One of my favourite books of recent years is "Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell" by Suzanna Clarke.
It's a marvellous and weighty book - really weighty - and carries the air of the grand Victorian tale, such as anything by Bronte or Dickens or, more recently, The Quincunx by Charles Palliser. It was published in 2005, took ten years to write and stretches to 800 pages in length.
The story tells of two duelling magicians, set in the early 1800s, but covers politics, romance, relationships, war, Faeries, hell, monarchy and other things - all with a delightful dry humour, and immersive characterization.
I saw a Strange Horizons review of her beautifully bound companion short-story collection "The Ladies of Grace Adieu" yesterday, which I'm looking forward to diving in to soon. It is set in the same mythology as the main novel.
One thing that struck me in the generally favourable review was the following allegation about Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell
"(It was) peppered with tangential footnotes and asides, it always seemed to be straining into the border-spaces of its own narrative. This was partly because of Clarke's desire to create a full mythology for her magically awakened England, but was also symptomatic of her interest in the marginal and the hidden, in the characters and events obscured by greatness."
I find this very interesting.
Anyone who has read JS&MN will know it does contain an inordinate amount of sub notation, practically every line offers itself up for a tangent and comment, and Clarke should be lauded for trying to create as full a world as possible. Yet this idea that it "straining into the border spaces of it's own narrative", seems both a little unfair yet accurate.
What sets this world apart from Middle Earth?
It was never levelled at Tolkein that he was straining into any border-space, his mythology was a vast crucible within which even Lord of the Rings was just a notable collection of adventurous threads.
The answer of course is volume. Tolkein developed not just a mythology but an entire legendarium. Apart from eight fully fledged novels, he wrote innumerable short stories and children's tales, all of which server to further flesh out the reality of his mythos. These stories serve as possibly the most complete archive of context still yet seen in fiction.
Suzanna Clark says she will return to the two duelling magicians once she feels ready, but that "We don’t talk at the moment"
I hope she does, and continues to flesh out the beautiful settings, times and landscapes she has started so impressively.
Can anyone ever top Tolkein for back story?
Perhaps, but it will take the length of a career and a life dedicated to come close.
I took "straining into the border-spaces of its own narrative" as a positive rather than negative statement. As if it is bursting out. But that is probably as I like this kind of thing. The source book for the APB game is about 100 pages and I'd say only 10% made it into the game.
ReplyDeleteReading back, perhaps it's not written as a criticism, it's just the use of the word "straining" conjures up an effort beyond which is naturally achievable.
ReplyDeleteI like this also, and drank up every footnote eagerly. Perhaps the real achievement in mythos creation would be coming across a fact or circumstance that the reader knows is cross referenced in another source, obviously impossible for a first book.
I'd like to see Clarke follow up and delve headlong into exploring this universe she has so capably laid the foundations for. Without extra work the footnotes will remain forever just that, an illusion of history without historical creation.
All in all though a brilliant effort, ten years of love inside those covers.