Two years and seven months that Ophelia has been moping on her Anima ark.
Today she must act, exploit what she has learned from reading the Book of Farouk and the snippets of information divulged by God.
Under a false identity, Ophelia joins Babel, a cosmopolitan ark and jewel of modernity. Will her reading skills be enough to thwart the traps of ever more formidable opponents?
Does she have any chance of finding Thorn?
With The Memory of Babel, I had the impression of finding a familiar universe, but from a totally new angle. Ophélie, two years after the events of the Citacielle, seemed to me transformed: more mature, more determined, but still fragile behind her glasses and her clumsy gestures. It is this duality in her that continues to touch me, this ability to remain faithful to who she is while seeking to surpass herself.
The scenery changes, and what a scenery! Babel, a majestic city, governed by its strict laws and its obsession with control, offers a striking contrast to the arches already visited. His tricks, his technology, his illusions and his harsh rules fascinated me as much as they oppressed me. This place is beautiful, but you can feel that behind this smooth beauty, something is creaking. I loved the feeling of wonder mixed with worry, as if every stone could hide a secret.
The plot becomes more political, more complex, and sometimes a little slow, but I think it's this rhythm that allows us to appreciate the evolution of Ophelia and the richness of Babel. We are surprised by the details, by the discoveries, and by these mysterious threads that continue to link Ophelia's destiny to that of Thorn. Their relationship, always made up of silences and misunderstandings, becomes even more poignant, and I have often felt this bittersweet tension that makes you want to turn the pages just to see them find each other.
This volume gave me the feeling of a transition, almost of a breath before the final storm. There is less raw action than in the second book, but more reflection, more construction, more promise. And this impression that we are approaching something colossal.
When I closed The Memory of Babel, I felt a form of nostalgia mixed with a burning impatience: the nostalgia of having left Babel, this fascinating and disturbing city, and the impatience to discover what Christelle Dabos has in store for us next. A more composed volume, but of an incredible richness, which confirms how unique and precious the saga of the Mirror Pass remains.
Have you read it?
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