Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - and final participation

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - which I first encountered in 2015 - has become one of just a handful of books in my life that I am almost-continually re-reading. I find it fascinating and delightful, genuinely wise and deeply witty. 

Perhaps this is because it is set in that era around 1800 when  - by my understanding of the development of Man's consciousness - a wrong path was taken. By my way of reading; Strange and Norrell sketches-out what might have happened had Englishmen begun upon the right path - that path towards Final Participation.  

The Raven King is eventually seen as the author and stage manager of the events of S&N - and the guide towards Final Participation that neither Strange nor Norrell can see. 

By 1800, Modern man was alienated (the Age of Reason/ Enlightenment) and in need of healing. Magic is participation - it is the healing of the modern rift between Man and God, Man and nature and between Man and his real, spiritual, divine self.

By contrast with the Raven King; neither Strange nor Norrell are Christian - so on those grounds alone, it can be seen that their ideas are incomplete and distorted. 

Norrell seeks what might be termed a late Medieval, scholastic answer (Steiner's Intellectual Soul) - an attempted re-integration by books and study, by quasi-scientific rituals - calmly, gentlemanly, in a way socially-acceptable. (A Temenos Academy approach!). 

He intends to exclude belif-in, and interaction-with, fairies (and the Raven King) from his magical system - and yet all the magic he does is in fact indirectly dependent on that source but in an unconscious, and indeed dishonestly denied, fashion. 

Strange yearns towards a magic (and spirituality) that is instinctive and spontaneous (unsystematic) - where Men and fairies work together, and Man is (like the fairies) so immersed in nature as to be unable fully to detach himself. 

Where Norrell is the proto-scientific, scholarly, ritual magician; Strange harks back to the Shaman (and shares the Shaman's charisma). He represents the 'Romantic reaction' - and becomes friends with Byron (with whom he shares some attributes). 

This is the yearning for that earlier developmental phase called Original Participation; which, if effective, would lead to a reversal of the conscious, autonomous, deliberately chosen mode of thinking: Men would become (more like fairies) childlike again - ultimately un-conscious. 

By his behind-the-scenes activities; the Raven King ensures that magic is restored to England; but in the process, both Strange and Norrell are removed - along with nearly all the books of magic. 

At the end of the novel; magic is more widely available than ever before; but each Man must find his own way to it. The new magicians may call themselves Strange-ites or Norrell-ites, but each magician has made that personal choice, and each must choose and navigate his own path into magic (which is participation). 

Strange and Norrell ends, therefore, is a hope-full way; with the new generation of magicians representing a start at the great task of moving towards Man's next, destined development of consciousness. Ritual magic and Shamanic magic are being left-behind; and the new magic is not given a name - but it can be recognized as essentially the exact same thing as Barfield's Final Participation; or what I term Romantic Christianity.

Christianity is always in the background of Strange and Norrell; but the hopeful ending implies a Christian faith in the resurrected life eternal, or else any 'positive' outcome would be merely therapeutic and utilitarian. 'Magic' is romanticism in S&N - specifically, the 'romantic' conscious and chosen awakening of direct and experiential Christianity; as our only possible - as well as most desirable, joyous - destiny.  

How does English Magic work in Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell?

Blogger "seriouslypleasedropit" has joined-together the textual clues, and came up with what seems like the true explanation (slightly edited):

The eponymous Mr. Norrell is a somewhat timid creature—a landed country squire, ever a bachelor, who likes nothing better than sitting in a corner reading a book, and is likely to describe anything that disturbs his study as “irregular.” Through years of study (and a near-limitless inheritance with which to buy books) he has reconstructed a system of magic which allows him to perform various feats. Norrell’s magic is effective, but wooden; he avoids risk, and is very concerned with magic’s reputation in Society, as it has hitherto been disreputable...

In contrast is the other protagonist of the book, Jonathan Strange, who, having devoured tales of the Old Magic, wants to duplicate (and improve upon!) those ancient feats, and is willing to consort with dangerous fairies to do so. ...

