Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke

Here’s the thing about Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell; I should have, by all rights and all Amazon reviews, loved this book.

Instead, I trudged to page 156 and stopped. I checked, just to be sure, and I’ve been waiting to pick up again at Chapter 17 — for over a year now.

I have the hardback book with the plain black front with white letters, not pictured above, unfortunately. (This is an editorial quandry; do I use the available picture from booksellers, or should I photograph the individual specimens from my library? I suspect I should do the former in all cases, and the latter when it is relevant, but I digress.)

This book is not a small book, and my wife thoughtfully inscribed a note celebrating this on the front cover:

To my beloved,
who likes big books.
Love, Merrystar
Christmas 2004

This is true. I like big books. I love the feel of them, the weight of them, and because I often read like a madman in a hurry, big books are the only way I can stretch out the pleasure of a new book over several nights. However, I don’t like big books per se; I like what I like, and I like it when it lasts a long time.

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, unfortunately, is just a big book that has been on my nightstand for a year and a half that just never hooked me.

I, like many readers, have a hundred-page rule. It’s a rule observed in passing instead of as an imperative; if I am not hooked within the first 100 pages, I will not finish the book. If I get past the first 100 pages, I’ll finish — and usually like it, with some exceptions (cough, A Game of Thrones, cough.)

(I think, coincidentally enough, that David Eddings was the first author who I heard talk about this rule. I have since heard many other people observe the same behavior.)

This rule is flexible, of course. Sometimes I’ll stall out by page 200, sometimes I throw the book across the room on page 5. But the hundred-page rule is pretty accurate, as these things go.

This book was praised on Amazon, it had many elements that I should have enjoyed (Victoriana, magic, strong writing), and I barely made it past 150 pages. Since this is a big book, I’ve barely scratched the surface. This book may be as fantastic as the reviews say, but I wouldn’t know.

Perhaps — if it escapes one of our periodic purges and doesn’t get sent to a used bookstore for a more appreciative owner — I will give Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell another try in a few years. Some books just have to come into your life at the right place and time; this may be one of them.

Then again, this may be a book that I just can’t get into, and that’s all there is to say about it.

While I make up my mind on the matter, I will leave the book jacket folded in between pages 156 and 157, just to remind me that the hundred-page rule was invoked.