In Praise of Susanna Clarke

Susanna Clarke’s second novel Piranesi was published in 2020, but it wasn’t until May 2021 that I finally read it (or rather listened to it), at which point I was powerfully reminded of just how great an author Clarke is. A couple of months after finishing Piranesi I dug out my copy of Clarke’s short story anthology The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories and finally read it, fifteen years after I bought it. Finally, in August, after dithering over whether I could sustain my attention for a 32.5 hour audiobook, I took the plunge and revisited Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell in audio. Over the course of the next 35 and a half hours of listening (over a good two or three weeks) I came to the conclusion that not only is Jonathan Strange… one of my all-time favourite novels, but that Susanna Clarke truly is a literary treasure.

And so to this article. 2021 for me has been a brilliant year of reading, but for all that I’ve read some incredible books by wonderful authors there’s no doubt in my mind that this has been a year dominated by a rekindling of my love for Susanna Clarke’s writing. As I’m working on this article I’m also planning my ‘Best SFF Books of 2021’ article, and if I was going purely off enjoyment then all three of Clarke’s books would be on (and almost certainly at or very near the top of) that list – however I always focus on books published ‘this year’ in my end of year lists, which means none of Clarke’s books are eligible. It didn’t seem right to completely ignore them though, given how much I’ve loved them, so instead I decided to write this piece as a recap and an overall summation of my thoughts having read and loved all three of Susanna Clarke’s books this year.

I’ll start with Piranesi, as the book that kicked off this whole experience. It’s something I’d had my eye on for a while, but coming more than 15 years after I’d first read Jonathan Strange I didn’t necessarily have a sense of urgency around this book. I remembered loving Clarke’s first novel, but I think I’d forgotten just how much I’d enjoyed it, so at the time I was expecting to enjoy Piranesi but I had no idea just how good it would be. I can vividly remember setting off for a walk with my headphones on and starting to listen to the audiobook though, hearing Chiwetel Ejiofor’s rich, warm voice begin to tell this story of ‘the Beloved Child of the House’ and his gradual journey towards the truth of his existence. It was one of those rare reading/listening experiences where I had absolutely no idea what was going on but didn’t mind in the slightest, as the combination of story and narration combined to keep me spellbound right from the off.

Speaking of rarities, Piranesi was also a book that I was determined to enjoy in small doses. I’m normally a fast reader, and will happily listen to hours on end of a good audiobook, but this time I was desperate not to race through it too quickly, and to really savour the story. I won’t go into too much detail – you can read my review for that – but I will say that I adore a book that draws me in despite not explaining everything as it goes, and Piranesi does exactly that. Listening to it I honestly felt as though this was a book written just for me, a baffling but wonderful puzzle of a book that rewards patience with a slow, beautiful unveiling of its magical world and powerful story. It’s not a long book (unlike Jonathan Strange) but in my mind it’s perfectly formed, an absolute gem of a novel that I will 100% revisit – in particular, having loved the audiobook I’m keen to read the prose novel as well to get the full experience.

As I alluded to earlier, listening to Piranesi left me with a keen desire to go back and revisit Clarke’s earlier work. At first a little wary of investing the time required to reread Jonathan Strange, I decided to give The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories a second try, having bounced straight off it when I first bought it. Clearly my tastes have changed since then, because reading this left me baffled as to why I struggled with it the first time around. Sure, these short stories don’t quite have the depth of Jonathan Strange or the wonder of Piranesi, and as a whole this doesn’t quite hit the spot in the way Clarke’s novels do. But that’s to be expected from a short story anthology which, while loosely themed, is inevitably less of a cohesive whole than a novel, and it’s certainly not to say that this isn’t a delight to read in its own way.

Every one of these short stories is sharply observed and with a compelling blend of reality, history and fairytale magic, a mixture that Clarke writes so well. Sure, only one of them actually features Jonathan Strange himself, but there’s clearly a common setting here and it’s a delight to explore some of the interesting little corners of it in these stories. There’s something wonderfully English about Clarke’s writing, not just in that she sets her stories in England but in the way she explores that brilliant blend of influences and the relationship between the people, the land and the magic. For all that this is my least favourite of Clarke’s three books, in this case ‘least’ is very much a relative term, and as a big fan of short stories I absolutely devoured this book once I got started. If Piranesi had encouraged me to read more, this left me desperate to revisit Jonathan Strange.

Now, if you haven’t read (or even held a copy of) Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell then you might be wondering why I was so cautious about revisiting it – well that’s because it’s a whopper. The paperback copy I own is 1006 pages long, and the audiobook is 32.5 hours long, so however you choose to read it (unless you watch the TV adaptation, I suppose) it’s quite the endeavour. I was definitely daunted by it, but after listening to a sample of the audiobook I fell straight in love with the narrator – Simon Prebble has a very different style to Chiwetel Ejiofor, but his voice combined with an interesting sort of old-school feel to the audio (it’s over 15 years old now) just felt so warm and inviting, and I couldn’t resist making a start. It took a lot of walks to listen to the whole thing, but every step of the way was an absolute pleasure, and I’m so happy I took the plunge!

