This book is long – 1006 pages in my copy – and I’m not going to hide the fact that it took me a long time to read it. Together they will throw parliament and the country into chaos with their rivalries, successes and failures, agreements and disagreements, and all other kinds of antics. Then, his soon to be apprentice, Jonathan Strange – a restless, equally irrational but slightly more amiable magician. Enter first Mr Norrell, a grumpy, jealous irrational man who hoards books like a dragon does treasure, and is determined to bring magic back to respectable English society… at some point, after he’s finished reading this book. It is all but lost, having deteriorated since the time of the mystical Raven King, who once ruled over the north of England, and all magicians are merely respectable theoretical magicians, who wouldn’t possibly attempt to do any magic themselves. Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell imagines an 18 th century England in which magic exists, but as something people did once, long ago, like pagan rituals and mammoth-hunting. Her novel feels unduly classical and nostalgic and yet timeless at the very same time and it has, at the heart of it, that thing which every truly great novel needs: a brilliant story. With all of the whimsy, spark and imagination of Harry Potter and the dry, well-observed wit of Neil Gaiman, Susanna Clark perfectly conveys all that can be brilliant about British literature and manages to be refreshingly different from either.
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