Mr. Norrell and Mr. Strange spend a good amount of dialogue... as they argue about what magic ought to be. Norrell wants it to be practical, controlled, systematic; Strange wants it to be wild, wondrous, and spirited. Norrell wants nothing to do with fairies; Strange knows that the greatest English magician ever, the “Raven King,” heavily consorted with them, and wants to follow in his footsteps.

The book is long, and much happens, but eventually Strange finds the secret of what magic is, at least within the world of the book: 

 “It is not so hard as we have supposed. Tell them to read what is written in the sky. Tell them to ask the rain! All of [the Raven King’]s old alliances are still in place. I am sending messengers to remind the stones and the sky and the rain of their ancient promises.”

The gist is: long ago, the Raven King, having learned from the fairies to speak to the stone, the trees, and water of England, made alliance with them on behalf of all English magicians. That was the source of the magic, and Norrell’s formulaic magic is akin to a child writing letters to distant servants in the hand of a long-dead father, thinking they are spells rather than messages.

Excellent! I would add that this also explains why, when the Raven King departed from Northern England about 1400, English magic faded and failed. The alliances he had made with the 'nature spirits' of England stopped being renewed and gradually lapsed. 

The wrong choice of Gilbert Norrell - the crucial plot point in Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

The main plot crux of Susanna Clarke's novel Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is to be found in the chapter entitled "A gentleman with thistledown hair", in which Norrell becomes the first English magician to summon a fairy and ask for his assistance for perhaps four hundred years.

Norrell is an extremely dishonest magician, and (despite doing exactly this) consistently argues (in public and even with Jonathan Strange) against the practice of magicians contacting fairies - because of the dangers; and this warning superficially seems to be amply justified by the subsequent events.

Nonetheless, it also becomes clear that all magic ultimately comes from fairies - and that even Norrell's own magic, which he believes himself to have learned entirely from books, has been tacitly permitted, and indeed encouraged, from Faerie by the Raven King.

http://charltonteaching.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/the-restoration-of-english-magic-re.html

So, I think we must assume that it was, in principle, alright for Norrell to enlist the assistance of a fairy - if, let us say, the thing was done for the right reasons and in the right way. But that in fact there was something about the way this fairy was enlisted by Norrell which led to many bad outcomes - the actual summoning was (we can infer) done for the wrong reasons and in the wrong ways.

Firstly, Norrell enlisted the fairy primarily for his own self-aggrandizement - in order to impress the prominent politician Sir Walter Pole by raising his recently-dead fiancee, and thereby putting Sir Walter into Norrell's debt. Norrell justifies this to himself by pretending the action was for the benefit of restoring 'English magic', but in practice Norrell always interprets 'English magic' purely in terms of himself and his own benefit; and he does his best to prevent or suppress all other aspects of English magic.

So first the motive was wrong. What, then, about the specific fairy who was summoned: the 'gentleman with thistledown hair'? At first glance he seems to be the worst possible fairy that Norrell could have summoned - however it seems that Norrell had no control over this, and I think we must assume that the Raven King was behind the choice.

The thistledown fairy has, indeed, many desirable qualities, some of which he tells us (and seem to be confirmed) and others which emerge through the story. Firstly, he is a King and is perhaps the most magically powerful fairy alive; and secondly he has been the servant and friend of some of the greatest magicians England has ever known: primarily the Raven King himself, but also the Golden Age ('aureate') magicians Thomas Godbless, Ralph Stokesy and Martin Pale.

Although there is considerable evidence that this fairy has become corrupted over the past few hundred years, and is now a monster of cruelty and conceit, I think that we would be justified in assuming that if Norrell's motives had been good and if Norrell's decisions had been wise and altruistic, this fairy would have been suitable.

