Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

Very lengthy, but somehow, I couldn't stop reading. At least not after page 1500 or so. Still, I'm glad I finished it.

Unlikable characters didn't help. There goes 30h of my life!

Susanna Clarke is one of my favorite authors of all time. She has written two books. Both are undeniable masterpieces, and I do not use that word lightly: stunningly original, full of beautiful language and concepts, striking characters, striking concepts, and just extremely well-crafted, the kind of books you don’t ever want to put down until they are done. Her more recent work is a short novel, Piranesi. 16 years before, she wrote Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, a much longer work.

The setting is Enlightenment England (think Jane Austen), but an alternate-history version of England, wherein magic played a major part in its history. That history is rich and layered with different epochs and periods of decreasing virility up until the present day of when our story unfolds, in a day in which magic has now been dead for hundreds of years.

Our story begins with observing a couple of gentlemen, Honeyfoot and Segundus, join a society of Yorkshire magicians, only to discover that all these supposed “magicians” do is talk about and read about magic—not one of them has every done a lick of it, not even once! When the naive Honeyfoot asks why the emperor has no clothes, he inadvertently triggers a landslide of vitriol and outrage, all masked under all sorts of pretenses that we all know are just plain rubbish concealing the fact that these men are not magicians at all.

This scene is executed very comedically and sets the tone for the novel. For indeed, a lot of what makes this novel so good is the portrayals of Victorian nobility and their silliness, just as if you were reading Dostoevsky or Jane Austen. It can be quite funny.

Only, you also have all this magic. One could simply describe this book as “magical Jane Austen” and not be far off from the truth.

The book primarily follows the rise of Mr. Norrell for a while, and then later Jonathan Strange, who become the two great magicians of a new age of magic. Norrell first comes on the scene, showing up all the York magicians by showing up and doing the first bit of real, documented magic that has been seen in England for a long time. (He set a bet with them that required that, upon him doing the magic, they would all have to recuse themselves as magicians).

Norrell sets out with the goal of re-establishing English magic and making it respectable again, but because he’s such a pedantic, bookish stickler of a little man, he struggles to gain traction. He really isn’t your typical hero at all; indeed he’s very unheroic, cowardly, and sometimes spiteful, although utterly remorseful and conciliatory the next moment, like a child. He is more to be pitied and chuckled at than anything.

And yet, for the first part of the book, he is a compelling main character to follow because you see him triumph over such crippling inner problems. You really root for him and rejoice with him as he makes progress. But it’s later in the book that the negative side of his character becomes more at play, and in contrast we become more drawn to Jonathan Strange, who becomes the protagonist for the rest of the book.

One of the most frustrating thing about Norrell is how he sets out to control magic. First, he buys up all actual books of magic and prevents anyone else in the whole country from getting their hands on them. He locks them all up in his library that he never lets anyone into. Second, he sets out constantly to discredit anyone else who claims to be a magician and make it abundantly clear that he is England’s only magician. Despite being able to accomplish this though, he is so insecure and anxious that he can never stop being paranoid of others, and these worries and doubts are preyed upon by others, most notable the two sycophants Drawlight and Lousells that attach themselves to him to “help” him manage his affairs with regards to all interactions with the rest of high society—which admittedly, he does need a great deal of help with, being (at the outset of our story) completely unknown to society, and on top of that, being very socially inept.

In contrast to Norrell, Strange does not start off as such an extremely bookish person. He’s a jack of all trades, master at none, wandering aimlessly in life as only the rich can afford to do. But by the end of the book he becomes such a strong character; these could really be called a coming-of-age story for Strange in a sense, only the whole book happens while he is an adult. At the onset he’s technically an adult; mentally more of a child.

