There's nothing more dangerous than an unnamed thing
When the words went away, the world changed.
All meaning was lost, and every border fell. Monsters slipped from dreams to haunt the waking while ghosts wandered the land in futile reveries. Only with the rise of the committees of the named--Maps, Ghosts, Dreams, and Names--could the people stand against the terrors of the nameless wilds. They built borders around their world and within their minds, shackled ghosts and hunted monsters, and went to war against the unknown.
For one unnamed courier of the Names Committee, the task of delivering new words preserves her place in a world that fears her. But after a series of monstrous attacks on the named, she is forced to flee her committee and seek her long-lost sister. Accompanied by a patchwork ghost, a fretful monster, and a nameless animal who prowls the shadows, her search for the truth of her past opens the door to a revolutionary future--for the words she carries will reshape the world.
The Naming Song is a book of deep secrets and marvelous discoveries, strange adventures and dangerous truths. It's the story of a world locked in a battle over meaning. Most of all, it's the perfect fantasy for anyone who's ever dreamed of a stranger, freer, more magical world.
Jedediah Berry is the author of two novels, The Naming Song (Tor Books, 2024) and The Manual of Detection (Penguin Press), and a story in cards, The Family Arcana. He lives in Western Massachusetts. Together with his partner, writer Emily Houk, he runs Ninepin Press, an independent publisher of fiction, poetry, and games in unusual shapes.
The Naming Song by Jedediah Berry is a richly imagined literary fantasy that serves as a meditation on the power of names and naming.
Naming has been an integral part of fantasy literature for decades. The foundation of Ursula K. Le Guin’s magic system in Earthsea is based on the knowledge of so-called true names, which capture the language of creation and the wisdom of the creator. Le Guin’s emphasis on true names had an enormous impact on subsequent fantasy literature, such as The Naming by Alison Croggon and The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. More recently, the magical power of language is the raison d’être of R.F. Kuang’s Babel.
Reverence for language and the power of naming is as old as humanity itself, nearly ubiquitous across world religions and folklore. Creation is inexorably linked to language, as evident in the opening verse of the Gospel of John: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Moreover, early in the Book of Genesis, God endows Adam with the power of naming, allowing him to bestow names on each living creature.
With The Naming Song, Jedediah Berry constructs an entire world around this power of naming. Berry develops a complete mythology around naming, including diviners who discover or create new words and couriers who deliver those words to the populace. Diviners and couriers have a longstanding rivalry about who has the more important role. While the secretive diviners perform their work behind the locked doors of a train car, couriers must traverse all corners of the world to deliver these new words where they are most needed.
Mystery and danger in the world of The Naming Song come from the presence of unnamed things, since without words there is no meaning. Part of the problem is recognizing when something doesn’t yet have a name:
“How many times each day do we fail to see the unnamed things right in front of us? Or worse…the unnamed things lurking within. But you see them, somehow. You seek them out, take hold of them, bind them with words.”
Although The Naming Song overflows with imagination, the story never quite escapes the arbitrariness of its internal logic. The sense of danger always feels muted because the world is never truly real. Despite the undeniable beauty of Jedediah Berry’s prose, I found it difficult to form an emotional connection with the characters, who feel like actors playing a theatrical role instead of being fully realized individuals.
In summary, The Naming Song is a richly imagined world, and I applaud Jedediah Berry for his unbounded creativity. At the same time, I hoped to discover more emotional depth and complexity in the story’s dramatis personae.
This book is a masterpiece of language and ideas. It's filled to bursting with metaphor and thematic meaning without ever letting its plot buckle under the weight of them. It has so many ideas, so many things to say, and such beautiful prose to say them with. It's got the whimsy of The Night Circus and The Starless Sea but with the post-apocalyptic edge and opinions about the evils of capitalism of The Gone-Away World; it has the weirdness of The City & the City but with actual magic; it makes literal and magical what 1984 suggests about the power of language. It's thoughtful and action-filled and queer. It is wholly original and unique, and I adored it.
It may sound like damning with faint praise to talk first about the mechanistic stuff, the ways the ideas are expressed, but honestly the fact that it does those things so well is so very impressive. It's really hard to imbue a story with clear philosophical point of view without having that smack you in the face, and this does that. It is a difficult thing to seed the plot points you will use in the future without making it obvious you are doing so, and to give a story an ending that is properly satisfying. On a technical level, the prose is lyrical but never leaves me feeling adrift in an unfamiliar world: there's a lot of action and different locations, and they're all clear and fleshed-out. Despite the sheer volume of things that happen, the narrative feels continuous, not episodic.
