Costanza Casati’s Babylonia transports us to the 9th century BC, to the kingdom of Assyria where we meet the legendary figure of Semiramis.
The story opens in the village of Mari, where Semiramis, abandoned as a child, grows up under the harsh guardianship of Simmas, a shepherd. Subjected to cruelty and derision from her adoptive father and the villagers, Semiramis develops a steely resolve to escape her oppressive surroundings. Her chance comes when Onnes, the newly appointed governor of Eber-Nari, falls in love with her.
Their marriage catapults her into the Assyrian royal circle, where she encounters King Ninus and his formidable mother, Nisat. With her quick thinking and a bit of luck, Semiramis rises steadily in the intricate world of Assyrian politics but she also has to deal with consequences that can prove fatal.
Casati has based her story on the life of the real Assyrian queen, Sammuramat, known for her power and strength, and for being perhaps the only woman to lead a military campaign. Casati pours a heady mix of myth, history, and imagination, to immerse us in an era that’s not written about enough. I have seen plenty of historical fiction novels set in ancient Rome and Greece but this was a first for me. With lush prose and vividly constructed world the story proves to be equal parts enchanting and harrowing.
The intricate dynamics between Semiramis, Onnes, and Ninus form the heart of the novel. Casati crafts these relationships with a deft touch, showcasing the fragility, passion, and manipulation that define them. Each character is deeply flawed, brimming with vulnerabilities and desires, and it’s their shifting interplay that drives the narrative forward. Semiramis herself is particularly compelling—an ambitious, resourceful woman navigating a society that grants her limited agency. Her marriage to Onnes is both a partnership and a power play, while her connection with Ninus is fraught with attraction and competition.
Equally intriguing are the secondary characters who enhance the tapestry of the story. Nisat, the king’s mother, emerges as a formidable political player in her own right. Through, Ribat, a young slave who dreams of becoming a scribe, Casati underscores the vulnerabilities of those trapped at the bottom of the social ladder.
Casati’s writing is simply brilliant, her diamond-sharp prose standing out for its beauty and poetry. From sumptuous descriptions of palace life to gory depictions of war, the narrative and writing are transportive.
As are her characters. Semiramis is as much a warrior as she is a strategist, and her moments of self-reflection, particularly on the consequences of her actions, add depth to her character. Onnes and Ninus are also fascinatingly layered, their motivations constantly shifting and evolving, as I constantly questioned their loyalties and sympathies.
This is my first book from Casati, and I certainly need to read her much-adored Clytemenestra now.
If you’re in the mood for time travel, read this right away.