I want to tell you about my (probably) favourite read of 2026 so far…
Katabasis by R.F. Kuang
katabasis /kəˈtabəsɪs/
noun (rare): (in classical mythology and literature) a descent into the underworld.
Firstly, not that we should judge a book by its cover… but Katabasis is stunning, and I just had to have it. This definitely added to the allure of exploring something different and very gently dipping my toe into the fantasy genre.
There are a hundred ways to reflect on and write about this book; for now, I’ve explored the themes that reflect my own path and scratch the itch in my budding psychologist brain. Plus, I got an A* in English Literature at GCSE and I’m pretty sure I’m just great at overthinking. That bodes well for exploring the meaning of every line in the AQA Anthology, speculating as to why the man’s hat was blue (probably because he’s sad, right?)
The book tells the story of Alice and Peter’s expedition through Hell to bring back their unfortunately banished professor. It combines beautiful worldbuilding with philosophical and moral musings (I’d be lying if I said I could get my head around all of them) and a tiny dash of romance. What makes that journey important though isn’t really the “rescue mission” at all. It’s what the descent forces them to confront. The further Alice and Peter go, the less it feels like they’re chasing a person and more like they’re desperately circling their motivations: ambition, validation, the need to prove themselves. By the time they realise, they’re so deep that the only option is to keep going.
I’ve learned that when we go through change, or journeys to something better, we encounter this ghastly ‘middle.’ Going back isn’t an option because you’ve come too far, but going forward feels unbearable. You feel that in Katabasis. Alice and Peter contemplate turning around… but they keep going and return with a very different success to the one they were chasing.
Maybe we’re drawn to these stories not (just) because they’re dark, but because they offer us something almost comforting: that going through something difficult, even something that feels like a personal underworld, might mean we come back with something worth having.