Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is Susanna Clarke’s first novel, published originally in 2004. It’s a long book, clocking in at over 1000 pages in the paperback edition I read, and it tells a story that ranges from late 1806 through 1807, including the end of the Napoleonic Wars.
The book is about the restoration of English magic, but it’s not what you might think after I’ve mentioned the Napoleonic Wars and English magic in such close proximity. It’s also not what you would expect from a book whose title is just the names of two characters. Instead of a lively friendship or a bitter rivalry, we get something a bit more layered.
The first part of the story focuses on Mr Norrell, a practicing magician who makes fools of a large number of so-called theoretical magicians at the beginning of the book. Norrell’s plan is to restore English magic, but instead of standing on the shoulders of giants, his method seems to be to make himself England’s only magician, and then to rebuild the magic himself.
Later in the story, Jonathan Strange takes the reins and a peculiar thing happens. Even though he is connected with Norrell professionally for a good chunk of the story, Norrell seems to recede into the background and almost disappear. I got the distinct feeling that Clarke had become bored with Norrell, and considering how she describes him, as the sort of person who answers a simple question with a long, dry historical lecture, there’s a part of me that doesn’t blame her.
However, when Norrell takes a hand in the action a few times later in the book, I think my understanding of his motivations and possible sympathy suffers because the point of view isn’t passed back to him in order to get his perspective. It would have been more interesting to see his actions close up; whether he was responsible, or tricked, or repentant would have at least added some more color to my perception of him.
The book is well-written, carrying that somewhat long-winded style of a semi-scholarly work from the early 1800s. The tone is dry and lightly humorous. Think of P.G. Wodehouse and make him stuffier. Every character interaction seems to be draped in a numbing layer of politeness.
There were two points about the style that somewhat bugged me. First, Clarke tries to write the entire book in an imitation of the 1800s-era archaic vocabulary, but she brings along enough inconsistencies that it felt more like an affectation than a real understanding of that time’s writing. The most prominent example is the use of “headach” instead of “headache,” but failing to convert “heartache” to “heartach” (early 1800s) or “heart-ach” (late 1700s). I found it annoying to see that inconsistency in two words that happen to be on the same page of some editions of Samuel Johnson’s Dictionary. There are a few other examples that mildly irked me through the book, but that one was the most egregious.
Second, the narrator has a personality but doesn’t seem to actually be a character. Early in the book, there were moments when the narrator seemed to react personally to certain events, and it put the question in my mind: “Who is this narrator?” Unfortunately, as far as I can tell the narrator’s identity is never revealed, and I think we can rule out most of the story’s important characters as candidates.
Back to the positive, the world-building in this book is excellent. Not only do we get this fantasy story woven into historical fiction, but we get tons of footnotes and references and asides that provide us with an immense amount of background. Sometimes Clarke will simply plop an entire short story into a place to deepen the sense of completeness.
Clarke also managed to avoid the temptation to systematize her magic for the reader. Hard magic is one of those things modern fantasy writers seem to love to do badly, and I applaud any reasonable effort made to keep magic, well, magical. She manages to keep things feeling pretty consistent throughout the book, too, which is a tall order for some soft magic authors.
We also get a strange and cryptic prophecy done right. Not every line is obvious, but every line is gradually woven into the events of the story. I had quite a few “ah” moments when a new line of the prophecy would be fulfilled. It kept me wondering without being frustrating.
Aside from our two main characters, the rest of the cast is brought into the story gradually. They’re woven in skillfully and believably. When Norrell first agrees to perform magic, we meet Childermass, a strange magical lawyer. When Norrell’s success leads him to move to London, we get Lascelles and Drawlight, who hope to introduce him to the right circles and gain notoriety for themselves along the way. Norrell needs a lord to help him get work from the government, so therefore we meet Sir Walter Pole. Pole has some of his own problems, and that’s how his wife is introduced.
And so on.
The story covers ten years, and it proceeds at a leisurely pace. Elements of the plot are developed slowly and subtly, sometimes being hinted once and allowed to simmer for a hundred pages or so. There were a few elements of the plot that I found seriously intriguing, such as Norrell’s first spell, the nature of one particular enchantment in the story, and Childermass and his tarot cards. All this leads up to a rather climactic final 200 pages or so, where the story moved from leisurely to engaging.
Altogether, it’s a solid fantasy story that is a very relaxing read. The dry humor never overstays its welcome. I recommend it to readers of fantasy who enjoy or at least tolerate slow pacing.
And if you’d like more spoilers, check the spoiler section of the embedded video above.
If this sounds like it’s up your alley, grab a copy here.
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