But by the end he’s all grown up, has gone on many adventures, starting with the discovery of magic, being pupiled by Norrell, going away to fight the war in Portugal and use magic to defeat Napoleon, come home to Norrell again, and then finally gets himself out from under the thumb of Norrell, who becomes more and more controlling. After some time, Strange actually starts a whole new magical school of thought in contrast to Norrell; they each have their followings in newspapers and such; Strange publishes a book; Norrell magically makes all of its copies disappear; it’s great stuff. Strange also develops a lot of depth when he loses his wife. And as he goes deeper into magical dimensions that Norrell had forbidden him to, he finds out some amazing things and these also transform him in strange ways.

The plot is multi-layered. A big part of Strange’s arc has to do with losing his wife to magical bewitchment; he thinks for a long time that she has died when in reality a wicked fairy has spirited her away as revenge against Strange.

This wicked fairy, known only as The Man With the Thistledown Hair, factors very large in the overall plot of the whole book; he is an ancient, deeply narcissistic person (sometimes comedically so) bent on self-aggrandizement, paranoia and revenge. He factors into helping Norrell do one of his earliest most important pieces of magic (important in the sense of establishing his career in the public view) that involved saving a lady’s life…little does anyone understand though that in order to save her life, Norrell made a deal with the devil—I mean the man with the Thistledown hair—that means he now has a hold over her soul. This hold looks like an enchantment whereby every night she is transported to some far away place and dances al night till she is a walking zombie, always exhausted.

This enchantment factors large in the main plot, which is hard to talk about without spoiling things, but let us just say that the wicked fairy has designs for killing the king of England and putting in his place one Stephen Black.

Stephen Black is one of my favorite characters in this whole thing. He is a black slave, very well known for his value as a servant. He’s one of those highly intelligent and considerate souls, a really good-hearted person, but one who is nevertheless under the yoke of slavery. He bears it with the meekest compliance: what else is he to do?

But the irony is that the Thistledown man takes a real liking to Stephen. So you have perhaps the most spiteful character I have ever read about constantly talking about killing everyone or doing awful torturous things, all for Stephen’s “benefit” (or his own), and poor Stephen, the kind of person who would never hurt a fly, is mortified, and constantly trying to figure out how to avert crisis and talk the wicked fairy out of killing people all the time, which is no mean task. It’s really a very entertaining dynamic they have.

Arabella, Jonathan Strange’s wife, is an important character as well, although she is a nuanced character who it is hard to succinctly describe. And, also, there is a host of many other characters who I won’t take the time to enumerate but suffice it to say: this book is full of very strikingly painted characters of all kinds, from rogues to villains to the petty to the noble, people of absolutely every kind, and the book is just so damn funny when describing them. Susanna Clarke is just a master of characterization.

Books feature very heavily. And references to different magicians and their spells. And “English sensibility.” And magic, esp. teleportation through mirrors, scrying through water, and many other things. There is a whole world of magic that Susanna has invented, a Tolkien-esque feat of worldbuilding. The whole history that you get gradually exposed to feels so real and alive and nuanced and detailed. I love it.

A particular historical figure factors very large into the plot as well, and that is the Raven King. Long ago, England has a king who was the most powerful magician of all history. He ruled several kingdoms in Fairy as well as England, and did such a tremendous amount of things it can scarcely be believed. As time goes on, you learn gradually more of his biography, and there is a payoff toward the end of the book.

It’s hard to convey just how many really awesome moments there are in this book, how many moments that feel just right, how many amazing novelties that intrigue, or beautiful concepts that all alone are worth the price of admission. There is a great concept in this book that in order to really do magic, one must have a touch of madness to them. I feel like there are analogies of this to many things in life, and it’s just a beautiful poetic detail of worldbuilding, again.

There’s also some of the most poetic, fitting endings for several of the characters. I love the ending of this book. Very satisfying.

I feel as if I have told you many things “about” the book but still conveyed nothing of how amazing it is to read it. Words really fall short. I will say that although the book is long, my attention never wavered, it really is always very intriguing and fun, a real relief to read something this well-written in comparison to most stuff out there. It’s just head and shoulders above the rest, and I can’t wait to re-read it again and again throughout the years.

What a singular thing. I love to see this novel as an alternate founding of fantasy as a genre right next to Tolkien. Also: as much as I hate when someone says something like that: if you don't like the beginning, power through the first 150 pages or so. For me it was absolutely worth it.

