Beauty in the Mystery: The Magic of The Night Circus

“This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it. Not a one of them even has an inkling of the things that are possible in this world, and what's worse is that none of them would listen if you attempted to enlighten them. They want to believe that magic is nothing but clever deception, because to think it real would keep them up at night, afraid of their own existence.”


I did not realize just how lacking the word magic was until lately. Until I read The Night Circus.

For here is a novel that, while written in English, seems to point out the utter failure of the language to describe all that goes on within its pages. Visitors to the Le Cirque des Rêves -- as well as followers, performers, creators -- none can really seem to describe what the circus really is. One character is called a magician, though he does no magic in the showy sense, and all his work happens from a distance. Another titles himself the Enchanter. A third is the illusionist, though her performances are far from illusions. So many of the synonyms for magic -- conjuring, sorcery, divination, witchcraft, to name a few -- seem to point out the trickery, the falseness, the suspicion of magic. Even enchantment, the most positive synonym in the thesaurus, can carry negative connotations. Magic is often misunderstood -- it is scoffed at, hated, or feared, and sometimes all three at once.

Yet in the world of fantasy, it is not only understood, but systematic. Pick your novel or series, and if magic is prominently featured, it is sure to be the domain of the protagonist. The main character discovers their abilities, and must learn to use them -- usually with the help of a school, books, or a mentor. The audience reads what they read, hears what they hear, learns what they learn, and so begins to understand the system of magic that a particular author has designed for their world.

Timey Wimey: How Fantasy Taught Me About History

I was a history major. I studied it for four years. So it’s somewhat shaming to admit that there are many things I don’t know. Not that I could ever know everything about history, because that’s just not possible. But that there are big things I didn’t know, really big things, is sort of embarrassing. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that by college, sick and tired of learning survey US History, I decided to concentrate in European history, which left me with a great understanding of Europe’s complex politics, but a lack of in-depth study on the issues that had been skated over so many times in survey classes in elementary, middle, and high school.

Individual issues are one matter. A general understanding of history is another.

Ironically enough, it was fiction that helped me understand this. To be specific, fantasy -- Tamora Pierce’s fantasy. Those of you who are Tammy fans will know that a major focus of her Tortall books is female empowerment. For those of you who haven’t... well, they all started with Alanna, who wanted to be a knight, not a lady. So she disguised herself as a boy, switched places with her brother, and went to become a page. She spent 8 years disguised as male, and her sex was only revealed shortly after she attained her knighthood. But one female knight, even a legendary one, didn’t stop all sexual discrimination in the realm. Daine, a country girl who has an unusual connection with animals, faces plenty of gender discrimination merely for not wearing skirts. Ten years later, Kel is the first woman to legally become a knight, and is faced with hazing, bullying, and even a probation year from the training master.

The Brilliant Creation That is Mastiff

It took me awhile, but I finally realized why it took me so long to warm up to Beka Cooper. She is the first Tortallan protagonist who I (Suzanne) genuinely see a lot of myself in--and when I was reading Terrier and Bloodhound, I did not like what I saw. The terrible shyness and fear of speaking in front of large crowds, the strident adherence to guidelines and rules, the tireless dedication to work, the taking of everything far too seriously. It hit too close to home. These are all traits that I possess, and they are things that I do not necessarily like about myself. It was difficult seeing them on the page. It was difficult to accept that someone so similar to me could be a hero in one of Tamora Pierce’s stories.

And yet, by the time we get to Mastiff, there is no question that Beka is indeed a hero.

Tammy doesn’t wait for us to catch up to Beka, in the three years since we’ve seen her. She doesn’t wait for us to get to know her fiance. For if we ever thought that Tamora Pierce lacked gusto, nerve, or oomph, we are proven wrong by the first sentence of this book:

We buried Holborn today.

Not just for teenage girls

Sometimes, the extent to which this world is still horribly, unashamedly sexist pisses me off. We are constantly confronted with the sexism of this world, and I have been becoming more and more aware of it. Usually, I can wish that it wasn’t so, and know that sometime, things will change. But sometimes - when I hear Taylor Swift’s “Love Story,” read certain interviews with Steven Moffat, or read about radical Christian groups, just as examples - I realize that it is still happening, still going on, still rampant in this world, this time, in my world. And I am really angry.

Times like that, I turn to Tamora Pierce. For those of you unfamiliar with her work, she is most famous for her five series of books set in the fantasy realm of Tortall. It all began with Alanna, the gutsy short redheaded twin who wanted to become a knight, not a lady. So she switched places with her brother to start her page training, disguised as a boy. She eventually becomes the King’s Champion and a legend by the name of the Lioness. There’s Daine, the outcast of a rural village who has a special ability to communicate with animals, an ability that makes her the kingdom’s greatest gift when immortals descend out of legend to the real world. There’s Kel, the first girl to try for the knighthood undisguised, who faces her own set of challenges. There’s Aly, Alanna’s daughter, who is hampered by her sheltered life and wants to become a spy, and is suddenly thrust into the role of mastermind of an island nation’s rebellion. And there’s Beka, a young policewoman determined to uphold the rule of the law and help the people survive in the worst-off areas of the kingdom.

All her stories, needless to say, are amazing. They’re the kind of fantasy I always hunger for. They’re the books that I’ve re-read more than any other - yes, perhaps even more than Harry Potter - and that I will continue to re-read, because they never get old. They’re the books that are comforting late at night, and inspiring when I’m down. They have great plots, novel ideas, and lovable characters. And I would love them for that alone.