That structural stuff is important because the ideas this book is conveying are nuanced and beautiful and weird and fun. It's a book about the ways that naming things gives them structure and boxes them in, how it limits as well as defines, and how it allows you to create an "us" and a "them" (and how delightful a send-up of fascist propaganda to have an enemy that is literally unnameable). It explores what Terry Pratchett called Narrative Causality, the ways in which the words we use to describe ourselves shape who we are. It's an extended metaphor for the process of self-exploration and the attempt to understand our thoughts by putting words to them, and it's a warning about the ways that doing so robs us of flexibility.
Lest it sound like this book is all just philosophical waffling, I note that there is so much plot. There's action and intrigue and mysteries and romantic tension, chasing and fighting, magic and whimsy. What's great is that it slides in between all those events a lot of strong ideas. I love a book with strong ideas, especially so when those ideas are anarchist and queer. This is a book that explicitly says that there was no difference between men and women until there were different names. It's hard not to read diviners and couriers arguing about which job is easier as an acknowledgement that self-exploration and coming out are equally difficult tasks. The literal burning of dreams for fuel is poignant, as is the exploitation of ancestral resources by making ghosts work in factories.
This is a book about metaphor, about how the language we use to describe ourselves shapes ourselves. Importantly, the ideas it has about that are all told in metaphor themselves. It tells a story about stories without beating you over the head with it. It is a masterpiece.
I am constantly looking for something new, that breaks away from expectations and trends, and this book was just that: wholly unique. This theater kid epic, full of intrigue and curiosity, is hard to pin down. Berry spends this one-of-a-kind novel celebrating the ability of story to shape the world we live in, and the power held in carving a story of your own. It had me mystified, pulling me through this narrative not by a need to find answers to its questions but by a joy of traversing the unknowns.
Theater kids, lovers of language, storytellers of all kinds, folks who are fans of the journey rather than the destination, I implore you to check out this dystopian literary fantasy.
Thank you so much to Jedediah and TOR for sending me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review!
The Naming Song entices you to enter a world built around the power of language. What has been named and can be controlled? How is that power of control wielded? And what goes nameless, and seeks to haunt the world? These themes swirl around scholars aboard a train dedicated to furthering knowledge, but just out of reach is an understanding of the things that have gone nameless. These scholars (who frequently feel like they might as well be wizards) live side-by-side with ghosts, coexisting almost casually. It's that blatant supernatural element that really teases you to understand how the world works, and to see what relationships the living and dead have in their world.
I received an e-ARC from the publisher in exchange for my opinion.
This was weird. Real, real, weird. And so fascinating. A book for word nerds for sure.
What if language went away? What if you looked around, and suddenly had no words for what you were seeing? How do you give meaning to your world? How do you communicate with the people around you?
Then of course, there's the monsters that spawn from people's dreams, and the ghosts that form when someone . . . oh, wait . . . is there a word for . . . you know, the body stops? But the ghost keeps on going . . .
*I am not rating books read for the World Fantasy Award.*
I'm not entirely sure how to rate this one-- it's imaginative and ambitious, which I appreciate, but also gets lost in its own dream-logic at times, often at the expense of clear answers or deep character work. I loved some individual scenes more than the experience as a whole, but I'm glad I read it. RTC.
I couldn’t get into this book. It sounded like a really interesting premise but the narrator was not for me. I wasn’t able to focus on the story due to the inflections of the teller. What I did retain wasn’t interesting enough for me to push through. Thanks to NetGalley for the chance to review.
Very complex storyline. It’s like stretching my brain and my imagination to depths I could never have conjured myself. Thus, the feeling of unfamiliarity, feeling lost and just agog most of the time but also weary and confused. It was certainly a new territory for me.
The story had a whisper of the show Snowpiercer, Garth Nix’s books and Gaiman’s (ugh) Neverwhere but stays rooted to its original plot. The world building is intense and needs all brain power to concentrate on details and characters. I could compare the experience to reading Gideon the Ninth but this book is slightly easier to grasp than the former for me.