The crucial moment comes when the 'bargain' is being settled between Norrell and the fairy - when the fairy asks: "Should I agree to restore this young woman to life, what would be my reward?"

Norrell asks what the fairy wants, and the response is: "to be allowed to aid you in all your endeavors, to advise you upon all matters and to guide you in your studies. Oh, and you must take care to let all the world know that your greatest achievements are due to larger part to me!"

This seems not unreasonable, and would seem to be the normal way in which fairies have worked with magicians in the past - they are apparently a conceited race and love nothing more than frequent praise and honours; but have been content to be led strategically and ruled by Men, who are more diligent than they.

However, Norrell rejects this request for selfish, egotistical reasons, without consideration; this, because he wishes to be given personal credit for all magic, and does not want to share status or praise with anybody - least of all with a fairy.

This refusal provokes 'a long silence' and then the fairy declares 'this is ungrateful indeed' - and eventually suggests a deceptive 'deal' where he claims 'half' of Lady Pole's new life - which Norrell simply understands to mean her lifespan being shortened by half; but which the fairy interprets to mean absolute control over half of each and every day of Lady Pole's life.

(For half of every day for an agreed ninety-four years, during the nights, Lady Pole is therefore compelled to be the fairy's companion in fairyland; engaged in repetitive and tedious dances, rituals and ceremonies - until she comes to regard her inescapable fate as literally worse than being dead.)

What has happened is that instead of Norrell himself paying the 'price' for the fairy's cooperation, he makes Lady Pole pay the price - whether she likes it or not. This is the essence of Norrell's wicked action.

So - I think we can locate Norrell's refusal of the fairy's first offer as the critical turning point in the plot of the book, since it leads to the enchantments of Lady Pole, Stephen Black and Arabella Strange - and to the fixed hostility of the fairy towards both Norrell and Strange (leading to their own bleak personal fates as co-prisoners bound in darkness).

In sum: it was necessary to the restoration of English magic that a fairy be summoned, and it was probably right that that particular fairy be the gentleman with thistledown hair; but most of the tragedies of the story stem from Norrell's selfishly bad motivations in summoning the fairy and his selfishly bad decision with respect to making a deal with the fairy.

The Restoration of English Magic (re: Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell)

Susanna Clarke's novel Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (2004), as 'about' the restoration of English magic after a hiatus of some 200-400 years; and the underlying assumption of the story is that this restoration is 'a good thing'.

Yet on the surface magic seems to cause a great deal of trouble and doesn't really make all that much of a difference to national affairs. So why is restoring it a good idea?

This matter is not tackled explicitly in the text, so I need to make inferences.


First of all, what is English magic and where does it comes from?

Magic is the ability to use the 'elements' (stones, water, rain, earth, wind etc) in order to accomplish aims; and magic comes from fairies. Fairies can do magic naturally, because they spontaneously communicate with the elements and can make alliances with them - the elements will usually do what fairies ask of them.

Men can become magicians and do magic either by forming alliances with fairies or (more, or less, superficially) copying fairy magic. Men usually cannot communicate with the elements; so if they do not enlist the aid of fairies, men can only do magic indirectly by learning what fairies do, and (more, or less, effectively) copying them to compel the elements to cooperate in a rather limited fashion.


English magic - as a tradition - came from The Raven King (John Uskglass) who ruled the North of England circa 1100-1400 from his capital in Newcastle. After he departed from England there was an immediate loss of magical scope and power, then Men's ability to do magic gradually faded-away over the next few generations. During the same time, contact between Men and fairies ceased.

Uskglass was the greatest-ever magician because he was a Man who was stolen by fairies as a child, and (for reasons unknown) came to embody the strengths of both races.

His kingdom in Northern England included both Men and fairies. The Men had the advantages of enhanced power; the fairies were better ruled by Men than by themselves (fairies being excessively indolent, of modest intelligence and too fickle to be strategic) - and they would also kidnap and enchant some men, women and children to be their beautiful playthings or drudging servants.

