Strange and Norrell

As an academic, I’m used to reading dense material, all non-fiction of course. I very rarely read dense fiction, nor did I think I would enjoy it. My strategy reading fiction is to try and finish it in one go, if possible. However, the tome that is Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell was worth the slow savor. It builds slowly but surely to its climactic resolution yet maintains a certain mystery throughout from beginning to end. It’s also about magic.

The author, Susanna Clarke, has chosen what seems like a pseudo-nineteenth century voice for her novel. It includes some seemingly archaic words and spelling, and it also includes footnotes, perhaps harkening to a Jane Austen novel. But it also has a decidedly modern feel. The juxtaposition gives the story a sense of being both foreign yet familiar at the same time. A perturbation, perhaps, in the world we are used to.

The story opens during the Napoleonic wars at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Magic seems to have largely disappeared from Western Europe, although much of the story takes place in England. Magic used to be much more commonplace in medieval times, so it is said, and many books pay homage to tales of magic and a shadowy powerful magician-king of yesteryear known as the Raven King.

While stories about magic abound, it is much more difficult to find books that teach one how to perform magic. Such books have been hoarded slowly over the years by England’s foremost reclusive magician, Mr Norrell. There is a wider society of magicians composed of aristocratic gentlemen, but they are theoretical magicians; their knowledge is mainly about the history of magic – who did what, when, and sometimes how, although the mechanics of magic lack detail. None of these aristocrats can actually work magic. On the other hand, practical magicians of the day are scorned as lower-class hucksters, mainly performing sleight-of-hand and trickery, but without true magical ability. The reclusive Mr. Norrell seems to be the only true magician in England, but he scorns all others. There’s an air of protecting the secrets of magic, following the traditions of the alchemists of old.

In this world, magic can be difficult to perform. Spells are arcane. Looking up books in the library is a common activity for the magician. It’s all very academic. There’s a lot of studying involved. A new magical journal is started; its main use is political – a way to advance one’s views over and against opposing views. As to how exactly magic works, descriptions are sparse, but there are interesting hints – bits and pieces, so to speak, akin to florilegia. This comes up explicitly when Mr Norrell discusses a summoning spell he has devised and written down: “I have made some amendments. I have omitted the florilegium which you copied word for word from Omskirk. I have, as you know, no opinion of florilegia in general and this one seems particularly nonsensical. I have added an epitome of preservation and deliverance, and a skimmer of supplication…”

There’s an intriguing footnote on this: “Florilegium, epitome and skimmer are all terms for parts of spells. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries fairies in England were fond of adding to their magic, exhortation to random collections of Christian saints. Fairies were baffled by Christian doctrine, but were greatly attracted to saints, whom they saw as powerful magical beings whose patronage it was useful to have. These exhortations were called florilegia (lit. cullings or gatherings of flowers) and fairies taught them to their Christian masters. When the Protestant religion took hold in England and saints fell out of favour, florilegia degenerated into meaningless collections of magical words and bits of other spells, thrown in by the magician in the hope that some of them might take effect.”

The footnotes are fun to read. Susanna Clarke employs them differently than Mary Roach, but they’re great to read all the same.

I’m not going to reveal who Jonathan Strange is, and I’ve tried to avoid anything that would give away the plot(s). Although there sounds like a parallel between Clarke’s book and the Bartimaeus series (by Jonathan Stroud), both set in a parallel nineteenth century England that contains magic, they are very different (magical) beasts. As to which is the better novel, my vote clearly goes to Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell.