It’s a good problem to have when my biggest criticism is “I wish it were longer”. And I deeply, deeply do - not only to explore the House  that is God, but to simply have more time with Piranesi before the plot hits hard, the resolution of which never truly lived up to the conceit. Borgesian is an easy analogy; I found “Piranesi” more abjectly beautiful and celebratory in capital-m Mystery, with the caveat that the epistolary form doesn’t work as well when the action and dialogue pick up in the second half. Sad, contemplative, yet affirming. The last sentence is a gutpunch.