Despite this endemic, albeit low frequency, problem of fairy kidnappings; the people of Northern England regarded the era of The Raven King as a golden age - and had King Arthur-like legends about him returning and resuming his rule - this being a fairly likely prospect given that John Uskglass, despite being a Man in origin, seemed to have become as longaevus as fairies (who can live many thousands of years, and are difficult to kill).

Indeed, the story of the novel is about how the early steps towards this return are 'managed' (from 'behind the scenes') by John Uskglass.


But, in terms of the book; why was the era of magic a better one than the era which succeeded it? My feeling is that it was not because of the extra power deriving from magic and alliance with fairies; but because of the spiritual prerequisites of magic; that to be able to accomplish magic properly required the fairy-like ability to communicate and form alliances with the elements, with England.

So the era of magic was an era of depth and meaning, in which Men belonged to their Land in a way far beyond anything normally achievable.

To do magic, the English need to become 'at home in England' - to enter a real and personal relationship with the elements of their country.

And this requires that very hazardous undertaking: a renewed relationship between Men and fairies.


The Restoration of English magic was therefore, and necessarily, also the restoration of Englishmen's contact with the fairy race - an event which rapidly has some horrible consequences for several English men and women throughout the course of the story.

So, the Restoration of English magic is A Good Thing, but also a thing fraught with danger and with horrible consequences for some people; and although we see mostly the bad effects of renewed contact with fairies, I think we must also assume that this is A Good Thing too - and worth the risks and costs.


As with everything else; the result of interactions between Men and fairies broadly depend on motivations - especially the motivations of Men (who are more moral than fairies). Therefore, the benefits tend to flow from good motivations, and dangers and suffering tends to be a consequence of bad choices - greed, power-seeking, the desire for status, hatred and so on.

Indeed, the bad consequences of fairy contact can be seen to flow from a single bad (wrong, wicked) choice by Gilbert Norrell during his first contact with the fairy known as The Gentleman with the Thistledown Hair - this being the first contact between an English magician and a fairy for some hundreds of years.

More on this soon.

Hypothetical identification of Penlaw - the place where the Raven King's army first appeared in Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

In the last months of 1110 a strange army appeared in Northern England. It was first heard of near a place called Penlaw some twenty or thirty miles north-west of Newcastle. No one could say where it had come from –it was generally supposed to be an invasion of Scots or Danes or perhaps even of French. By early December the army had taken Newcastle and Durham and was riding west. It came to Allendale, a small stone settlement that stands high among the hills of Northumbria, and camped one night on the edge of a moor outside the town.

From Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke.


The intriguing thing about the name Penlaw is that is apparently just about the only invented place name in the 1000 odd pages of the novel:


https://hurtfew.wikispaces.com/Penlaw


As a resident of Newcastle and descendent of Northumbrians this piqued my curiosity. Since there is no such place as Penlaw 20-30 miles north-west of Newcastle I wondered whether it might be some kind of philological code.


Pen = the name of a female swan; Law is a dialect word for hill


Which gives us Swan Hill.


Swan Hill turns out to be the name of a farm cottage in Longhorsley, which is a village... 20-30 miles north-west of Newcastle.


http://www.zoopla.co.uk/property/swan-hill-cottage/longhorsley/morpeth/ne65-8rb/15838055


So my guess is that Susanna Clarke spent some time at Swan Hill farm or cottage at some point, and maybe that was where she had the idea of the Raven King's army, and decided to put it into the novel but in a 'pied' form (as a code or puzzle understandable by initiates only), or something...

Subcreation and world-building in Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

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Having read the notes in addition to the novel, it is clear that Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (by Susanna Clarke) is one of the most real fictional subcreations I have ever encountered.

It is very difficult not to believe it really happened, because the world is so detailed, so consistent, so convincing. As I walked around Newcastle today, I kept thinking of the time when the Raven King ruled from here - I even saw a raven!

