. It was just after four, a cold blue twilight. The afternoon had been stormy and the lights of the cars were pixelated by rain; the pavements collaged with we black leaves.”

There is so much to notice here. First, he is not using his unique journal dating system (“the year the Albatross came to the South-Western Halls”). Second he uses technological language to describe a natural phenomenon. Through this, we know that we are no longer in Piranesi’s mode of “original participation,” but Matthew Rose Sorensen’s dis-enchanted posture.

Memory…

It is interesting to note that Ketterley continually asserts his excellent memory. This is striking in comparison to Matthew who has clearly lost some of his memories, but not permanently, and retained some level of sanity in comparison to James Ritter who falls into an almost subhuman slump after his time in the house. What does Ketterley’s fear of losing his memory reveal about the House? Or about himself? Piranesi’s submission to the house, or his mental atunement seems to have allowed him to receive something from the house which Ketterley never can. And this seems to be connected to Ketterley’s desire to control, his fear of losing power. 

Earlier in the book Piranesi declares “And if the House has made you forget, then it has done so for good reason.” At this point we are forced to ask whether it was the kindness of the house, or the desperation of Matthew’s situation that caused him to forget. Keep this question in your mind over the following weeks…

The dark side of enchantment…

This chapter climaxes with a terrible ritual and Piranesi’s imprisonment in the labyrinth (or The House). What does this mean? Is the House and evil place? The product of witchcraft or psychological experimentation? 

To answer this question, I think we need to look to Clarke’s clear references to The Magician’s Nephew. Ketterley is clearly a reference to Andrew Ketterley, the magician who dabbles in dark magic, and accidentally trips his way into the Wood between the Worlds. Like Uncle Andrews, Ketterley is cowardly and clumsy. He doesn't understand what he is doing or the power of what he is working with. He stumbles upon something real, but he is in no way in control. And though he is loth to admit it, it frightens him.

It reminds me, in many ways, of the turn toward the occult at the turn of the century. Driven by a sense of dissatisfaction with the dry materialism of their age, but unwilling or incurious about traditional religious accounts of the supernatural, many people sought alternative means of encountering the spiritual world. C.S. Lewis even had a period of interest in Theosophy, only to abandon it after being scared off by his friend's mental breakdown after supposed demonic encounters. Barfield himself as an adherent of Anthroposophy, a very similar mode of thinking the Ketterley’s. What these had in common was a sense that one could access and control the spiritual. Of course, the outcome was either disappointing or terrifying; there is a spiritual world to encounter, but it cannot be controlled. Those who tread boldly fall.

So it is possible (probable even) that the House exists quite outside of Ketterley’s experiments; he might not have created the House, but merely found it, like Uncle Andrews.

A final note: Clarke mentions a Berlioz requiem twice. The Symphonie Fantastique, a piece about witchcraft, darkness, enchantment seems the more natural choice given the themes of the book, but no. A requiem. Death. Judgement. Hope. I think thi is fitting, foreshadowing the themes which are more fundamental that enchantment… but I can't say why without ruining the book. :) So join in on the discussion and read on!

Haley Stewart …

is a Fellow of the Word on Fire Institute. She is a homeschooling mother of four, wife to a whisky maker, co-host of The Fountains of Carrots Podcast, and the author of The Grace of Enough. She earned a BA as a University Scholar from Baylor University and lives in central Texas.

Find Haley on Twitter, Instagram, and her delightful podcast with Christy Isinger “Fountains of Carrots.”

Haley wrote a review of Piranesi for Church Life Journal, called “The Wobbly Chronology of Disenchantment” for Notre Dame’s Church Life Journal. You can read it here!