Illustrations by Portia Rosenberg. Bloomsbury, 768 pp, $29.95, softcover.

There is nothing small-minded about Susanna Clarke's debut novel, nearly 800 pages about the return of magic to 19th-century England. Every kind of spell seems to haunt its pages, every objection to magic is made, every sticky end catalogued. Clarke employs diverse writerly strategies (footnotes, Tolkienesque poetry, lists, dramatic irony, pathetic fallacy...). It is like Noah's ark: large, yes, and strangely capacious.

Given the ambition of its subject matter, then, and the punishing width of its spine, it's odd how little actually happens. There are magical duels, a curse of perpetual darkness, spells of containment, of invisibility, of protection. Wars are aided by occult practices while human hostages are forced to dance night after night in Faerie. Mirrors are breached. Bones ground and drunk. Yet the caulk that surrounds these glittering moments is regular old reading. England's last two magicians--the proud and secretive Mr. Norrell and his affable, ambitious protégé, Jonathan Strange--are mad for literature, and the getting and perusing of books play a pivotal role throughout. In presenting the bloodless study of magic, Clarke has been perhaps too successful.

There are, though, chapters of adventure and mystery, and the care with which she constructs her meticulous plot and arranges her bibliomaniacal characters here pays off (a deus ex machina ending notwithstanding).

Jonathan Strange has received already an astonishing amount of attention, in part for the decade it took to write (how long should a novel take?) and in part for its unusual form. (Does no one read Tristram Shandy anymore?) None of this is Clarke's fault, nor should her prolixity be held against her. "I am not one of those miserly authors who measure out their words to the last quarter ounce..." a character says with a sniff. "I have thrown the doors of my warehouse wide open and that all my learning is up for sale. My readers may stroll about and chuse at their leisure."

Despite sore wrists and drooping lids, I find myself appalled and excited in equal measure by the sequel its open ending invites.

Susanna Clarke appears on October 21 (Waterfront Theatre, 8 p.m.), 22 (CBC Vancouver, noon), and 23 (Arts Club Revue Theatre, 10:30 a.m.).