The Night Circus

“Rather than a single tent with rings enclosed within, this circus contains clusters of tents like pyramids, some large and others quite small. They are set within circular paths, contained within a circular fence. Looping and continuous.” 

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern is pure, undiluted magic. It contains three stories at once, overlapping and interwoven like threads of fabric, separate at the beginning but indistinguishable by the end. Le Cirque des Rêves, the main setting of the book, acts as the backdrop for a game played between Celia Bowen and Marco Alisdair, a challenge set by their mentors with unclear rules and no time limit. The two magicians are rivals, but they are not necessarily on opposite sides. The second storyline is that of Bailey Alden Clarke, a young boy proceeds to fall in love with the mystical Cirque des Rêves, and whose tale of growing up is much influenced by the circus. The third storyline, which happens to be the first one introduced, is written in second-person, as opposed to the third-person writing of the other two storylines. This describes a first-time visitor to the circus, a fresh pair of eyes viewing the glory of the circus for the very first time. With this second-person point-of-view, readers experience the circus for themselves and quickly understand the wonders of such a strange and ephemeral place.

“Everything I have done, every change I have made to that circus, every impossible feat and astounding sight, I have done for her.”

This novel is a journey in and of itself. It makes you experience the pains of rivalry tearing apart bonds, the wonder of a story well told, and the beauty that is love, in all of its forms and ages. Morgenstern’s writing is ethereal, as delicate and complicated as spun sugar. A colourful cast of characters sheds light on the different aspects of humanity, showing you pragmatists and dreamers, ordinary and unordinary all at once. You understand the subtle nuances of life, see the little cogs and gears as they slowly come together to form one well-functioning machine. You learn to appreciate the power that others may have, and how they may use it. And you gradually come to appreciate magic in all of its forms: in stories told to small groups around a fire; in tricks performed to delight large audiences; and in secrets, whispered in the dark like prayers meant to bind the souls of lovers that may only meet by candlelight. 

“Secrets have power. And that power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well. Sharing secrets, real secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them. Writing them down is worse, because who can tell how many eyes might see them inscribed on paper, no matter how careful you might be with it. So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.”