The book’s plot giving reverence to naming things was such a novel idea to me that I was very much delighted when I started the book. However, as the plot thickens, the sense of danger, that is, the unnamed things and the nature of confusing villains, it was difficult for me to hold strong emotions other than confusion. The main character was also very difficult to pin down and form a bond, I somehow ended up feeling more for a monster who had more emotional range than the main character.
In conclusion, generally the story was very rich and complex but needs more heart.
I’d been excited about this book for months. But my listening experience was like opening up a much anticipated toy at Christmas, only to find it broken.
First, the chapters are LONG. My audiobook is broken into only four chapters. The exposition goes on and on… and on. So if you like breaks, you’ll have to make your own somewhere along the way.
Then, the story. Umm… I don’t know what to say. The potential for whimsy is there. And yet. Nothing worked for me. The writing is very much telling, not showing. The characters didn’t come alive.
The narrator does a great job with the audiobook, but none of it was holding my attention.
DNF at 16%
*I received a free audiobook download from Macmillan Audio.*
Life is too short to continue with a book in hopes that, eventually, it will get much better. I'm sure that there are some who would really get into this, but it was definitely not the book for me. DNF
"The Naming Song" by Jedediah Berry was not on my radar until BookBrowse (yet again introducing me to authors I was unaware of and adding to my ever expanding TBR list!) offered it as a First Impressions selection. I was hooked after the very first page where the unnamed Courier is introduced. She is delivering new words into this complex world by acting them out-for example, secreting herself away on a freight train boxcar to speak the word stowaway. As the narrative continues we learn that some sort of apocalyptic event occurred that wiped out all the words, and the Diviners are slowly researching the proper replacements and the Couriers are restoring them in live action scenarios. There are humans that are named, there are others that are nameless, there are monsters dreamed into being, and this is simply the most amazing, original, intricate work of fiction I have read in a long time.
This one is a keeper- it has tons of action, and thoughtful conversations that will resonate with the reader for a very long time. The lead protagonist, our Courier, is a well crafted personality faced with so many obstacles and every single one of the supporting characters is just as relevant and interesting. The reader will feel all the feels, so many emotions- sorrow and anger and moments of hope and joy and love- it is hard to put this one down.
I am not going to give any more details, no spoilers here-you need to experience this one yourself, without any preconceived notions. Suffice it to say, I could see this as a well developed, multi seasons, streaming series in the hands of the right director and actors. I will definitely be rereading this book at some point and wish that Berry would continue this saga, either by returning to the narrative of the Courier or any of the other roles his imagination has so eloquently put to the page.
frustrating for a book to be this good and this mediocre at the same time. the writing is beautiful and the world walks the line between overdetermined and overly handwaved pretty well and the premise of naming as power has potential, but I can't help holding this up to books in the same vein (a wizard of earthsea, amatka, riddley walker, even mr. burns) and finding that it falls far short. I think it can't decide if it wants to ground its word magic in something more like real theory or commit to a fleshed out magic system, and ends up doing neither in a meaningful way. which sucks. the best bits were the stories about hand and moon or something falling from the something tree; any time where berry actually showed language having power through myth, folktale, nursery rhyme, etc.
there's a beautiful moment about halfway through this book where it lets go of its philosophical aspirations (that absolutely do not have theoretical grounding) and lets itself be a really fun, quirky adventure about vaguely magic theater on a train, sort of like a more fantastical station eleven. unfortunately this also triggers a sickening slide into a kind of ya-esque saccharine nonsense where all the complex political problems fade away and the end just sort arrives. the last 50 pages are very nearly unbearable. but there were moments where the aesthetics of it all resonated in nearly the same way as something like the night circus, which is a high I've been chasing since 2011. and who doesn't love a magic train?
I struggled with this book because I actually love some fantasy, but this one was hard for me to follow. I kept wanting to put it down, but felt it was going to go somewhere that I would like. I liked his characters, but I could not figure everything out and where they landed as we progressed. I liked the ending, but I worry that I missed the point. It is almost like there was something else all of this was referring to that I forgot to check on beforehand.
