This magnificent history of English magic (oh how I wished there really was one) is truly magical, albeit long, the book by itself as it was written, and also because of the very detailed footnotes that the author included (they are fascinating though, and worth the read). Set in 19th century England, the book is as much the story of the ultimate magician John Uskglass, the King Raven, as it is the story of the rivaling practical magicians Mr. Norrell and Jonathan Strange. The magic is dark and grandiose, but in a quiet sort of way, the telling very imaginative, beautifully descriptive and mesmerizing.
'Some years ago there was in the city of York a society of magicians. They met upon the third Wednesday of every month and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.'(opening lines)
'Mr. Segundus wished to know, he said, why modern magicians were unable to work the magic they wrote about. In short, he wished to know why there was no more magic done in England.'(4)
'Mr. Norrell determined to establish himself in London with all possible haste. "You must get me a house, Childermass," he said. "Get me a house that says to those that visit it that magic is a respectable profession -- no less than Law and a great deal more so than Medicine."'(40)
"But really a magician has need of so few tools. I will tell you a little trick, my lord, the more apparatus a magician carries about with him -- coloured powders, stuffed cats, magical hats and so forth -- the greater the fraud you will eventually discover him to be!"(108)
"Two magicians shall appear in England..."
A sort of exclamation broke from Mr. Norrell, an exclamation that began as a cry and ended as a soft, unhappy sigh.
"The first shall fear me; the second shall long to behold me;
The first shall be governed by thieves and murderers; the second shall conspire at his own destruction;
The first shall bury his heart in a dark wood beneath the snow, yet still feel its ache;
The second shall see his dearest possession in his enemy's hand..."(123)
'Curiously, no one noticed that the strange malady that afflicts her ladyship was to a precision the same as that which afflicted Stephen Black. He too complained of feeling tired and cold, and on the rare occasions that either of them said anything, they both spoke in a low, exhausted manner.'(169)
"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."(304)
'Fairies do not make a strong distinction between the animate and the inanimate. They believe that stones, doors, trees, fire, clouds and so forth all have souls and desires, and are either masculine or feminine. Perhaps this explains the extraordinary sympathy for madness which fairies exhibit.'(365)
'English magic, said Mr Strange, had grown up upon English soil and had in a sense been nurtured by English rain. Mr Strange said that in meddling with English weather, we meddled with England, and in meddling with England, we risked destroying the very foundation of English magic.'(384)
'In the end is it not futile to try and follow the course of a quarrel between husband and wife? Such a conversation is sure to meander more than any other. It draws in tributary arguments and grievances from years before -- all quite incomprehensible to any but the two people they concern most nearly. Neither party is ever proved right or wrong in such a case, or it they are, what does it signify?'(398)
"Without the blessing of health and reason, riches and beauty are worthless indeed!"(427)
'Houses, like people, are apt to become rather eccentric if left too much on their own; this house was the architectural equivalent of an old gentleman in a worn dressing-gown and torn slippers, who got up and went to bed at odd times of day, and who kept up a continual conversation with friends no one else could see.'(452-453)
'It may be laid down as a general rule that if a man begins to sing, no one will take notice of his song except his fellow human beings. This is true even if his son is surpassingly beautiful. Other men may be in raptures at his skill, but the rest of creation is, by and large, unmoved. Perhaps a cat or a dog may look at him; his horse, if it is an exceptionally intelligent beast, may pause in cropping the grass, but that is the extent of it. But when the fairy sang, the whole world listened to him.'(469)
'It is the contention of Mr. Norrell of Hanover-square that everything belonging to John Uskglass must be shaken out of modern magic, as one would shake moths and dust out of an old coat. What does he imagine he will have left. If you get rid of John Uskglass you will be left holding the empty air.'(493)
'In his weakened state Childermass had been thinking aloud. He had meant to say that if what he had seen was true, then everything that Strange and Norrell had ever done was child's play and magic was a much stanger and more terrifying thing than any of them had thought of. Strange and Norrell had been merely throwing paper darts about a parlour, while real magic soared and swooped and twisted on great wings in a limitless sky far, far above them.'(512)
"Such nonsense! declared Dr. Greysteel. "Whoever heard of cats doing anything useful?"
"Except for staring at one in a supercilious manner," said Strange. "That has a sort of moral usefulness, I suppose, in making one feel uncomfortable and encouraging sober reflections upon one's imperfections."(587)
"Now I know very little of English magicians. They have always seemed to me parcel of dull, dusty old men -- except for John Uskglass. He is quite another matter! The magician who tamed the otherlanders! The only magician to defeat Death! The magicians whom Lucifer himself was forced to treat as an equal!"(639-640)
'Chauntlucet: a mysterious and ancient spell which encourages the moon to sing. The song the moon knows is apparently very beautiful and can cure leprosy or madness in any who hear it.'(footnote 4, page 695)
"This house is built upon the King's land, with stones from the King's abbey. a river runs by it -- not more than two hundred yards from this room; that river has often borne the King in his royal barge upon its waters. In my kitchen-garden are a pear-tree and an apple-tree -- the direct descendants of some pips spat out by the King when he sat one summer's evening in the Abbot's garden. Let the old abbey stones be our envoy; let the river be our path; let next year's apples and pears from these trees be our handsel. Then we may name him simply 'The King'. These stones, this river, those trees know none other!"(745)
'...and everything changed. The sun came out from behind a cloud; it shone through the winter trees; hundreds of small, bright patches of sunlight appeared. The world became a kind of puzzle or labyrinth. It was like the superstition which says one must not walk upon lines between flag stones -- or the strange magic called the Doncaster Squares which is performed upon a board like a chessboard. Suddenly everything had meaning.'(763)
Bloomsbury Publishing First US Edition 2004
782 pages
Book borrowed from the library
Book qualifies for: 100+ Reading Challenge
PERSONAL NOTE: Sorry for the mishap on my inadvertently posting the wrong one. If you are here for my one year anniversary post, it was a premature Ooooops. But a year already indeed... in a month this blog is one year old.
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