At some point or another, everyone has thought of school as hell. Katabasis takes that sentiment and brings it to an entirely new level. The novel follows Alice Law and her academic rival/frenemy/crush Peter Murdoch as they journey through the changing landscape of the underworld in search of their now deceased thesis advisor. It is through this journey that they learn more about themselves, each other, and ultimately reflect on whether or not the decisions they made and continue to make are really worth the effort. Ultimately, they complete this very classic Hero’s Journey by returning home (mostly) unscathed.
Although I don’t want to give many spoilers—since many enjoy R.F. Kuang’s work and this book is very recently published—I have a multilayered critique that necessitates them for a well-rounded discussion. Starting out, there are many strengths within it, particularly in the research and geography of Hell, the layered symbols and metaphors used to convey commentary on academia, and in the deep dives into Alice’s psychology. I may be notorious for enjoying a fantasy world that is grounded in our reality — where there are rules and norms, and it is happening openly with real consequences on events throughout history. This is exactly the case with the magic of Katabasis as well as how its underworld functions. Kuang has done her research thoroughly and used many different cultures’ interpretations of Hell, blending them beautifully with vivid imagery and philosophical ideas on the nature of sin. The philosophical handrails surrounding the discussion of what it means to do good and what it means to do evil are ever-present in each circle of Hell; Kuang has presented very interesting ideas on each layer. By the end of the story, we also come to understand the many intricacies of Alice, why she is the way she is, and what forces have shaped her.
However, despite these high points, I found myself wanting while reading Katabasis as it lacks several key aspects of any great novel. The pacing of the story, as well as its own stakes, were lackluster, and often the moral commentary and the author’s wishes for a romance between Alice and Peter seemed to override or derail their actual stated goals and characterization. All of this led to an ending that felt hollow rather than triumphant. The novel’s speed lacked a real sense of urgency at any point, even though there is realistically a stark limit for how long the human characters can exist in the afterlife. The characters spend an awfully long time getting into shenanigans or deep philosophical discussions when both their own lives and possibly their professors’ life were on the line. Additionally, it felt as though Alice’s goal—which she had stated constantly in her own mind the entire time and presumably had no delusions of lying to herself—completely flipped after a particular flashback, which broke my suspension of disbelief.
Katabasis was a good casual read, but I truly expected more from R.F. Kuang, and this affected my own opinion on it heavily. The concept is fascinating, and the novel has a bit of a slow beginning, with a terribly good middle, which leaves the ending hanging with more regrets and questions than true satisfaction. I would recommend reading Katabasis if you already enjoy R.F. Kuang and are interested in her interpretation of an underworld and afterlife, but for the casual reader or fantasy enjoyer, it is not even close to a must-read.