Premessa molto interessante e accattivante, aveva esercitato una forte attrattiva nel mio immaginario, ma purtroppo nella pratica questo libro non è riuscito pienamente a conquistarmi. La storia è tra le più complicate e visionarie che abbia letto, ambientata in un mondo post-apocalittico privato della parola e del significato, un contesto strano ma anche affascinante, avrei adorato se fosse stata accompagnata da una scrittura più fruibile. Il problema è che la scrittura è stata (per me) molto asettica, caratterizzata da un fastidiosissimo "telling non showing" costante che mi ha fatto vivere la storia da lontano. Ho quindi trovato l’esperienza di lettura un po’ frustrante, non sono riuscita ad entrare pienamente in questo worldbuilding fantastico, non ho trovato una vera connessione con i personaggi del libro, ho vissuto la storia come se io lettrice avessi una barriera davanti a distanziarmi da tutto. Riconosco a questo libro moltissime qualità per i temi trattati (Il linguaggio come creazione del mondo e veicolo di potere/identità) e per il contesto fantasioso e dai richiami distopici in cui avviene la storia ma semplicemente è una lettura che non mi ha coinvolta e che mi ha tenuta sempre a distanza.
I fully admit I mostly bought this because of that gorgeous cover; I didn't quite know what to expect other than an eco-futuristic dystopia, a bisexual FMC and soft sapphic relationships. It was hard for me to get into this at first because it was a little more bizarro than I usually care for, and since it's a story ultimately about language and how it's formed, the descriptions could feel awkward to me. But I was taken by the story of the unnamed courier and her reluctant rebellion, and drawn in by the rich imagination of a world where people try to remember stories after they've disappeared but civilization still perserveres. A unique, abstract story filled with theater kids, storytellers, magic, ghosts and monsters made from dreams, and finding your way in a world that doesn't want you to exist.
I have read a lot of books. Seldom do I read one this uniquely brilliant. Just when I think there are no new stories or new ways to tell the old stories I find this book. Essentially perfect, or as close as possible anyway. Utterly masterful and quite unforgettable. Wow.
Wow! Just...wow! Completely different from The Manual of Detection (which I also loved). This book has some of my favorite things: a character who seems to believe in who she is, unwilling to compromise her moral code, full of determination, flawed yet also likable, an interesting premise that you don't see every day, a well-structured system, and the idea of language as something that can literally change the shape of things (or, that the shape of things can make one come up with the right language). I've always been fascinating by the connection between language/names and identity and this book explores this aspect in a unique way that keeps things interesting. I hope to see more books from Jedediah Berry in the future. He's quickly becoming one of my favorite writers.
The Naming Song is entirely confusing in the dreamiest way possible in order to examine language, names, and identity.
The power of naming and names is not new to fantasy — you might immediately think of Rumpelstiltskin where the miller's daughter turned queen holds the potential for power over her savior / adversary if she could only figure out his real name. Or, The Name of the Wind, where the power of a true name holds the ability to control that thing. But in this post-unnamed-apocalypse world where words have been lost, the slow trickle of true names and words passes along the power of who gets to name and who gets to refuse.
There's a certain undercurrent to this story that feels like it's the true power of the novel. It's a mash of knowing theater people, the freedom to try on different hats, costumes, and identities, the reclamation of your own power in refusing to accept it from others, and the joy in discovering who you are and who you aren't. Berry's writing is deeply gorgeous, infused with messages of acceptance and love, and he manages to make this feel timely and timeless — a wonderful combination for a hazy dreamlike fusion of fantasy and literary endeavors.
Whether this remains a standalone exploration or not, I will definitely be checking out Berry's next book and also make a point to check out his 2009 debut, The Manual of Detection.
This book disoriented me at first. It's original in the way one's dreams are. It holds a brand new world, it moves with a fresh rhythm. It's so incredibly fresh that it challenged my suspension of disbelief at times. I was resistant to this book's spell, because how many books achieve true fantasy originality anymore? Was this just a try hard?
Thematically, it has elements of Snowpiercer and The Giver. Maybe even Dune.
This story also calls to something completely primal. It had me thinking about the fruit of the tree of knowledge. "Whole lives played out beneath its branches. A few stood apart from the rest, and there was something strange about these few, something hungry and cruel. When the light came to them they caught it in their hands and examined it through a pane of glass." The tree creaked, gears came loose. The glass fruit fell and shattered. Is this about anti-progress following an EMP? There are never, ever any answers, but so many stories. So many possible backstories, and we are never given ANYTHING definite, but there is so, so much to think about anyway.
This story had me thinking about Creation. A named thing has certainty. It can be defined and held in the imagination. An unnamed thing is mysterious and fuzzy around the edges. God divided the heavens from the earth with a word, and before that they were just, what, one thing? We don't know, as it was never described.
