Margaret Atwood took to Twitter on Wednesday to share a new story as part of Twitter Fiction.
You can read her contribution here.
Margaret Atwood took to Twitter on Wednesday to share a new story as part of Twitter Fiction.
You can read her contribution here.
These few chapters aren’t at all action-packed. Instead, they are heavy on character development. We learn that while Mr. Norrell is, ostensibly, a cautious man, he might better described as much given to ambivalence, procrastination, and general indecision in nearly all matters.
The Subject of Magic
Although Sir Walter Pole anticipates a battle in the cabinet, he finds that the other Ministers are eager to make use of Norrell in the war with France. Unfortunately, they just don’t quite know how, and Norrell himself isn’t particularly helpful in guiding them towards a solution. Instead, he seems far more adept at pointing out obstacles to the Ministers’ plans, and he refuses to raise anyone else from the dead. Fortunately, he is able to dissuade the Ministers from requesting further resurrections by pointing out that bodies who have been dead for some years would be very unpleasant company. This back and forth continues for some weeks in the fall of 1807.
Finally, Norrell and the Ministers agree on a course of action. We learn this, however, not from the point of view of any of our English friends, but in a chapter told from the point of view of their French opponents. This is a very clever decision on the part of Susanna Clarke, and it’s a welcome diversion at this point in the book.
At the port of Brest in Brittany, a squadron of French ships is preparing to leave on a mission to harry the English when they find themselves trapped in the bay by a fleet of English ships that don’t seem to do any of the things that normal ships do. For eleven days, the French wait for the English to remove this blockade, only to see the ships melting as Norrell’s spell wears off.
The Hero of the French Blockade
After the success of his rain ships, Norrell finds himself in high demand, and he is able to summon visions of English ships in a basin of water–not to much real use, but much to the gratification of the military men he is now spending time with constantly. His next major feat of magic is to animate the mermaid figurehead on a captured French ship, and she is soon persuaded to give as much intelligence to the English as she is capable of. The story of the mermaid is funny, and I’m really hoping that it isn’t considered too insignificant to be included in the BBC adaption of the book. I will be very disappointed if I don’t get to see a very cantankerous, very French mermaid in the show.
Norrell’s Two Friends
As Norrell’s popularity increases, Drawlight and Lascelles take it upon themselves to manage his numerous engagements. With the intention of enhancing their own situations, they make themselves indispensable to Norrell, and they begin encouraging him to write for publication. Since Norrell is the only real magician in England, they reason, the public will be very eager to learn his opinions on all things magical.
Though Norrell finds himself unequal to the task of actually completing any piece of writing himself, he is soon introduced to one Lord Portishead, an ex-magician himself of the theoretical persuasion who has abandoned his own studies upon learning that Norrell disapproves of theoretical magicians. Under Norrell’s meticulous guidance and overseen by Lascelles, Lord Portishead publishes the periodical The Friends of English Magic, primarily filled with Norrell’s attacks upon, well, all magicians who are not Mr. Norrell.
I’ve never been a fan of Super anything, to be honest. I think it’s one of the most absurd stories in all of comics history.
Supergirl looks like it could be really good, though, and it’s definitely added to my to-watch list for this fall.
These two chapters introduce a significant character and reintroduce us to one of my favorite characters in the book, Lady Pole (née Wintertowne). Norrell makes, well, not his first mistake, but perhaps his first truly disastrous one.
No One There
The association of a sort of mysterious absence with Miss Wintertowne continues when Mr. Norrell arrives at her deathbed, a motif that will continue throughout the book. I’m never quite certain if I find this motif to be more hilarious or more unsettling, but it certainly adds a Gothic flavor to all of our interactions with the young lady.
Having finally persuaded Mr. Norrell to do some actual magic, Drawlight finds himself barred from the room where all the interesting things are happening. However, he and Lascelles both hang around insufferably (albeit humorously) awful. I always find myself reassured by their presence, much the way I feel about Mr. Collins when I reread Pride and Prejudice. Some characters just have an unholy knack for saying and doing absurdly terrible/stupid things, and I never get tired of reading about them.
