A novel has not struck a chord in my like The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern did since I read one of my forever, favorites The Time Traveller’s Wife. Morgenstern captivates you with her intrensic ability to paint a picture with words. The image of the circus’s clock, scents of caramel and popcorn wafting through the air, and dizzying black and white tents intoxicated me during the week I read it.
“The circus looks abandoned and empty. But you think perhaps you can smell caramel wafting through the evening breeze, beneath the crisp scent of the autumn leaves. A subtle sweetness at the edges of the cold.”
This is a love story, but not what you expect. It is a love story that explores the theme of connections between people, dreams, and places, not just man and woman. I particularly enjoyed this because it explored the idea of how we can also be propelled by and binded to experiences instead of the exhausted romanticizing of love affairs.
“They are enthusiasts, devotees. Addicts. Something about the circus stirs their souls, and they ache for it when it is absent. They seek each other out, these people of such specific like mind. They tell of how they found the circus, how those first few steps were like magic. Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars… When they depart, they shake hands and embrace like old friends, even if they have only just met, and as they go their separate ways they feel less alone than they had before.”
I too am now Un Rêveur of Erin Morgenstern’s imagination.