In short, Wow. This novel really caught me up. I thought it might be a gimmick for a long time, and its lingering mystery is more frustrating than satisfying, but it's a RARE example of a book that could have been a whole series, but instead of exploiting readers that way provided an evolving tale that twists in ways it's impossible to expect. You've DEFINITELY never read anything quite like this before. Absolutely hypnotic.
Judging by this book's rating of more than three and a half stars, there were some readers who enjoyed it -- who possibly even were able to make sense of it. I persisted for a hundred pages, into the beginning of the second section, "The Black Square Show," where I had hope that some elucidation of the gargantuan premise might be granted. Unfortunately, we were not finished with elaboration of the riddle.
We have action. We have characters. We have conflict. We have a postapocalyptic setting with a certain amount of internal logic. We do not have a rationale.
this comes out in september and you should read it.
there’s a scene near the end that made me actually tear up, which RARELY happens to me with books. the world of this felt always a little difficult to settle into, but i loved the way it made me think about words and language and the way they shape our perception of the world. i think i was hindered somewhat by the lack of a map in the ARC—nonetheless. shades of the name of the wind and the night circus. and of course i love a story about sisters
The Naming Song by Jedediah Berry is a journey both wonderful and strange. There's really no comparing it to anything else - I've never read a book like it, and I doubt I ever will.
Berry's world jumps off the page. Berry accomplishes such unique worldbuilding, and he backs it up solidly with detail throughout the novel. The world doesn't feel flimsy, it feels lived-in and real, which is hard to do with such an out-there concept.
I just love the characters, the magic, the monsters, the journey. I can't say a single bad thing about this book, because I can't find a single flaw.
All in all, I had a great time. It didn't quite hit me emotionally on a 5-star level, so I'm leaving it at a 4.5. This book will be hard to forget!
Climb aboard the Number Twelve train to visit a land. A land of ghosts, of monsters made from dreams, of performers, of secret committees and stowaways, of stories passed down, of a battle brewing between named and nameless. A land in which a nameless courier must set out and discover the truth.
Dreamlike, imaginative and enchanting, The Naming Song is a superb meditation on the power of language, the wonder of words, the essence of storytelling.
Highly recommended.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC.
The Naming Song is literary fantasy at its finest. It’s a beautiful ode to the power of words, packed with meaning — a ballad not to be missed.
I went into this story with high hopes. As a writer, I’m a logophile. I love language and I’m fascinated by the depth that a single sentence can plunge. Words give substance and purpose and shape to our lives. So to spend time in the world of The Naming Song, where words are divined and spoken into existence, and each new word has the magical ability to literally reshape reality — it spoke to everything I love about the wonder of storytelling.
The protagonist is a speaker of words. When she’s given a new word, it’s her job to journey with it so that she can speak it at the right time. Once she’s spoken it into existence, the concept and meaning that belongs to that word will enter the world with it, and reality reforms to incorporate it — the world is literally changed with each new word that’s added to it. What a profound and stunning magic system! It’s philosophically rich and fascinating to read. I loved seeing the world build around me as new words emerged. And I especially loved how rich it felt, and how layers were progressively added as the language of the book expanded with each new spoken word.
In terms of characters, the protagonist is endearing and multi-faceted. She’s an outsider, not quite conforming to the system that keeps everything named. But there’s a reluctance about her rebellion that lends her a measure of naivety. In other words, she’s easy to root for and totally deserving of top billing. This is very much her story, and I loved seeing her grow as the journey progressed.
The plot is patiently revealed, and the book is stronger for it. This isn’t one of those novels that you tear through at breakneck speed. This is a book you want to slow down with and really absorb. One of the things that stood out to me most was the focus on atmosphere and style rather than twists and turns. You’ll vibe with it, and the lyrical and literary sensibilities of this almost-folk tale are the aspects that’ll grip you hardest and keep you reading.
As it’s divided into sections, there’s a clear progression to each part of the story that signals the main advancement of the plot. The different sections take us from life aboard a train to a travelling circus show to a race-against-time style heist, and ultimately, to a battle for the soul of the world. There are plenty of payoffs along the way, and the slow burn of its build is handsomely rewarded.