Jonathan Strange is essentially a sort of Edwardian novel of manners revolving around a pair of magicians who both desire to bring about the return of English magic to its proper place of respect, but can’t agree on how this should be done. It’s long and largely quite sedate, with little in the way of flashy magic or outright action, but a great many rides in the countryside, strange dances, long conversations, diversions into Faerie or unexpected parts of England (and Europe) and detailed footnotes, all gradually building up this alternate world with incredible depth and detail. I can understand that it won’t be for everyone, but for me it’s just such a gently satisfying story with a rich and vivid world, and I adore the footnotes and the way they hint at a wealth of magical history running throughout England’s past. It’s undoubtedly an investment in time, but if you’re willing to be patient the result is a wonderful story full of subtle magic and warm joy. I just love it, and if I can find the time in future I know I’ll enjoy reading it a third time.

I called Jonathan Strange a “warm joy” and I think that’s a huge part of why I love Clarke’s writing so much. Other commentators with much more in-depth knowledge of literary history will be able to talk at length about her use of language, the literary and historical references she includes, and all the clever things she does to bring her characters and worlds to life. For me, I love her writing because it feels comforting – I don’t worry too much about analysing it as I’m reading or listening, I just allow myself to get lost in the storytelling. I find Clarke’s prose comfortable and easy to enjoy, often very beautiful and (especially in Piranesi) rich in detail and allusions, but to me it always feels natural and unforced, even when things are getting strange and/or magical. For all the strangeness in her writing there’s a lot of warmth too, and natural humour in the cleverly-observed ways in which characters interact and engage with each other.

I’m also an absolute sucker for stories set in a shared world, or stories which share thematic links, and both of those are present and correct in Clarke’s writing. The short stories in Ladies of Grace Adieu are all set in the same wonderful alternate England as Jonathan Strange, and while most of them look elsewhere to the novel and its characters, it’s still a delight to explore some of the other, lesser-seen corners of this world. It’s the sort of setting that leaves me almost painfully desperate to explore further, and I still retain a little hope that Clarke might return here in future stories. From a little research it seems as though her plan had originally been to write a sequel to Jonathan Strange, but for various reasons that didn’t happen. That’s such a shame…but while we’ll probably never get that sequel at least she did write Piranesi!

While Piranesi may not be set in the same England as the other stories, it does share themes and sensibilities with Clarke’s other writing, things that I maybe didn’t pick up on when I was listening to it but which I spotted when I went back to Jonathan Strange. Passing mentions of hidden labyrinths, and distant houses in alternative dimensions crop up now and then in Jonathan Strange, and if memory serves there’s even a mention or two of the name Piranesi – there was of course an 18th century architect named Giovanni Battista Piranesi! I don’t know if all three books are directly connected in Clarke’s mind, but there are definitely links of a sort between them, and I know I’ll be looking for those the next time I read Piranesi. Of course the flip side is that these sorts of subtle links are deliberately left in the background so that readers can enjoy each story for its own merits – but much like with my love of Peter Fehervari’s Dark Coil, I find that seeking out these connections is a big part of the overall enjoyment!

Having read all three books in 2021 I feel confident in repeating an earlier assertion – in my mind, Susanna Clarke is an absolute treasure of an author. Of course I’m sad that there are only these three books (so far), and I sincerely hope that Clarke will continue to write more, but my overriding emotion is gratitude that they do exist. I know I’m not the only one to have found 2021 tough, but these books have played a considerable part in keeping me going, and even if they remain the only Susanna Clarke books in existence I’m so glad I did read them this year. I know for sure that I will revisit at least Piranesi, but I can definitely see myself going back to both Jonathan Strange and Ladies of Grace Adieu when I can make the time for it. Some folks read Lord of the Rings every few years (or even every year) as a sort of ritual – well I wouldn’t be at all surprised if one or all of Clarke’s novels becomes the subject of that ritual for me.

I’ll finish off by reiterating how glad I am that I chose the audiobook format for two of these books. I know not everyone enjoys the audio format (often for good reasons) but I’ve grown to really love it over the last couple of years, and both Piranesi and Jonathan Strange are great examples of why that is. A good narrator is of course a must for a great audiobook, and both Chiwetel Ejiofor and Simon Prebble are just delights to listen to, but compelling, immersive stories are just as important. I could skip to any point in either of those audiobooks right now and spend a happy few minutes reliving what happens – these stories just resonate so strongly with me. There’s no one reason, but rather it’s the overall blend of wonderful characters, richly realised worlds, magic and wonder and everyday delight that all mixes together into a whole that just hits the spot for my tastes. You may not enjoy these stories, and that’s fine too. From my perspective though, 2021 has been a year in which I’ve been reminded of just how utterly perfect these particular stories are for me – so thank you Susanna Clarke for the comfort, the happiness and the joy that you’ve given me this year!

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If you haven’t already, you can read my review of Piranesi here.

Check out the links below to buy* a copy of Piranesi and make up your own mind about it!

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