Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is the kind of book that made me want to sit in the library of a haunted, gothic mansion. It’s a book deserving of a leather armchair, a cup of strong tea, a burning candle, and a healthy amount of cobwebs.
My favorite part of the book by far is the rich atmosphere that Clarke is able to build through well-crafted faux academia – complete with footnotes expanding the lore. This style reminded me of Good Omens, which also makes good use of footnotes to build out the mythos of the story without directly interrupting the narrative. The world-building in Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is incredibly detailed. The unnamed narrator regularly inserts their own opinions and personality, allowing the reader to engage with these observations as a layer on top of the story itself. All of this amounts to a unique read with lots of character.
While this story does lean heavily into the dark academia aesthetic, this isn’t a purely romanticized version of the genre. Clarke emphasizes the many flaws of academia, especially as it would have been in this old-fashioned era. Infighting and competition among the magicians constantly lead to knowledge being inaccessible, progress coming to a halt, and a disproportionate barrier to entry for women and other minorities.
My earlier comparison to Good Omens comes with the caveat that Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is missing the whimsy and high action that made Good Omens a quick read despite the detours. While the intricate world-building, quirky characters, and mysterious atmosphere are all in its favor, the pacing is all wrong. This book is its own worst enemy. The meandering plot reads more like a series of vignettes rather than one continuous arc. Combined with the already intimidating length, that makes this book a beast to finish. I found it frustrating how long the main characters were in the dark about the central conflict of the story. While it's clear to the reader that Arabella has been kidnapped, the reader must watch Strange grieve her for another hundred (+?) pages before realizing what's happened.
I did enjoy the ending- it was satisfying to see all of the elements of the story finally converge. Some might be sad to see Strange and Arabella apart for the foreseeable future, but to me, it felt apt to me that Strange would remain with Norrell. These two rivals learning to tolerate and respect each other, bound by their love of magic over any of their many differences, is the heart of the book. Both Strange and Norrell and deeply flawed characters, but they are at their best when they are working together. While this ending felt inevitable for Strange & Norrell, I was extremely relieved that Arabella, Lady Pole, and Stephen also made it out alive. I enjoyed how the prophecy was fulfilled with Stephen as a king on his own terms.
I wish I could give this book a higher rating because it did so much so well, but ultimately my enjoyment was too impacted by the density and pacing. That said, I would be very interested to read more of Clarke's work since I appreciated the voice and overall themes.
Circe is an engaging retelling that pays homage to the style of the myths while effortlessly pulling in modern themes of feminism, individualism, and humanity.
This book is much more of a character study than the mythical adventure I was hoping for. While I didn’t specifically dislike this book, I found myself constantly waiting for ~something~ to happen. By the time I understood that the author’s vision for the book was simply different from my expectations, this feeling of unsatisfied anticipation had already impacted my reading experience pretty heavily.
Despite spanning a long period of time, the pacing is quite slow. This is largely due to the focus on Circe’s emotional turmoil and processing of the major events, rather than a driving plot that moves the story forward. Most of the action from the original myth happens off of the page, and we instead see Circe as she is left processing her complex emotions in the wake of these events.
Miller does a great job capturing Circe’s age- her character development over time is natural and clear. Circe's behavior and motivations change as she moves through distinct eras of her life. We see her as a timid child, a vengeful young woman, and a fiercely protective mother. While Circe is a compelling character, she isn't always likable, and her actions often left me frustrated (especially having prior knowledge of the myths and knowing how her choices would come back to haunt her).
Ultimately, Circe reconciles these different parts of herself and reconnects with her own humanity. I appreciated that Miller left some ambiguity around the ending. Whether or not Circe is successful at becoming mortal is unimportant. Rather, her perception of herself, of the life that she wants and deserves, is the central theme.
I would recommend this book to readers who enjoyed The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, as both of these stories center emotional journeys amidst a fantastical setting. If you are looking for a more action-packed fantasy story, this may not be the book for you.