Themes are explored with elegance and fearlessness, whether that’s in a dream made real or the threat of an unnamed thing. There are some words that help you hold on, and other words that help you let go. It isn’t just in books that a simple utterance can change a world, and the way this resonates in the climax is a marvel. The ultimate twist, and the biggest change that is seen in the story — an accidental word that can never be unspoken — packs a punch with every bit of heft you’d hope for, and then some.
Sub-plots are also rich in allegory. For example, the way ghosts are used as fuel highlights the forced labours of a second class. Or the systems of control over what we’re allowed to name could represent the limits imposed on free speech by those who seek to consolidate their authority. There’s a sense of social commentary and a touching against our reality that lies hidden beneath the surface, and it’s refreshing to see such a vibrant sense of speculation in a fantasy tale. While this isn’t the focus of the narrative, it will definitely leave you thinking, whereas the main thrust of the book will leave you feeling. In this way, secondary characters form the perfect complement to primary ones, and allow for plenty of scope when it comes to the reach and ambition of this fable.
I fell in love with The Naming Song for the way it celebrates the language of our lives. Words bind us together and give shape to our futures. They give us meaning. They give us stories. They give us truth. And The Naming Song is the truest kind of fantasy there is — a book that takes the magic of words and makes it real. It is literally amazing.
• set in a fantasy world that entirely revolves around the power that names & language give to objects, people, & ideas • beautiful language & descriptions accompany the adventure the narrator must embark on • the structure of the book is as important as what the book says • if you liked ‘the starless sea,’ you’ll enjoy this one
Definitely the biggest let down of the year. like a soup made with great ingredients that ends up being bland & thin. after the first 30 pages i was getting miyazaki/phantom tollbooth/haroun & the sea of stories vibes & was ready to fully love it. the writing was great & concept of the world was so imaginative. but what i connected with ended there. the story & characters felt so thin & surface level. i would have liked it way more if it was shorter. what felt thin in almost 400 pages would have given way to an imaginative simplicity in a 200 page novel. strange to be so ready to love a story & let down so durastically. oh well! onwards moves the train. 2.5 ⭐️ rounded up.
Okay so the first half of this book was slower than molasses in winter. The character and plot development crawled painfully along. About halfway through, there was a shift towards more action and plot development. By the end of the book, I enjoyed plot and characters alike. However, because it took so very long for me to actually start ENJOYING this book, I’m going to overall give it 3 stars. If you can stick with it to the halfway point, you should be able to finish it. I allllllmost DNF’d, but I’m no quitter 😂
When words went away, the world changed. Monsters slipped from dreams while ghosts wandered the land. Only with the rise of the committees of the named could people stand against the terrors of the nameless wilds. Building borders around their world, shackling ghosts and hunting monsters, and warring against the unknown. For one unnamed courier of the Names Committee, delivering new words is her job. But after a series of attacks on the named, she's forced to flee and seek her long-lost sister. Accompanied by a patchwork ghost, a monster, a nameless animal, and words that will reshape the world.
Overall, I really enjoyed The Naming Song, I might even say I loved it! I read the book much slower paced than I usually read, but i just had to savour it as the writing, the story, and the world. They were all just so beautifully crafted. I do have some confused feelings, though, as I'm struggling to find the right words for my thoughts about this book. I found the story both fast-paced and slow paced, and I found it and the world building both confusing at and making total sense. It was truly a unique and amazing experience!
The ending was so good and definitely one of the best parts of the book and even had me crying. The characters were all great as well! Also, even though I'm confused about my overall feelings for this book, I don't think I'll ever be truly able to find the right words. i genuinely can not think of one negative thing to say about it, either. All in all, The Naming Song is definitely a book I highly recommend reading! As a lyrical fantasy It may not be for everyone, but I do think everyone should give it a chance and experience this unique book for themselves!
In un mondo devastato da un’antica apocalisse, le parole sono andate perdute. Non è solo una questione di linguaggio, ciò che non può essere nominato diventa invisibile e incomprensibile per la mente umana. Strade, oggetti, persino concetti, se senza nome, diventano invisibili, impalpabili, relegati ai margini della realtà, appena intravisti con la coda dell’occhio, ma mai davvero messi a fuoco. L’umanità sopravvive aggrappandosi a ciò che riesce ancora a nominare.
In questo fragile equilibrio esiste un gruppo di persone fondamentali, i Nominatori.
