Spoiler warning: this blogpost contains references to episode six of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell which airs on BBC1 in the UK and BBC America in the US.
‘Be advised by me, Sirs, do not buy your books from here. They are liars and thieves’ – Gatcombe
Our penultimate episode opened with a most tender scene, that of Eddie Marsan’s Gilbert Norrell regarding the “work of beauty” penned by his pupil Jonathan Strange, a single tear rolling down his cheek in front of the fire at Hanover Square. Once again, Marsan showed his understated prowess. The moment of brotherhood did not last, however, as Norrell proceeded to make the whole lot disappear, including those copies at John Murray’s publishing house, much to the consternation of Murray himself (an underused John Sessions) and poor, voiceless Mr Tantony, who’d once more travelled down from Nottinghamshire with Mr Gatcombe only to be royally buggered about again by magicians. My advice? Stick to brewing, sirs.
‘He says these things bring death … madness’ – Flora Greysteel
Now holed up in Venice, and driven to extreme measures by the “death” of Arabella, Strange encounted the Greysteels (Flora, a poetry groupie and erstwhile chum of Byron, played by Lucinda Dryzek, and her father James, played by Game of Thrones’ Clive Mantle) as he was barking at a shopkeeper about procuring materials to make him mad. As luck would have it, they knew the maddest old bird-eating broad in town. Back to that in a moment.
‘Mr Drawlight, I can conjure terrors, sir, of which your mind cannot conceive. Find Mr Strange and stay with Mr Strange’ – Norrell
Who better to stick his sticky beak into Strange’s beeswax than the tragic Drawlight, that gossiping fishwife in regency clothing. Being released from chokey, having all his debts paid plus an all-expenses trip to Venice seemed a bloody good deal to me, regardless of the danger posed by reporting back to Lascelles and Norrell with word of Strange’s dabblings with dark, Uskglassian magic. He delivered another memorable line too, when discussing which 19th century goofballs Strange might or might not be hopped up on.
Drawlight: “He takes certain powders and preparations.”
Norrell: “Of what kind?”
Drawlight: “Oh, they are all of the fashion. Amongst the poets. The kind of thing to provoke visions of palaces in Xanadu or Christ stuck up a tree. And suchlike.”
Marvellous.
‘I have a proposal for you, madam. I am able to give you your heart’s desire. And in return, you shall give me mine … I want you to teach me how to be mad’ – Strange
No one had ever been so happy to see a barking old cat lady as Strange, transforming crazy old Mrs Delgado into a feral feline in return for the rodent equivalent of liquid LSD. Luckily, his magic mouse juice proved just the ticket, allowing him to not only summon but converse, finally, with Thistledown, much to the Gentleman’s chagrin, though their initial chat was fairly cordial. Their contretemps – first at Strange’s squalid Venetian garret and then the more climactic clash at Lost Hope – when Strange finally realised that Arabella was quite alive and quite enchanted, was fearsome stuff, as the Gentleman encased his enemy in darkness. See below my musings on “magic hands”.
‘Let’s go for a stroll ... and find my tree’ – Vinculus
This week’s episode was perhaps as much concerned with the predicament of Stephen Black as about the imprisonment of Strange in his inky plume. Finally – finally! – spurred into action, his mutinous road trip with Vinculus saw him grow a pair, a pair that Lady Pole had grown some weeks ago. I stand by my point last week, that despite his own enchantment, he saw fit to do nothing but the Gentleman’s bidding and appeared cowardly because of it, while Lady Pole secretly did her best to try and wriggle free – albeit futilely – from the siren song of Lost Hope. Their exchange at the water was bold and brilliant.
Vinculus: “I was born with this just like you were born with that. Our meaning is written on our skin, nameless slave.”
Stephen: “Indeed. My skin means that any man may strike me in a public place and never fear the consequence. It means that no matter how many books I read, how many languages I master, no matter how diligently I work, I will never be anything but a curiosity. It means I am nothing.”
Vinculus: “My skin means the opposite of yours. My skin means you will be raised up on high, nameless slave … that your enemies shall be destroyed … it means that the time has almost come.”
Vinculus’s hanging was a cruel, empty death – if prefixed by some solid putdowns by the Gentleman – but one suspects that this is not the end of the vagabond magician.
‘I am opening the door. I am returning magic to England’ – Strange
Drawlight’s assignation, meanwhile, would likely have had him praying for his wretched cell. It was a fine scene, and delightfully menacing, as Strange positioned himself for the endgame, unleashing that Batman-esque unkindness of ravens (yes, that is the thoroughly glorious collective noun) which smashed into Hanover Square. He is coming.
I’m going to throw it out there – best episode so far. It was tough to fault, though it also sets the bar perilously high for the finale next week. Remember, there isn’t a second book, so when this is gone, it’s gone.
Other matters of note
Magic Hands Much like jazz hands, there is extensive use of “magic hands” in JSAMN (as I’ve only now decided to acronym it, with just one episode to go. Think of the time we could have saved). One can’t help thinking you must feel a right tool doing “magic hands” in front of all manner of grips and gaffers on set, before all the special effects are added in several months later. Got to be hard to style that out.
Vinculus Chic It struck me like a hammer blow when Paul Kaye’s Vinculus stripped off by the water’s edge with Stephen Black that with his sleeve tats, daft hat (he gets “hat of the week”, by the way) and straggly beard, that he’s just a bloody Dalston hipster. Someone get this man a vintage Italian unicycle and some part-time work as a barista/social media consultant and the circle is complete. Expect Vinculus chic to sweep east London forthwith.
Gun in the Face of the Week First episode in, and James Greysteel nails it during a witheringly simple exchange with Drawlight, who displayed all the charm of a frothing gossip columnist as he and Flora exited Strange’s Black Tower.
Drawlight: “What have you heard? Is it true that he has turned people into glass and thrown stones at them. And m’lady, are you his special friend? What is he about in there?”
Greysteel: “Do you wish to be shot?”
Drawlight: “No.”
Greysteel: “Then behave differently.”
Congrats, a signed copy of Pevensey’s Eighteen Wonders to be Found in the House of Albion is in the post.
