I am not a rabid fan of fairy-and-magic fantasy. Actually, I avoid it. I am so easily confused by those things that that the average fantasy reader already knows about – oh, so that character can magically levitate? And perform magical vanishing tricks? And we must refer to her at all times as a “Faerie”, even if we hate Edmund Spenser and that spelling always gives us hives?  It makes me feel all irritable.

The big, nine-hundred-page exception to this mild aversion is Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which is one of my favorite books ever. The footnotes! The characters! The historical references! The creepy pictures! I love that book, and I didn’t have an easy time leaving it in storage when I left the US – even the “Faeries”, and there are many, don’t bug me.

          I was so happy to find a copy of Clarke’s more recent short-story collection, The Ladies of Grace Adieu, that I broke my one-new-book-per-month rule and snapped it up. It’s a short book, especially compared to Jonathan Strange, and with far fewer footnotes and authorial asides, it reads much more quickly.

Also, it’s funny; parts of John Uskglass and the Cumbrian Charcoal Burner, where a powerful magician is stumped by a hermit and his toasted cheese, had me giggling out loud. The delicate, Austen-esque females of the title story are delicious, with their intrigues and stratagems. Even the weighty introduction, (“by Professor James Sutherland, Director of Sidhe Studies, University of Aberdeen”) is a delight.

Clarke’s especial genius lies not in the magic and fairies, but in how well-rooted the fantasy aspects of the story are; through historical reference and abundant period detail she makes them seem almost anchored into English history. And, while it’s not as meticulous as Jonathan Strange, The Ladies of Grace Adieu is just as self-assured, and very entertaining.

           In conclusion, Concerned Reader, I must now get all weighty and moral and say, Even if you really loathe a genre, you should dip your toes in once in a while; the worst that can happen is that you’ll pick something that reinforces any dislike you had, and you will have a funny story to tell your friends (“I read the worst book the other day…”). Or, who knows, maybe you’ll find your new favorite author. Open-mindedness! It’s the book-connoisseur’s best friend.