This book is truly delightful. Written in the Victorian style Jude the Obscure or the novels of the Austen's, without falling into the trap of just simplistically spoofing the genre ala Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Not just the use of language, but also the pacing, characterization, narrative structure, and over-arching themes are carefully chosen to help maintain the illusion of a period; the author's careful research of and familiarity with the time period and its literature is apparent. Even the art has the appropriate period 'feel'. Fans of epic fantasy may be a little dissatisfied as it is consequently lacking some of the tropes they may be looking for (I.e. No systematized magic, no clear heroes journey, etc.), and besides fans of Victorian lit, fans of some of the more 'naturalistic' fantasy from before the turn of the century, especially where it sometimes crosses over with the weird fiction genre (some of the authors Lovecraft discusses in Supernatural Horror in Literature for example) will probably also really enjoy this book. If your not looking for a slow building, character driven, mystical story, I would avoid this, as I can see it being a long slog for those looking for more action.

I really wanted to like this, given all of the good reviews. I tried the written book, I tried the audio book. There was a review that said it got better about 8 hours in. I just couldn't make it - there were interesting moments, but it felt like a chore to keep trying to come back to this book.

I don't write many reviews, but this book demands recognition beyond a mere sprinkling of stars.

Susanna Clarke has deftly woven an alternative English history from raw materials with which we're all familiar. The result is a textured backdrop against which her story can play. And does it play! Her characters large and small have depths, incongruities and humour that give them a life of their own. The plot, like a medieval bridge, is strongly buttressed against human foible at one end and the entropy of "normal life" at the other, allowing it rise in a gravity-defying arch that seems all too slender for the weighty moral issues it supports.

Having read the book, I shall watch the television adaptation again. And then I'll look forward to re-reading the book in a year or so when the glorious particoloured undergrowth of detail has dimmed sufficiently for me to enjoy it all again.

I didn't finish it... It's just taking way too long to get started. I love the narrator's voice but please give me a reason to keep going in this slow paced, numbing story...

Unbearable, boring, pretentious. When I have to force myself to read even a few pages from a book, it means I'm not enjoying it at all. That has been happening for the last months with this unswallowable brick.

The thing I regret the most, is having left aside so many other books I wanted to read, because I'm used to read only one book at a time.

I guess I'll just watch the TV series, just out of curiosity. I hope it's more enjoyable than this book.

Pero qué maravilla de libro.

No, en serio. Es impresionante. Plasma a la perfección una atmósfera victoriana y enlaza con ella un complejísimo mundo de magia. Las notas a pie de página le dan un trasfondo aún más profundo a la historia. Los personajes se desarrollan durante la historia, cambiando constantemente de opinión, cometiendo errores y comportándose a veces de manera despreciable: en una palabra, siendo humanos.

Dicen que el libro es muy aburrido (el autor [a:Brandon Sanderson|38550|Brandon Sanderson|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1394044556p2/38550.jpg] lo definía como "el mejor libro aburrido que me he leído"). Para mí, aburrido no ha sido. Denso puede que sí. El libro tiene una acción que se desarrolla lentísima, a un paso muy pausado. Eso hace que la primera mitad del libro se pueda hacer pesada al lector cuando no entiende del todo los acontecimientos que le están contando ni la repercusión que van a tener en el resto de la historia. Pero en la segunda mitad del libro... Esa acción lenta es una maravilla. El clímax se desarrolla de forma increíblemente pausada durante páginas y páginas, consiguiendo mantenerte expectante y deseando saber el final sin alargarse innecesariamente en ningún momento. Del 75% en adelante la historia te tiene en un vilo absoluto.

Lo dicho. Una jodida maravilla.

PD: El vloguero filólogo Vanfunfun tiene un vídeo en el que resume en diez minutos sus opiniones sobre Jonathan Strante & Mr. Norrel. Lo recomiendo mucho para quien quiera más información sobre qué esperarse con el libro.