Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell

Excerpt 1

The York Society of Magicians is a group of theoretical magicians, men who study England's magical past but have no powers themselves; as far as they know, no practicing magicians have existed for centuries. They have recently heard that a Mr Norrell of Hurtfew Abbey calls himself a practicing magician, and so have asked him to demonstrate his powers. Mr Norrell agrees to do so, summoning them on an appointed date to go to York Cathedral for this display, on the condition that if he proves that his powers are real that the “magicians” of the society will cease to call themselves by that name.

As the sounds of the bells died away a voice began to speak from somewhere high up in the gloomy shadows above their heads. The magicians strained their ears to hear it.

The voice itself was not easy to understand; it bore not the slightest resemblance to a human voice - which only served to increase the gentlemen's fear that fairies were about to appear. It was extraordinarily harsh, deep and rasping; it was like two rough stones being scraped together and yet the sounds that were produced were clearly intended to be speech - indeed were speech. The gentlemen peered up into the gloom in fearful expectation, but all that could be seen was the small, dim shape of a stone figure that sprang out from one the shafts of a great pillar and jutted into the gloomy void. As they became accustomed to the queer sound they recognized more and more words; Old English words and Old Latin words all mixed up together as if the speaker had no conception of these being two distinct languages.

Mr Thorpe, who was a valiant gentleman, peeped into the chancel alone, to discover who it was that spoke. "It is a statue," he said.

Excerpt 2

Mr Norrell has come to London and is trying to win the favor of Sir Walter Pole, a member of the Cabinet. Norrell believes Sir Walter Pole can help him find a way to aid England in the war against Napoleon, but the official is rather scandalized by the notion of calling on a magician for help, and has refused Norrell's offer. However, when Sir Walter's young fiancée dies suddenly, he finds himself more willing to trust Norrell, who claims he can bring her back from the dead. Norrell has come to Pole's house and is sitting by the dead woman's bedside.

When everyone had gone Mr Norrell rose wearily from his seat and took up his book. He opened it at the place he had marked with the folded letter and placed it upon a little table so that it would be to hand if he needed to consult it. Then he began to recite a spell.

It took effect almost immediately because suddenly there was something green where nothing green had been before and a fresh, sweet smell as of woods and fields wafted through the room. Mr Norrell stopped speaking.

Someone was standing in the middle of the room: a tall, handsome person with pale, perfect skin and an immense amount of hair, as pale and shining as thistle-down. His cold, blue eyes glittered and he had long dark eye-brows, which terminated in an upward flourish. He was dressed exactly like any other gentleman, except that his coat was of the brightest green imaginable - the colour of leaves in early summer.

"Yes, yes!" cried the gentleman. "You elected to summon me because my genius for magic exceeds that of all the rest of my race. Because I have been the servant and confidential friend of Thomas Godbless, Ralph Stokesey, Martin Pale and of the Raven King. Because I am valorous, chivalrous, generous and as handsome as the day is long! That is all quite understood! It would have been madness to summon anyone else! We both know who I am. The question is: who in the world are you ?"

"I?" said Mr Norrell, startled. "I am the greatest magician of the Age!"

Excerpt 3

The young, wealthy, and handsome Jonathan Strange, who has yet to discover his powers, is on his way to try to persuade his beloved, Arabella Woodhope, to marry him. On the way, he discovers a crowd of armed villagers gathered around a man who has spent the night sleeping under a hedge. The man turns out to be Vinculus, who claims rather dubiously to be a magician, but who does at least know a prophecy that turns out to concern Mr Norrell and Jonathan Strange.

The man extracted himself from the hedge. This was no easy task because various parts of it -- hawthorn twigs, elder branches, strands of ivy, mistletoe and witches' broom -- had insinuated themselves among his clothes, limbs and hair during the night. “My name is Vinculus,” he declared. “For ten days I have been walking westwards in search of a man who is destined to be a great magician. Ten days ago I was shown a picture of this man and now by certain mystic signs I see that it is you!”

“Me?” said Strange.

“ Two magicians shall appear in England ,” said Vinculus.

“The first shall fear me; the second shall long to behold me;

The first shall be governed by thieves and murderers; the second shall conspire at his own destruction;

The first shall bury his heart in a dark wood beneath the snow, yet still feel its ache;

The second shall see his dearest possession in his enemy's hand ...”

“I see,” interrupted Strange. “And which am I, the first or the second? No, do not tell me. It does not matter. Both sound entirely dreadful. For someone who is anxious that I should become a magician, I must say you do not make the life sound very appealing. I hope to be married soon and a life spent in dark woods surrounded by thieves and murderers would be inconvenient to say the least. I suggest you chuse someone else.”

“I did not chuse you, magician! You were chosen long ago.”

“Well, whoever it was, they will be disappointed.”