I was trying to the think of comparisons in the post-Tolkien literature.

The nearest fantasy I could come are the Alan Garner Weirdstone of Brisingamen/ Moon of Gomrath duo in which the magical events are sewn-into a lot of local and family history, folklore and neo-paganism. The ring of truth and believable - but the detail is much less than in JS&MN.

http://charltonteaching.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/review-of-alan-garners-weirdstone-of.html

The other example is the Glass Family stories by JS Salinger, which are also difficult not to believe, and similar in their detailed and deep and partly factual back-story (albeit in a different style) to JS&MN.

http://charltonteaching.blogspot.co.uk/2011/05/zooey-wins-and-explaining-seymours.html


('Difficult not to believe', that is, with the exception of the last Glass story published - Hapworth 16 1924, which is simply atrocious).
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The Raven King's prophecy about England and magic

http://albionawakening.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/the-prophecy-of-john-uskglass-raven.html

Review of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke (2004)

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https://ourblogisawesome.wordpress.com/2012/04/29/pop-culture-redefined/

I simply cannot believe how good this book is! It strikes me as one of the very best novels I have ever read, and one which will change my life and the way I think about things.

I am also bewildered as to how I have missed it for the past eleven years - indeed, when I was on holiday I picked-up a copy three years ago and leafed through it; then replaced it on the shelf unread.

I can only assume that I was put-off by various off-putting aspects of the book's presentation to the reading public which rubbed me up the wrong way.

(Apparently, an extreme hype; endorsements by 'the usual suspects'; the fact that it seemingly emanated from the world of professional publishing - and was, therefore, likely to have been expertly crafted to impress.)

Well, I eventually got to read the book through watching the first episode of a BBC TV adaptation, currently running - and being caught-up, liking it very much (the episodes have since declined a bit) - found it running in my mind... I was on holiday in the country when I felt I could not delay reading it. I did not want to wait to buy a paper copy - so I obtained it on Kindle.

But whatever it was that delayed my engagement; I was wrong, wrong, wrong! This is a truly wonderful book - a labour of love, deep, wise, inspired - extremely well-written and constructed - absolutely fascinating, and (plot-wise) un-put-down-able.

I have been living in its imaginative world for the past week - and already things look different.

(And I haven't even yet read the extensive footnotes, which some people say is the best bit!)

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is in the 'fantasy' genre; about magic, magicians, fairies; set in the early 1800s (and written in a semi-pastiche of the style of that era); and in an England (a world) where there is the back-story of a 300 year period of the middle ages during which the North of England was ruled by the greatest-ever enchanter (a human stolen and reared by fairies) called The Raven King - whose capital was Newcastle (i.e. the city where I live!).

So, one way and another; there is another English genius - and her name is Susanna Clarke.

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Birdemic!

Corvidae - the invisible threat that justifies world totalitarian takeover: or, the return of The Raven King?

So this is it! The spring 2020 totalitarian power grab that I have been expecting - but (in an example of demonic improvisation) justified by an invisible virus (with a routine, tiny, global impact; covered by media censorship and selective over-reporting) instead of (the planned) invisible CO2 Global Warming/ Climate Emergency/ Extinction Rebellion Terror-Crisis. 

On the whole it is scarier to believe in a world plague than creeping sea levels. And so long as every international death is reported - with race, age and health details censored - it does indeed sound scary; even when the percentage affected is sub-detectable by normal standards.

The newspaper headlines today have described that the UK government has implemented a state of war, and control of public 'gatherings'. despite that - in global terms - nothing has happened. But nothing is (in fact) more than enough to create genuine chaos, a genuine 'emergency' requiring 'sweeping powers'...

So, we have it! - It Has Happened - and with support from a terrified mass public. 

My next prediction is that the demonic roots will quickly become evident (to those with eyes to see) in terms of what actually happens.

