"No mas, no mas. . ."

Such were the words of the celebrated boxing legend Roberto Duran when he was forced to quit against Sugar Ray Leonard in 1980.
He was given a boxing lesson that night, and Leonard reclaimed the welterweight title he had lost to Duran 5 months before. Much in the same way, after Susanna Clarke battered me to the point of unconsciousness so many times in the last couple of weeks, after knocking me down countless times, cutting me open, and basically killing me on my feet, my corner decided to throw in the towel.

When I reached the end of chapter 57 last evening, after 830 pages I decided that I had seen enough. I firmly believed that I could be a trooper and tough it up, but in the end I closed down Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell before going to dinner and knew that there was no way I could ever pick it up again. I have never -- ever -- been this underwhelmed by such a renowned work of speculative fiction.

Looking back, I can't quite believe how many chances I gave this novel. A lot more than it deserved, that's for damn sure! I meant to write a post full of sarcastic bits and pieces, but I went to Auschwitz and Birkenau extermination camps today and I don't have it in me to do so. Books that you read while on vacation sometimes become associated with those travels. I feel so sorry that my adventure in beautiful Poland will henceforth forever be tainted by the memory of such a disappointing book like Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell.

I agree wholeheartedly that the novel is well-written. I really enjoyed Clarke's witty writing style, though the prose is at times a bit too flowery. That this work has been thoroughly researched is evident, and the author's grasp of the countless 19th-century details is nothing short of astonishing. And yet, incorporated together to form a novel created what is possibly one of the most boring works I have ever read. We're talking all filler and no killer here, all in the name of mannerism. . .

Pointless chapters succeed one another, adding more padding to a book that's already vast enough. Cut to about 400 pages, I reckon I would have enjoyed it quite a bit. Sadly, having to read through a panoply of chapters that go nowhere and add nothing whatsoever to the storylines just about did it for me. I mean, there is basically no plotlines, and those that comprise the novel are decidedly on the thin side. I mean, give me a reason to read this!

The characterization, much like the plot, leave a lot to be desired. Jonathan Strange is the only well-drawn character in the entire book, and even he is not anything special. The supporting cast is more or less on the lame side, which doesn't help at all.

Having said all that, it's the pace that killed me. I mean, when the story moves at a speed that makes a Polish train feel like you're riding the TGV, is it any wonder I lost interest. Keep in mind that the better part of that book was read aboard trains, while I had absolutely nothing else to do. The Polish countryside isn't exactly the rolling hills of Tuscany, so it's not as though the scenery was enchanting enough to keep me away from reading. And the only people in my compartments turned out to be old Polish folks who didn't speak a lick of French or English. Technically, I should have finished Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell ages ago. But the damned thing bored me to tears to such an extent that I could never read more than 50-75 pages in one sitting. I've spent the last week or so traveling with an Aussie girl from Melbourne, and she fell asleep on the train to Krakow. Naturally, I decided to read a little and never knew she was observing me until I heard her laugh. She claimed I had such a look of disdain and hopelessness on my face that I should just quit reading the stupid thing.

But I was so close to my objective. I wanted to soldier on, to reach the book's ending so I could review it. Alas, I relish the thought of finishing the novel as much as I want to get an anal search at the Warsaw airport when I fly to Helsinki in a couple of days. Truth to tell, I'd rather read Terry Goodkind's The Sword of Truth. And coming from me, that's saying something!

Hence, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell will become a wandering book. I will leave it here at the book exchange of Krakow's Greg and Tom Hostel, hoping that it will travel around the world in the hands of readers who will enjoy it more than I did. . .

I know that many people liked the book. But I believe it's fair to say that it did absolutely nothing for me. And I gave it more chances than I have ever given any single book I can remember. Oh well, to each his own. . .

I wanted to tell you guys more about Wroclaw and Krakow, but it's been a long day and I need a drink. Hmmm, I think I need more than a few drinks!;-) Just know that I'm still having a ball, though the girls in Krakow are nowhere near as stunning as the ones in Wroclaw! Needless to say, I'm loving my stay in Poland and I wish I could spend more time in this very nice country. So I'll give you the lowdown some other time.

Meanwhile, there's bound to be a cold Zywiec or Tyskie beer with my name on it nearby. . .:-)

Again, don't spellcheck me! And please, consider visiting Poland!:p For the gorgeous girls, if nothing else!!!