The Night Circus: a Game of Magic, Love and Mystery

‘The circus arrives without warning.’

A dreamy tale as intricate as the threads with which Marco binds, as deceptive as the doves from Miss Bowen’s sleeves, The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern is the ultimate fantasy fiction novel. ‘Transported’ is a sadly lacking word when it comes to describing this feat of pure imagination, nevertheless it must do for the sake of this review. Just as abruptly as the mysterious circus arrives, the tale of Celia Bowen and Marco Alisdair captured my heart suddenly and absolutely.

‘They tell of how they found the circus, how those first few steps were like magic. Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars.’

Morgenstern’s writing had me crying for characters as though I were their closest friend, and puzzling out each step in the mysterious, intricate game of magicks along with the players. The dreamy cadence of Morgenstern is beautiful yet accessible, conjuring the most fantastical visions of ice gardens without shadows, halls that never end, and many more, with the skill and grace of the best illusionist. She weaves the complex threads of heartache through the playing field, the Night Circus, among a company of characters I became just as enchanted with as Celia and Marco themselves.

‘[B]efore she can vocalise her surprise, his lips close over hers and she is lost in wordless bliss.’

Like a Réveur, a dedicated follower of the circus, I followed our protagonists’ stories with heart and soul, walking through the tents with patrons, wishing upon the wishing tree, and all the while fearing, in my dreamlike wandering, for the fate of the two young players starring in their own private act only we, the reader, are privy to. The story itself is a compelling performance of intricate plot, compelling characters, and dreamlike prose. Each page - each word - provides another step in answering the persistent, timeless question; will true love win out? 

I floated from page to page, from tent to tent, from location to location with the circus, unwilling to leave. At last, I closed the cover with the satisfaction and the heartache of having read an exemplary work of fantasy fiction. My only regret in beginning this novel is that I must reach the end.