(As a small but significant instance; keep a particular eye on what happens to government regulation of Christian church 'gatherings' compared with other kinds of monotheistic church 'gatherings'.)

We can indeed see in practice that free-floating fear is a sin; the opposite of love - and in a Godless world, fear is readily created, amplified, manipulated and directed; without limit or feedback.

A Sunday morning synchronisitic walk from my house

This was a walk in which I was almost immediately aware that I was in the grip of synchronicities.

The first I noticed as a lovely Orange Pink sky in the East, with high wisps of clouds making lines and planes. Then, as I descended the street, there was a large crow perched on a slender tree top (the tree naked of leaves, and very tall and slender) - such sights always remind me of The Raven King in Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - especially when I saw another crow in a similar situation on a tree across the road.

What brought me to a standstill, with an intake of breath, was that the newly risen sun was a glowing orange ball - sufficiently obscured that I could look directly at it, yet bright enough that its light was bathing all in the East.

Going past the ruined medieval chapel, a thought of the day before when I had watched a greater spotted woodpecker 'drumming' on a tree trunk in front of me - and been able to understand this phenomenon for the first time, and by direct personal observation (the primary basis of all Science!).  listened out, and sure enough there was more woodpecker drumming to be heard.

Then, my progression was again arrested by the glorious sound of a song thrush - with its characteristic and unique 'fruity' tones, amidst a variety and inventiveness equal to the blackbird or nightingale. As I listened for a few minutes, I never heard it repeat.

Then - having to explain to a passer by why I was standing and staring up at a tree - I had a brief and pleasant conversation with a man from Yorkshire who was visiting the city to watch a football match, and was very interested by the parkland nearby (Jesmond Dene).

Since I "never" speak with any passers by on my walks, my guess is that this conversation was the purpose of these synchronicities - although I have no idea why. At any rate the sense of 'magic' dissipated after this; but it was lovely while it lasted - the world unfolding before me, revealing beauty and significance everywhere I looked.

Asking/ Giving "advice" - the example of Newcastle upon Tyne

Dog Leap Stairs, running up from the Quayside towards the Norman "New Castle". Evocative of Newcastle as The Raven King's magical capital city, in Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell.   

Some of the people who ask for advice do not intend to take it - they may even be intending to react against it. 

Or they may be seeking to avoid responsibility by saying (to themselves, if not to others) that they are only doing what they have been told -- although this doesn't make sense; since the advice was sought, and the decision to follow it was made. 

Some people (especially immature ones) are keen to give advice - and some of these actually expect others to follow it! 

So there is potential for some pretty pathological interactions here. 

It can be flattering to the inexperienced to be approached for advice; and this approach "for advice" may therefore be a method of manipulation. 

The whole business of advice assumes a generalizability from the individual to the group - the assumption that what is the case for me-her-now, is (or ought to be) the case for somebody/everybody else, in other circumstances. 

It was only in my middle twenties that I (finally!) began to realize that I was apparently highly atypical - such that most other people saw the world very differently, and wanted very different things. Until then I had assumed that such differences were due to other people not knowing about stuff - and if they knew what I did then they would think like I did. 

But eventually the reality dawned that this was not the case. I was, indeed, an extremely unusual person; and therefore what worked for me, would not necessarily work for others - because others wanted something very different, and were gratified by (and found aversive) very different places and people and situations. 

I can only talk about the past, because things will surely change in the future; but I have realized that the place for me has been Newcastle upon Tyne. I assume that this is somewhat due to family history, personal history and stuff like that - and therefore I have not assumed that what suited me and what I was up to, would suit other people. 

I would not be likely to advise people to live here; just because it suits me. (And not just me; also my family - which is, of course, decisive.) 

After all, I dis-like a great deal about this place and its people, and indeed I don't like very much of Newcastle. Probably most of the city and people I find aversive, and avoid. 

Other aspects I love in a way that goes very deep and has provided an unique sustenance. Nonetheless, I'm always a bit surprised when other people want to live here; and by the gravitational pull that some other people feel towards it. 

