The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories (Susanna Clarke)

Genre: Short stories
Year Published: 2006

If you haven't read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, dear readers, I tell you now in no uncertain terms: go find it. Pick it up secondhand, find it at a library, I don't care. Find it and read it.

All done? (I imagine you've been gone for several weeks, dear reader; the book does loom on 800 pages. How are you? How's the family been? Good? Good.) Now we can talk about The Ladies of Grace Adieu.

As you now know, England is a magical place, and fairies are capricious beasts who meddle in human affairs without compunction. This collection of seven short stories illuminates seven different occasions upon which the world of humans and the world of fairies clashed, and with what results. (The author seems to be quite biased towards humans, thankfully.)

(Even as I'm composing this review, I'm cognizant of how Clarke's impeccable British faux-eighteenth-century diction has crept into my writing patterns, leaving me to get my point across with big words and complicated grammatical structures. But no matter: if need be, I will sacrifice my newfangled prose in service of praising her.)

The Ladies of Grace Adieu is not flawless; I didn't even enjoy all the stories. The title story was all right, but I thought it was too oblique to hold the opening slot, and it was disappointing to see Jonathan Strange himself given such a bit part. I was not particularly fond of "On Lickerish Hill," the second offering, which cast back in time before the Jonathan Strange era, so the reader must parse words like "alwaies" and "owd" ("always" and "old," for those not well-versed in Elizabethan English). That would be forgivable were the story not an utterly predictable retread of "Rumpelstiltskin," and not the most amusing one, at that.

But the collection picks up nicely in the middle. We get work that's more original: though "Mrs Mabb" hearkens back to the second (less dark) half of "Tam Lin," it's different enough that it works on Clarke's terms. "The Duke of Wellington Misplaces His Horse" is an absolute delight, and "Mr Simonelli or the Fairy Widower" (the longest of them all) is fun, since we experience a realization that there are fairies, and that they are mostly malevolent, through the eyes of an entirely average clergyman. "Tom Brightwind or How the Fairy Bridge Was Built at Thorseby" finishes off the middle section with a bang: it is the only time in the volume we see fairies and humans at anything approaching equal footing, and the magic that Tom Brightwind utilizes is very funny to watch in action.

The book peters out a little disappointingly: there is a short tale about Mary Queen of Scots that doesn't amount to much, and it ends with "John Uskglass and the Cumbrian Charcoal Burner," which, as it's about the Raven King, is certainly interesting, but it's supposed to be a fairy tale (in the usual sense), and as such is a little too simplistic (though it is funny).

If there's anything that really made me sad about the collection, it's that we are not given even a hint of resolution on the issues that were left unsettled at the end of Jonathan Strange. I have no desire to spoil anything for those who haven't lived between those covers yet, but suffice it to say that the uncertain circumstances at that novel's end are made no less uncertain by this book. We can only hope she writes more on that subject in the future.

I will say this: Grace Adieu desperately made me want to reread Jonathan Strange. So that's what I'm doing now, though I imagine I'll have to intersperse other books if I want to keep up any sort of regular schedule on this blog. One of the bluestocking's superpowers is being able to read many books at once, though, so I'll be fine.

Recommended? Only as a follow-up to Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell; if you've read that one, then make this your next read!