The Gentleman With Thistle-down Hair
To raise a person from the dead is not the sort of magic Norrell would like to do. Indeed, it is not a human sort of magic at all, so he, reluctantly, and with reservations, summons a fairy to do his bidding.
The gentleman that he summons wears a coat “of the brightest green imaginable,” an enormous amount of white hair, and a penchant for hard bargaining. This gentleman offers to help and aid Mr. Norrell in all things magical, but on the condition that Norrell credits him with the greater parts of all Norrell’s future achievements, and somehow I only just now realized that this stipulation is what Norrell finds off-putting enough to refuse the fairy’s offer. For all Mr. Norrell’s professed distaste for fairies and his tut-tutting about the dangers they present, I’m now quite certain that it’s not Norrell’s scruples, but his pride which makes a fairy servant so abhorrent to him.
The Other One
Thus refused, the gentleman asks Norrell where “the other one” is, meaning the other magician, Norrell’s “dearest friend,” with “red hair and a long nose” and “very conceited.” Norrell, of course, knows no other magician aside from himself, but this sets him to frantically considering all the men of his acquaintance who might fit this description. None do, so a bewildered Norrell instead turns back to bargaining with the fairy.
Half a Life
Reasoning that fairies are not to be trusted, and so he must be very careful in his negotiations, Norrell requests that Miss Wintertowne be given another seventy-five years to live, half of which to be spent with the gentleman–“half a life is better than none,” after all. To seal the deal, the gentleman requires a token of the lady’s, and so Miss Wintertowne is miraculously returned to life–less only the little finger of her left hand.
Miss Wintertowne’s Hand
With her daughter returned, Mrs. Wintertowne is keen that the marriage to Sir Walter Pole should continue as planned. Sir Walter, for his part, barely knows what to do with his young bride, who seems not only returned to life, but returned to a kind of vigorous health and brightness that she’s never experienced before. Fortunately for Sir Walter, Miss Wintertowne is still amenable to the marriage, and she very shortly becomes Lady Pole. On the wedding day, however, the person everyone most wants to see is Mr. Norrell.
I’ve really enjoyed Sarah Maas’s Throne of Glass series so far, but I know that series is a planned six books so I wasn’t expecting anything else new by her anytime soon. I’ve also been really cutting back on the amount of attention I pay to YA stuff this year in order to focus on some more literary genre work, so A Court of Thorns and Roses managed to slip under my radar until just a few weeks before it was published. Well, I sure am glad I didn’t miss it entirely, because it’s really excellent.
I am a huge fan of reimagined fairy tales and “Beauty and the Beast” is one of my favorites to see retold because it’s a great romantic story with some pretty high stakes that make for wonderful drama. Combining “Beauty and the Beast” with “Tam Lin” only raises the stakes higher, and it creates an opportunity for there to be a truly heroic heroine. It’s an awesome concept, and Sarah Maas does not disappoint.
I’ve really gone off of first person narratives recently, but Feyre is a delight. She’s not the normal bookish Beauty (as popularized by Disney) that seems to have made an appearance in every “Beauty and the Beast” retelling of the last twenty years. Maas’s rejection of this pretty much ubiquitous trope may strike some readers as a little too on the nose, but I found it refreshing. Feyre is tough, resourceful, and self-reliant, but Maas gives her realistic flaws and isn’t afraid to let her heroine make mistakes.
Feyre’s love interest, Tamlin, is much more two-dimensional, a little too perfect, but I think it works for this book. I found myself rolling my eyes occasionally as he and Feyre fell in love, but what their romance lacked in emotional depth it made up for in sexiness. I would classify this book more as new adult than YA, as it does have some actual sex, with orgasms and everything. There are only a couple–sex scenes that is (there are more than a couple of orgasms–go, Feyre!)–but I thought they were nicely done and well-integrated with the rest of the story.
The supporting characters mostly worked as well, although I do have some criticisms. I loved Feyre’s sisters, especially Nesta, and I loved the evolution of Feyre’s relationship with them. Tamlin’s friend Lucien was actually more interesting to me than Tamlin himself. I liked Alis until Maas used her to deliver an enormous chunk of exposition (exposition that is contrary to literally everything that we’ve learned in the book so far) to set up the last act. Rhysand is fascinating, although I am a little concerned that Maas might be telegraphing too much of the plot of the next book in the series through him. Amarantha was definitely villainous; I loved the sequence of tasks Feyre had to face and I enjoyed the final showdown. However, I’m still not entirely sure that I understand Amarantha’s motivation.
