Suppose England had had a glorious history of magic and magicians;
suppose indeed that the North of England was ruled for 300
years by the mysterious Raven King, the first and greatest magician of
England’s golden age of magic. Suppose that paths to the land of Faerie
had once been commonplace throughout the English countryside.

Suppose that magic is now sadly faded, and though studied by a few,
is in actuality practiced by no one; that Napoleon is ravaging the
Continent and that only England stands against him; that the glories of
English Magic are suddenly, miraculously, about to be reborn…

…and that Jane Austen wrote a book about it all.

That, in a nutshell, is Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell.

The book was published to great acclaim; indeed, it won the 2005 Hugo
award, which is no small potatoes. It was an interesting read, and was,
indeed, novel in its subject matter and presentation; Clarke has done
the remarkable job of creating an alternate history for England that
feels plausible. I enjoyed the book, more or less.

But I fear I didn’t love it. The narration maintains an air of
detachment; and one loves none of the characters, and rather
cordially dislikes several of them. Momentous events occur (at one point
an entire city–Brussels, if I recall correctly–is transplanted to the
Great Plains of North America for a short while), but they are described
matter-of-factly, and with no fanfare.

I’m not sorry I read it; and I’m curious to see what Clarke might come up
with next. But I’m not entirely sure why it got the Hugo.