Book review: The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

'Zachary Ezra Rawlins stares at the miniature versions of the same symbols he once contemplated in an alleyway behind his mother's store and wonders how, exactly, he is supposed to continue a story he didn't know he was in.'

It's very difficult to review this book, with its ever-shifting plot, layers upon layers of myth and story, symbolism that leads you down hallways and rabbit-holes to eventually disappear and leave you scratching your head. It's like quicksand, or perhaps honey.

Much like The Night Circus, The Starless Sea is primarily an exercise in beautiful descriptive writing, something which I admit made it hard for me to enjoy The Night Circus at first. I found it a bit overblown and self-indulgent, until the plot got going in the second half and it eventually came close to being a five star read. Its cousin The Starless Sea, however, had more plot from the start and so I think has the edge. Granted, that plot moves in circles and hides within itself and drags you about by the collar, but it was there.

I absolutely love the concept of the doors which lead one to the Sea - who doesn't dream of finding a mysterious door to a secret magical place as a child? And the fact that Zachary finds that magical door, and chooses not to open it, is the perfect gambit for this novel which eats tropes and stories for breakfast.

Zachary Ezra Rawlins (as almost every sentence begins) is a great character. It's perhaps jarring, for fans of The Night Circus, to read a novel by the same author which has its feet so thoroughly in the present day, in the real world. Zachary is a college student who goes to bars, plays Skyrim, and likes Harry Potter. None of your steampunk Victorian circuses here. He's also very gay and I love him a lot.

Despite his early mistake (or is it?) in neglecting the magical portal that appeared before him as a child, he is drawn rapidly into an intrigue of secret library books, masked balls with literary references galore, mysterious (handsome) men, and oh, just another world hiding below the surface of the earth, filled with books, and more books. And more books. And...

From there things really do move in less a linear line, more an endless concentric circle or spiral or one of those Escher paintings that couldn't physically work in three dimensions. We are not only reading Zachary's story but other collections of tales, myths, snippets from other lives which may or may not relate to the central plot (if there is such a thing).

The interspersed stories from other books that Zachary discovers within the novel are ingenious: beautifully written, they sound like fairytales you might have heard once but have forgotten over time, and all seem strangely interrelated as if there is a hidden layer of story inside the narrative about Zachary. It's like one big palimpsest, and you can just sense the glee (perhaps even an evil cackle) it must have given Morgenstern to confound her readers thus.

However, I did find myself in a real reading slump during this book despite really enjoying the main plot and the little chapters. I wonder if this is slightly because the interwoven fairy tales and legends break up the pace a little too much. I love a slow burn, but at a third of the way through, I was still feeling like there wasn't much burning going on. I was interested and enchanted, but didn't get that drive to keep picking it up and reading the next chapter and the next and the next...but languid though my pace may have been, I'm ultimately very happy I read the novel slowly. This definitely isn't something you could whisk through if you're hoping to have any understanding whatsoever of what is actually happening.

I liked Zachary and Dorian very much, but must admit I struggled with Mirabel: with her brightly coloured hair, book-character outfits and use of overly floral language when simple sentences would do ('the weather is so poetry' was what really put me off) she seems specifically designed to appeal to, or perhaps almost parody, 'that' American bibliophile girl who probably has a bookstagram and a BookTube and at least one Harry Potter tattoo and longs to work in Barnes and Noble. And I'm a bookseller, so I can say that.

This description is also slightly true of Cat, Zachary's friend who ultimately takes up the gauntlet of bringing the narrative back from the many-layered depths to The Real World. But I was pleased to see The Real World, and Cat, when they popped up again and found her detective work quite fun to read.

The symbols of the sword, key, and bee seem perfectly chosen: not only are they easily replicated on everything from dust jackets to merchandise and tattoos, they are currently rather in vogue (what can't one get with a bee emblazoned on it these days?). I can see people being drawn to one perhaps in the same way you might choose a Hogwarts house. I'm not totally sure I understand the orders to which they relate, but I've only read it once so give me a chance.

Ultimately, this is pure bookish porn for bibliophiles; an ecstasy of self-consciously book-loving word-play for anyone who has an interest in fairy tales, myths, and fables, or has ever wished to climb into the wardrobe or through the looking glass to some enchanted place where rules do not apply. As Zachary might be able to tell you, it's not always as magical as you'd expect. It may make absolutely no sense, or all the sense in the world, depending on how much you've been paying attention and which gaps your imagination chooses to fill.

All I can say is that I'm really looking forward to reading it many more times, and hopefully catching a glimpse of the truth to all these stories as it whisks around the corner looking suspiciously like a girl with rabbit ears.

My rating: 4 stars

Thank you to Harvill Secker at Vintage for the gifted proof copy.