All in all, though, I thought A Court of Thorns and Roses was a smart, funny, sexy read. It can easily be read as a stand-alone piece, which is good since I think Maas ended Feyre and Tamlin’s story in a good place. I’m definitely looking forward to further books in the series, but I kind of hope that they will focus on other characters. Nesta in particular could easily carry her own book, and I would love to read that story.
“But nothing, I find, has prepared me for the sight of my own characters walking about.”
Read Susanna Clarke’s Guardian piece on the new adaptation of her work here.
What struck me most upon reading these few chapters for the first time in several years is that Susanna Clarke has a true gift for writing marvelously detailed and engrossing chapters that feel as if they are packed with story, even when only one thing happens in each chapter. It’s a style that may not appeal to everybody, but I find it compulsively readable.
I also continue to stand by my previous assertion that Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell’s closest literary relative is Thackeray’s Vanity Fair. Clarke’s portraits of the people that Norrell meets in London are exactly the sort of delightful caricatures that one finds in that book. Like Vanity Fair, this is also an extremely funny novel, and I found myself laughing more than once in these chapters.
The footnotes in these chapters are also must-reads. In fact, the footnotes in this book are absolutely essential to a full understanding and appreciation of Susanna Clarke’s comedic genius.
The Friends of English Magic
As Mr. Norrell prepares for his move to London, John Segundus prepares London as well as he is able for the arrival of Mr. Norrell. Segundus’s “Appeal to the Friends of English Magic,” with his description of Norrell’s feat at the York Cathedral, is a sensation, but though Segundus attempts to manage expectations by including an account of Norrell’s character, expectations are high by the time Norrell makes his way to the city.
Not in Yorkshire Anymore
Childermass makes himself useful by encouraging Mr. Norrell to accept the first invitation he receives into London society, and Mrs. Godestone’s party is a delightful illustration of the absurdity of Norrell’s situation. He knows no one aside from Childermass, and he lacks the skills to recommend himself to others, thus passing the greater part of the event in obscurity before making his first acquaintance.
Christopher Drawlight is the worst sort of dandy, which makes him my favorite sort of dandy to read about, and he takes it upon himself to introduce Mr. Norrell further into society after first mistaking the much more interesting Childermass for Norrell. They attend parties and teas and dinners and drive in the park for months before Norrell finally becomes frustrated enough with his lack of progress in his goals to suggest to Drawlight that maybe he ought to be trying to make friends in government rather than in drawing rooms. In this, Drawlight is no help, but Norrell finally remembers that he does have some connections of his own.
Magic is Not Serious
And so Norrell arranges a meeting with the politician Sir Walter Pole in the hope of offering his magic in service against the French. The problem, of course, is that Sir Walter doesn’t believe him, and in fact doesn’t see what use magic could possibly be in the war. Sir Walter goes so far as to tell Norrell that magic is simply not respectable and that he would be laughed out of Parliament for even suggesting it.
At this meeting, Norrell also meets Sir Walter’s intended bride, Miss Wintertowne, and her mother. Miss Wintertowne is very ill, but her fortune is the solution to Sir Walter’s financial woes. Mrs. Wintertowne joins Sir Walter in his censure of magic, although Miss Wintertowne argues (feebly, as she is barely able to sit up on her couch) for the importance of magicians, at least as historians. Norrell will find no help for his cause here.
After being rebuffed by Sir Walter, Norrell sinks into a deep depression that even Drawlight’s passive aggressive antics can’t pierce. A few days later, however, they get the news that Miss Wintertowne has died–and only two days before her impending marriage. This puts Mr. Norrell in the position of making his most momentous choice to date. He might have the knowledge to bring Miss Wintertowne back to life, putting Sir Walter Pole heavily in his debt and being a very public demonstration of his powers, but the manner of achieving this feat is dangerous and of a kind of magic that Mr. Norrell is loathe to use–namely, the summoning of a fairy servant to do the magical heavy lifting.