Last weekend I finished reading Erin Morgenstern's fabulous debut novel, The Night Circus. Check it out on goodreads here.
Let me start this off by saying I loved this book. While it didn't change my world and become my favourite book, I can still confidently use the word "love" in reference to it.
If you are looking for a high-action, exciting story, though, this is not the book for you.
If you are looking for beautiful descriptions, flowing through decades and imagination, then you might love this book, too.
This book is not a powerful waterfall; it is a meandering river, picking its way through the landscape at its leisure.
There are a few things to keep in mind, though, before you read this book.
You know those movies you watch and the trailer just has set you up for a completely different movie? This is kind of like that. The book flap's description made me expect a completely different book. I was more than fine with what it ended up being, but I could understand someone being disappointed if they were expecting the story the flap promised.
I had to reconsider my idea of circus. I have never been against the circus in general (though some day perhaps I will write about the reason my husband is not a fan of the circus - it's so crazy it has to be true!), but the circus in this novel is not a circus as we know it now. It is a fantastical world of black and white and splashes of red, of magical tents and elegant feats and swirling steam coming from cups of cider. Everything is immersive and sensory and nuanced and just beautiful.
There is a love story that motivates two of the characters, and those two characters may the center of the story, but they are not the story itself.
There is a very inconsistent time frame. I did have to flip back a couple times, thinking, "Wait, is this happening before or after that other thing happened?"
There are perspective changes. This did not bother me, but if you aren't used to stories with those changes, it might bother you. The characters themselves, though creative, are not the focus of the book. They are what moves the plot forward. The focus of the book is the circus itself. We get to see the characters as though we are witnessing all of it from afar, with only glimpses into individual thoughts and feelings. The mood is the focus.
But that is not the most important thing about this book.
So what is?
The writing.
Oh my God. Remember how I said this book was totally immersive? Yeah, that. Wow.
The writing is like the clock in the circus. It draws you in. You know it is lovely, even from afar. But once you get close, you see the minute details, the intricacies and subtleties in detail. Some of the characters actually stand, transfixed, staring at the clock. That is how I felt with this writing.
For an example, let's look at the clock itself:
But that is before it is wound. Before it begins to tick, the pendulum swinging steadily and evenly. Then, then it becomes something else. The changes are slow. First, the color changes in the face, shifts from white to grey, and then there are clouds that float across it, disappearing when they reach the opposite side. Meanwhile, bits of the body of the clock expand and contract, like pieces of a puzzle. As though the clock is falling apart, slowly and gracefully. All of this takes hours.
The face of the clock becomes a darker grey, and then black, with twinkling stars where the numbers had been previously. The body of the clock, which has been methodically turning itself inside out and expanding, is now entirely subtle shades of white and grey. And it is not just pieces, it is figures and objects, perfectly carved flowers and planets and tiny books with actual paper pages that turn. There is a silver dragon that curls around part of the now visible clockwork, a tiny princess in a carved tower who paces in distress, awaiting an absent prince. Teapots that pour into teacups and minuscule curls of steam that rise from them as the seconds tick. Wrapped presents open. Small cats chase small dogs. An entire game of chess is played. At the center, where a cuckoo bird would live in a more traditional timepiece, is the juggler. Dressed in harlequin style with a grey mask, he juggles shiny silver balls that correspond to each hour. As the clock chimes, another ball joins the rest until at midnight he juggles twelve balls in a complex pattern. After midnight the clock begins once more to fold in upon itself. The face lightens and the clouds return. The number of juggled balls decreases until the juggler himself vanishes.
By noon it is a clock again, and no longer a dream.
Right? Right?!?! Doesn't that just make you swoon?
There are certain sentences, certain descriptions I have read in books that make me pause, rereading the words over again, sometimes whispering them just so I can taste them on my tongue, so I can hear the cadence of each syllable.
This book was just so full of those descriptions.
I want to wander through these tents. I want that cup of cider that Bailey remembers from his childhood, and I want to wear a red scarf while I drink it. I want to marvel at Marco's books, and watch Celia perform, and have my fortune read, and explore the pathways that lead everywhere and nowhere.
This novel is not only about magic; it is magic.
Have you read The Night Circus? If you have, what did you think of it? I'd love to read your comments below!