Virginia Ronan ♥ Herondale ♥'s Reviews > The Night Circus

“How can I excel at a game when you refuse to tell me the rules?”

I guess “The Night Circus” is one of those books that make it especially hard to write a proper review and if I’m entirely honest I have to admit that I don’t even know where to start. It was unlike any other book I’ve ever read and therefore the usual structure of my reviews just doesn’t seem to be appropriate, let alone to fit.

”I would have written you, myself, if I could put down in words everything I want to say to you. A sea of ink would not be enough.”

To use it for such a particular book would be as good as impossible and since I’m no part of “Le Cirque des Rêves” all I’m able to do is to resort to the written word and to hope that it will suffice to convey all of my diverse emotions. And heaven knows there are plenty of them. ;-)

”There’s emotion,” she says. “Deep emotion but you are only on the shore of it, still near the surface, while it is waiting to pull you under.”

Just like Herr Thiessen I shall forever be a “Rêveur”, a Dreamer who looks at “The Night Circus” with wide eyes, getting lost in the intoxicating smell of the impossible and wonderful. I will wear my red scarf and explore the mysteries of this incredible and lovely place and as I walk down those countless tents and see all the different signs, I’ll pray that it will never lose its charm.
Because places like that are special. They rarely or barely exist in the dull light of our daily world, the knowledge we soon will have to leave this venue only igniting our wish to stay.

”Why haven’t you asked me how I do my tricks?” Celia asks, once they have reached the point where she is certain he is not simply being polite about the matter.
Friedrick considers the question thoroughly before he responds.
“Because I do not wish to know,” he says. “I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.”

We want to experience the magic, want to marvel at its beauty and strangeness, at its impossibility and rareness.

”She is radiant. For a moment, while they look at each other, he cannot remember what he is meant to be doing, or why she is handing him a piece of paper with the number twenty-three written on it in his own handwriting.”

The love between Celia and Marco is a never ending well of creativity, sweeping us off our feet, making us long for more. The details of their creations are incredible, the love and dedication they put into their work so delightful that we can’t help but get lost in their tents. Each night we try to explore another one, sometimes we end up returning to those we already know.

”I only hope that was as pleasurable a sensation for you as it was for me.”

To be one of the “Rêveurs” is a constant struggle, a never ending fight to find a balance between exploration and devotion. We want to indulge ourselves in the familiar, yet at the same time we want to surrender to the new. At a place that’s made to be impossible literally everything seems to be feasible as long as you’re willing to give it a try.

”Am I close enough for your illusion?” she asks.
“If I say no, will you come closer?” he retaliates, not bothering to hide his grin.

The only thing that never bends is time itself though. It slips through your fingers while you explore the circus, while you get lost in so many people’s dreams. It runs out before you even know it, the intricate dancing clock merciless as it continues to tick.

”You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words.”

You’re too distracted to pay any attention to your surroundings though, too preoccupied with the performance of the red-haired twins. As the sun finally begins to rise, you realise that you have neither visited “The Ice Garden” nor “The Cloud Maze”. There’s only enough time left to do one more thing and you barely thought it before you’re already standing in front of the last tent you’re going to visit tonight.

“The Wishing Tree” is spreading its branches into endless night, countless candles flickering in the dim light. “Let me return to the circus.” You plead as you light another candle, feverishly hoping and praying your wish might come true…

”All around him, lights are popping to life along the tents, flickering like fireflies.”


Artist Credit: kemurai6 @ DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/kemurai6