I must admit I am having a love affair, with Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus. It was the last thing I was immersed in before falling asleep. When I awoke in the middle of the night, I read for several hours. Upon first opening my eyes this morning, I was reading this book again.
I think my husband is beginning to suspect things.
In an attempt to explain my infatuation to my husband he asked if I wanted to, “eat it up.” I corrected him; I want to be swallowed whole into the world that is Le Cirques de Rėves. The unexpected use of the second person allows this world to envelope you wholly in short excerpts scattered throughout the narrative. As you become the character wandering amidst the black and white striped tents that Morgenstern, a multimedia artist by day, visually creates around you the inhabitants of the circus unfold in their intertwining stories. Each character is so delectably created that they reflect back on the reader a part of themselves that they didn’t realize anyone else could fathom, as if the entire book is the Hall of Mirrors and the reader is trapped.
Exquisitely written in a language that feels as though it is painted with the strokes of an artist, the format of each chapter seems subtly engineered to mimic the function of a carnival ride as it approaches its climax.
I must admit…I have not finished yet. I am torn between wanting to stay ensconced in The Night Circus forever, or find out what the ultimate fate of my fellow artists and dreamers will be.
Either way, my husband will have to wait for me. I am dressed in black and white with a splash of red, and I am off to join the circus.
I am a revėur, are you?