Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell: A Novel (2004)

Book on CD performed by Simon Prebble
3.5****

From the book jacket: In the year 1806, with the Napoleonic Wars raging on land and sea, most people believe magic to be long dead in England--until the reclusive Mr Norrell reveals his powers, and becomes a celebrity overnight. Soon, another practicing magician comes forth: the young, handsome, and daring Jonathan Strange. He becomes Norrell's student, and they join forces in the war against France. But Strange is increasingly drawn to the wildest, most perilous forms of magic, straining his partnership with Norrell, and putting at risk everything else he holds dear.

My Reactions
Fantasy is really not my thing, but I did enjoy this book. I liked the play / counter play between the two magicians, and particularly enjoyed the scenes where they are influencing the Napoleonic Wars ... an armada of ghost ships made of rain! Or moving an entire city to the United States! I also really liked the subplot involving Stephen.

I thought Clarke did a fine job of creating this magical world, peopled with a host of interesting characters. Her writing is very atmospheric and I could almost hear the eerie strains of music at a ball, or the caw of ravens.

That being said, however, this was just way too long. I found my mind wandering as much as the plot did. And by hour 29 (out of 36 hours of audio) I was ready for it to culminate.

I certainly understand the popularity of the novel, but as I said at the beginning, it's really not my thing, and I wouldn't go out of my way to read another novel by Clarke.

I listened to the audio ... I think I would listen to Simon Prebble read his grocery list! He does a marvelous job. 5***** for his performance. ( )

Every once in a while I chance upon a book that I wish would never end. At 700+ pages, some might be forgiven for thinking this never *would* end. Some stories, however, require sufficient time and space to spread themselves out, and this is just such a tale.

The premise of this “alternate reality” text is that magic once existed in Britain: that in millennia gone by, a human boy raised by fairies, John Uskglass, ruled over the northern portions of Britain and worked in tandem with lesser wizards and the island’s human kings to protect and secure its boundaries. Over time, however, Usglass has disappeared and magic become a thing to be studied by scholars rather than actually practiced.

Fast-forward to 1806 where, in the expansive library of an ancient old house in even more ancient York, a rather peevish little scholar named Mr. Norrell has rediscovered the art of practical magic. Alas, his jealous nature seems destined to assure that no one else will ever replicate his feats … until a scattered but likeable young gentleman, Jonathan Strange, discovers himself to possess similar powers. Much of the rest of the novel derives its suspense from the growing conflict between their fundamentally different approaches toward magic: Norrell’s scholarly approach vs. Strange’s organic approach. Which path promises to lead to the ultimate goal: the re-establishment of British magic? (Before you ask – yes, this works as a metaphor for all sorts of things, including British history writ large, which has always been about the precarious balance between the rule of law and the individualism of its people.)

This conflict is captured in the form of a more literal plotline, in which Norrell inadvertently summons a faerie, “The Gentleman with the Thistledown Hair,” who proceeds to engage in all sorts of complicating amorality, first taking captive the wife of a British minister (Lady Pole), then this gentleman’s African-American slave (Stephen), and finally Strange’s own wife Arabella. Strange’s efforts to free his wife entangle him in a magic feud that alters Britain forever.

But of course there’s so much more going on here than can be captured in so simple a summary. For, much like a stroll along the King’s Roads (magical roads that run between mirrors), this seemingly simple tale is always wandering off in unexpected directions, presenting us here with gently satirical portraits of British society (a la Austen) and then there with portraits of the ghastliness of war (a la Tolstoy); here with whimsical, entirely invented magical anecdotes from British history (a la T.H. White), and then there with sudden cameos by actual historical giants – The Duke of Wellington, Lord Byron, King George III (a la George MacDonald); here with themes and symbols evocative of genuine mythology (a la Tolkein), and then there with subtle asides that later reveal themselves as powerfully illuminating metaphors (Tolkein again). All wrapped up in Clarke’s deft prose and wonderfully evocative descriptions, especially of the increasingly transparent boundary between the real world and the world of faerie.

Simultaneously witty and yet dark, whimsical yet sober, gentle yet brutal, simple yet nuanced, imaginative and yet grounded in authentic history and mythology, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is one of those works of imagination that seem, on occasion, to emerge fully-formed from our collective imagination to become the ur-text of genres to come. A little rushed at the end (seriously, if you’re already 700 pages invested, what’s another 300 pages to do the thing right?), but, taken as a whole, a magnificent and magnificently original work of imaginative fiction. ( )

Such charming prose! Such a long book!

I couldn't help but love it. Turns of phrase of such dry British wit sparkle on every page. Whole passages practically flutter off the page with truly credible whimsy and warmth. The real magic in this story of magicians is in the prose. But by god it's long. Way too long. The plot sputters and konks out several times over. Kinda who cares because it's nice that this safe, charming experience goes on and on, but it sure keeps the book from realizing its potential. Suzanna Clarke has found her world but not her story? There's also a deep love of Britishness that is at times endearing and at times scary. The whole book seems to be about the nature of England, and England's true soul seems to involve almost Christ-high levels of import and supernatural what not. It's a real love song but with a super curious absense of anything remotely PG. That should tell you how charming the prose can be because nearly 800 pages without some adult theme-age is 785 pages too many. She can see the magic so well it must be there. Too bad about its chasteness.

This is the sort of book that seems like it could only exist in your imagination, but which one day appeared on the bookshelves of shops and libraries with no introduction, yet acted as if it had been there all along. I found the cover and spine so striking and the title suggested so much and nothing at all to me. In 2006 I actually got 600 pages in but stopped reading for reasons that had nothing to do with the story. (I had stopped reading altogether.) Though my sister's book, it sat on my shelf for eight years, and last week I finally picked it up again and it was largely new to me (certain scenarios had been forgotten--I can't describe how anxious I was to know what the gentleman with the thistle-down hair took from Lady Pole), and my appreciation is yet higher than what it was when I was sixteen. I've read more Jane Austen and been more immersed in the world of fusty scholarship and spent a ridiculous amount of my time in grad school thinking about masculinity and Englishness and what they are (or, more precisely, aren't).

There's so much to adore in this book. Morally ambiguous characters who really aren't as important or talented as they believe they are. The personal-dislike-meets-obsession that Norrell and Strange have for each other. The fact that so much time passes between events, even when the events are ultimately connected. The fact that it takes our protagonists so long to work out what is going on. How ordinary magic becomes to civilians and politicians in London. And, as much as anything, the craft of Clarke's writing, which is really a marvel and continually blew me away.

I know that it can't be recommended to everyone because you've got to be a patient reader, but I kept reading a hundred pages at a time and couldn't put it down or think of anything else during the entire period I read it. I kept doubting that this book really existed because it was precisely everything I wanted and that is never otherwise allowed to happen. ( )

Ooof, I loved this one. The story was excellent, the characters were fabulously drawn (even the one I loved to hate, I felt kindly toward in the end), and although quite chunky, I was still so sad to see it end. A bit in love with Jonathan Strange, now, of course, and not ashamed to admit it. I highly recommend this one. ( )