Sono coloro che, attraverso antichi rituali o divinazioni, riportano alla luce i nomi perduti e li pronunciano, donando nuova vita e visibilità alle cose. La nostra protagonista è una di loro, un’aralda. Viaggia sul Treno Dodici, un convoglio che percorre in eterno le terre nominate, consegnando le parole divinate. Ma lei è diversa.
È un’aralda senza nome, eppure parla. In un mondo dove chi è senza nome resta in silenzio, lei è un’eccezione. Consegna parole nuove: eco, guaio, whiskey, ecc.. , che il Comitato dei Nomi le affida. I membri del comitato la guardano con diffidenza, dubbiosi che lei possa essere una spia al soldo dei senza nome. Sì perché a opporsi ai Nominatori ci sono, appunto, i Senza Nome, esseri umani che rifiutano la parola parlata e comunicano esclusivamente attraverso la telepatia. Silenziosi, invisibili, ma determinati a cambiare l’ordine imposto e a volere un nuovo equilibrio.
Cit: Per trovare le parole, il suo comitato si serviva dei divinatori, chiusi nelle loro stanze silenziose, a utilizzare strumenti e metodi noti soltanto a loro. Gli araldi avevano il compito di consegnarle al mondo. I paggi del comitato quello di aggiungere le parole nuove al manifesto successivo, stamparlo e distribuirne copie in tutti i luoghi che avevano un nome.
La quotidianità dell’aralda cambia quando le viene affidato un compito delicatissimo, trovare una determinata persona all’interno del Treno Dodici, un infiltrato che passa segreti ai Senza Nome.
La sua missione la trascinerà in un viaggio incredibile, tra mostri nati dai sogni, fantasmi secolari, gruppi sovversivi, e un treno leggendario chiamato Il Quadrato Nero, un convoglio fatto di luoghi in continuo mutamento, dove gli Artisti del Racconto custodiscono e tramandano le storie perdute dell’umanità. I vagoni cambiano forma e i confini della realtà si piegano sotto il peso della fantasia. Le decisioni dell’aralda cambieranno la realtà in modo inaspettato e definitivo.
Cit: Non stiamo riscoprendo il mondo com’era prima del Silenzio. Ne stiamo creando uno nuovo mentre lo nominiamo, scegliendone la forma man mano che andiamo avanti».
Lo so, mi sono dilungata nello spiegare la trama, ma credo che ce ne sia la necessità perché è un libro con un world building innovativo e complesso. All’inizio, come un po’ in tutti i fantasy, si fa fatica ad entrare in questa realtà. Difficile immaginare un mondo senza nomi. Difficile capire che se non nomini una cosa non la puoi vedere, né utilizzare e che quando viene nominata acquisisce potere.
La scrittura è semplice, quasi asciutta. Non punta sulle emozioni forti, ma su ciò che accade, sui gesti e sui silenzi. Non ci sono scoppi di rabbia o pianti disperati, ma piuttosto una lacrima che scende piano, un volto teso dalla fatica, una voce sussurrata. Questa caratteristica lascia un po’ in sospeso l’attaccamento ai personaggi o addirittura il prendere le parti di una o dell’altra fazione.
Poi, mentre leggevo, è successa una cosa che mi ha illuminato. Ho iniziato a visualizzare la storia nel mondo Ghibli. Si perché le atmosfere, i personaggi, i mostri, i treni che viaggiano su binari vecchi, i silenzi sospesi, tutto mi ha dato l’impressione di vivere dentro quel mondo affascinante e immaginifico. L’aralda mi è piaciuta tanto, anche se a volte ho faticato a comprenderne le scelte, l’ho trovata coraggiosa e determinata.
Una lettura originale, creata da una mente sorprendente, che ha saputo vedere al di là della realtà e dar vita a un mondo nuovo sul solo uso di qualcosa di semplice come le parole. Il ritmo è piuttosto lento, quindi non aspettatevi una lettura ricca di tensione o colpi di scena continui. Tuttavia, succedono molte cose, gli eventi si susseguono uno dopo l’altro, e questo rende la lettura comunque scorrevole e coinvolgente, anche senza l’adrenalina.
Che dire, se siete amanti delle cose inaspettate, dei libri che lasciano un segno, che possono sorprendere e affascinare, questo è la lettura che fa per voi. Cover stupenda e suggestiva.
4 stelle per me La copia Arc è stata gentilmente offerta dalla Casa Editrice