Throwback Thursday: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke

“Can a magician kill a man by magic?” Lord Wellington asked Strange.
Strange frowned. He seemed to dislike the question. “I suppose a magician might,” he admitted, “but a gentleman never could.”

Ironically, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke is the exact reverse of this contemplation. It is the downhill path that a magician’s ambition must inevitably take him. If you are looking for a finger-biting adventure into the hearts of men, look no further.

The book is based on an alternative history of England, when magicians once used to rule the land. The most illustrious of these was John Uskglass, or the Raven King. For some unknown reason, Raven King wrapped up his Faerie courts one day and vanished. With him, magic disappeared from England for centuries.

Norrell & Strange:

But now, Mr. Norrell has ambitions of practising magic again. In fact, Norrell, reclusive and rather insecure, wants to become the single greatest magician in the world. In his quest for power, he uses some dark faerie magic to bring back to life the dead wife of the British Prime Minister. This sets off a series of unfortunate events that form the backbone of this story.

The other protagonist is Jonathan Strange. Strange becomes Norrell’s apprentice – a feat of no ordinary measure — and assists him in magical research. Things take an ugly turn when Strange begins to supersede his master in the practice of magic and becomes a national war hero against Napoleon at Waterloo. Jealous Norrell can’t tolerate this, or the fact that Strange wants to make magic available to every commoner in England.

The Rift in Ideologies:

The inevitable must happen. England’s only two magicians – former master and pupil— split up. Clarke shows us how similar rifts in ideologies in the real world are equally disastrous, and how more often than not, they are simply clashes of personalities, not principles. This split is another benchmark of the story. Clarke shows the complicated relationship between Norrell and Strange. They relied on each other, now they resort to all manner of methods to denounce the other.

The increasing animosity increases Strange’s recklessness to get ahead in magical prowess. Like a good servant and bad master, magic too begins to mess with the wizard’s mind. Once his wife Arabella dies —or so he thinks— Strange literally gives in to the dark side (with disastrous consequences). What’s to stop him? In one horrifying scene, he brews a potion from the entrails of a mad woman’s mouse:

It was like plunging beneath a waterfall or having two thousand trumpets sound in one's ear. Everything he thought before, everything he knew, everything he had been was swept away in a great flood of confused emotion and sensation. The world was made again in flame-like colours that were impossible to bear. It was shot through with new fears, new desires, new hatreds. He was surrounded by great presences. Some had wicked mouths full of teeth and huge, burning eyes. There was a thing like a horribly crippled spider that reared up beside him. It was full of malice. He had something in his mouth and the taste of it was unspeakable. Unable to think, unable to know, he found from God-knows-where the presence of mind to spit it out. Someone screamed . . .

Humor & Plot Twists:

Susanna Clarke’s dry wit is what makes the book a true delight. It is subtle and understated and therefore, sometimes, can be missed. Oh, but it is wicked, wicked humor, and when not missed, will simply make you peal with laughter. There are adorable footnotes too throughout the book, to add in a lost fable or forgotten anecdote. Consider the scene where the melodramatic poet Lord Byron is chatting with one of Strange’s friends:

A lovely young Italian girl passed by. Byron tilted his head to a very odd angle, half-closed his eyes and composed his features to suggest that he was about to expire from chronic indigestion. Dr Greysteel could only suppose that he was treating the young woman to the Byronic profile and the Byronic expression.

Clarke also excels at the crafty twist-in-the-story. Some events make no sense in the beginning, but by the end, Clarke interconnects them so deftly, that your ‘aha!’ moment is literally like a lightbulb. Or a lightning jolt, and yet so perfect and simply right, that you want to thank Clarke for meeting your expectations so well. To this book goes the prize for the Most Startling and Best Done Conclusion ever.

Final Thoughts:

Admittedly, the book has a slow start because those first few chapters are about the theory of magic, and Norrell and his odious behavior. But if you’ll just wait till Chapter 3 (magic number!), you’ll be rewarded. The ending is indefinite but hopeful, and just as it should be. With final thoughts from the Raven King himself:

... I came to them out of mists and rain; I came to them in dreams at midnight;
I came to them in a flock of ravens that filled a northern sky at dawn;
When they thought themselves safe, I came to them in a cry that broke the silence of a winter wood ...