Mark Your Calendars, because “Two Magicians Shall Appear in England…”

…and those Magicians are Neil Gaiman and Susanna Clarke.

(Surely there are author-magicians, just as Clarke tells us there are gentleman-magicians?) I nearly jumped out of my seat to see that they would be getting together to discuss Clarke’s new novel, Piranesi, on September 2, via 5X15’s online platform, and you can register here.

Having recently finished Neil Gaiman’s Masterclass on The Art of Storytelling, and being a huge fan of his writing and his exquisite audio narrations, I can’t think of a better duo to discuss the wild, almost heartbreakingly beautiful, melancholy magic that is Piranesi.

Gaiman and Clarke are the inheritors to Tolkien, Lewis, and the Inklings if anyone in this world or any other could be called so. Gaiman called Clarke’s Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell “the finest English novel of the fantastic written in the last seventy years.”

From what I’ve observed, Clarke doesn’t often engage in these kinds of public discussions, nor is she as active and visible on social media, so this is a fantastic opportunity for anyone who follows her to hear two phenomenal authors discussing one of the most beautiful books of our time. (I wrote some initial reflections on Piranesi here, though they might be better as post-reading discussion prompts.) She is one of the very few authors for whom, if a midnight new-book party occurred like the midnight showing of a new Star Wars film, I would stand in line the whole day; have multiple copies of her books on and hand them out like the Good News; reread each like my life and sanity depend on it. Perhaps they do.

On Rereading Dickens in 2021

There is something comforting in those new beginnings which feel like circling back round to something familiar. (Perhaps the rollout, albeit slow, of the vaccine, combined with the respite from daily/hourly fears of what strange new occurrence will emerge from the White House has something to do with it…? Some hope, perhaps, that a sort of “normalcy” will resume?) In any case, I’ve found that, in the midst of going back to reading Dickens’ biographies (currently, those of Michael Slater and John Forster), and reading/rereading those works of Boz that I’m less familiar with (notably, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, thanks to Dr. Pete Orford’s book on its various solutions and resolutions ~ and what fun to contribute to the solutions with a version of the Bernie’s Mittens meme), makes me long to have a more integrated, concentrated, and systematic approach to rereading Boz in the coming year.

Bernie as Dick Datchery? One of the mysteries of Edwin Drood SOLVED…?

Why do I feel the need to go back and reread everything in this way? I really don’t know. I feel like there is a Wellerism, or something like it, that I should have to hand here as a quippy response/explanation ~ but I really don’t know.

Having read all Dickens’ novels, some many many times over, I realize that my first read for each of them came at such different periods of time, in such a random fashion and in different frames of mind, that I find I keep going back to the same few ~ again and again. Whereas others, only once ~ and a long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away).

I call the former category my “Tier 1” of Dickens novels ~ not necessarily the “best” of his, but the ones that, for whatever reason, I have an itch to keep going back to: A Tale of Two Cities, The Pickwick Papers, and Little Dorrit. (I’ve read or listened to an unabridged audio of A Tale of Two Cities at least twenty times.)

Tier 2 would probably be: Dombey and Son, Our Mutual Friend, and Bleak House.

Tier 3, perhaps: David Copperfield, Nicholas Nickleby, and The Old Curiosity Shop.

Tier 4: Martin Chuzzlewit, The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

Tier 5 (and, yes, those I seem to go back to least, are some of his most known and most-often read): Oliver Twist, Great Expectations, Hard Times, and Barnaby Rudge.

Being less familiar also with his non-serial-novel works, I am looking forward to reading Pictures from Italy (1846) and American Notes (1842). I’m looking forward to attending a virtual lecture on the former in May, part of the Dickens Fellowship “programme” for 2021. (Yes, in my geekiness I’m a proud card-carrying member of the DF now. But there are so few lectures that a poor working gal can attend due to the time difference and work schedule! In this case, however, there’s enough time and motivation to schedule someone to cover me at work, and in true nerdy style, why not make a vacation day of it?)

But I have an odd fancy, as the new year is underway (and in spite of various other writing/research projects, my novel, work, and various fascinations) to reread all of Dickens’ major works in the order in which he wrote them, while at the same time, slowly, rereading one of my favorite books: Peter Ackroyd’s biography of Dickens.

This method of rereading presents a few choices to be made, as so many works were written with an overlapping timeline ~ Dickens would be working on finishing one piece while beginning another. I’ll probably opt for reading them in the order in which the serialization began. So, Pickwick having been started before Oliver Twist, I’d start with Pickwick, for example; and Barnaby Rudge wouldn’t begin serialization until four years later, though Dickens had been planning, considering, and promising it to publishers quite early on.

Anyhow, I suppose it can’t hurt to give it a go. All I know is, the spirit of the one and only Dickens continues to haunt me (pleasantly, of course), and I feel that this is the year ~ a hopeful year ~ to make it happen.