I think one great advantage of Newcastle is that it has been more real and coherent than most places. I felt this in contrast to the city of my schooldays - Bristol*. 

That reality may be unpleasant or simply alien to some people, and it is always dissolving in response to the depredations of totalitarian materialism. And there may come a time when I feel a need to move elsewhere. 

But, for me, it is important that the place I live has an objective kind of solidity, to which I personally am connected. No matter how pleasant some other places may be for most people with their different natures and goals; if that place feels not-real to me, or I am not inwardly-connected; then life feels arbitrary - and that is (for me) so bad - that it seems to spoil everything else. 

Or, to put matters positively; I have been very fortunate to find and (mostly) live somewhere about which I feel "romantic" and in which participation has been attainable for much of the time. 

But still, I would not be likely to advise anybody else to live here. 

*I spent my school years in Somerset near Bristol, and am still very fond of visiting that area (although I have gone-off Bristol itself since the millennium); but I did not find it difficult to leave the area. This may be attributable to having been born in Devon, and experiencing an alienating dislocation when we moved (from several understandable causes in combination - plus the facts of loss and strangeness). For several years afterwards, Devon felt magical, safe and natural; while Somerset was comparatively seedy, dull (because of long days at school, mostly) - and somewhat threatening. But I have very seldom been to Devon in the past 50 years, and not at all for more than thirty.  

The power of English Magic (from an interview with Susanna Clarke)

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Edited from https://www.drake.org.uk/interviews/susanna-clarke-author-of-jonathan-strange-mr-norrell/

Question: You seem to specifically emphasize English magic throughout Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell. It is rarely, as I recall, just magic that is returning — it is English magic. Is English magic very different from that of other places? Did other nations lose their magic as England did, and if so, is it coming back? Can you do English magic if you aren’t in England, or is it tied to the land?

Susanna Clarke's answer: This is an important question and I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t give it a lot of thought until I was nearing the end of writing Strange and Norrell.

Yes, you can do English magic if you aren’t in England. We know this because Strange does magic in Portugal, Spain, Italy and Belgium (and for an hour or so in America). Nevertheless English magic is tied to the land.

Let me see if I can explain this apparent contradiction. Human magic is borrowed from fairies — and fairies don’t think of magic as we do, as if it were something special. From their point of view it’s just part of normal life.

If a fairy wants something he asks his friends — the Wind, the Rain, the Hills and the Stars etc. — to help him get it. English magicians developed magic — made it less fundamental, less natural, but ultimately they were drawing on the goodwill of the English Wind, the English Rain, the English Hills and those Stars that you can see from the Sussex Wolds or Birmingham or Carlisle. So English magic was like a conversation between the magicians and England.

The reason English magic is particularly strong is because of John Uskglass - The Raven King, a child stolen from England and taken to Faerie, where he learnt fairy magic and gained a fairy kingdom, before returning to England to gain an English kingdom. He then taught his magic to other humans.

This wasn’t so much because he was a generous sort of person — he’s not usually. It was more because he had two sorts of subjects — fairies and humans — and he saw that he needed to get them to bond, to become one people. Getting them to do magic together was a clever way to do this.

On the other hand, how English is English magic? As we’ve seen it comes from fairies. And John Uskglass didn’t think of himself as English — not at first anyway. He claimed to be Norman, which (if it were true) meant that his grandfather would have come over from Normandy with William the Conqueror. And in the 19th century Jonathan Strange’s mother was Scottish.

At the end of JS&MN there’s a footnote about a Scottish magician and Scottish magic. And Jennifer-Oksana’s is an Introduction to The Books of Caribbean Magic (2nd Edition): a fun piece of fan fiction crossing JS&MN with Pirates of the Caribbean. Other countries do have their own magics — I can’t see why they wouldn’t.

On the whole I suspect English magic has the edge because of Uskglass.

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