Author: Jonathan Stroud
Publisher: Scholastic
Binding: Paperback
Publication Date: September 2003

The juvenile Fantasy rage continues and it’s really quite remarkable to watch. Every week one will see a new offering targeting the Harry Potter fan-base, some of which are in my opinion admittedly better than JK Rowling’s industry outlook changing giant, such as Philip Pullman’s incredible work His Dark Materials, and others that are solid entities in their own right, like for example my recently reviewed Garth Nix’s efforts Mister Monday and Grim Tuesday. However for every wonderfully engaging, thoughtful efforts like Neil Gaiman’s Coraline, or Clive Barker’s Abarat there remains a myriad of other novels and series that seem not only dependent on the Potter phenomena, which is not a negative, that’s just opportunistic, but seem compelled to limit themselves in the same mold as Rowling’s work yet never being remotely close in the same vein in the one that category that matters - quality. I’m certainly nothing near a ‘Potter Head’, however, I do think it is a solid series (particularly Rowling’s latter efforts), which is why I always find it amusing when I read reviews that inevitably have remarks like “move over Potter” or the like. Which brings me to the subject of this review, The Amulet of Samarkand, Book One of the Bartimaeus Trilogy, written by Jonathan Stroud. Some questionable novels sell well and get remarkably good fan reviews (See Eragon), and while I don’t consider this novel dire, I just cannot fathom what would prompt the numerous glowing reviews I have read for The Amulet of Samarkand.

Stroud’s chosen setting for the novel is London (where else?) at a time when England was a powerful nation, and its entire government is made up of Magicians. Non-magicians are labeled “commoners”. Stroud conveys the story exclusively through two different points of view, one from that of Nathaniel, a mage-apprentice and one from the perspective of a Djinni the trilogy’s namesake, Bartimaeus. In Stroud’s world, established Magicians take on apprenticesnot their own offspring, and Nathaniel is no different. In this case, Nathaniel’s common parents sold him to the government, and he was assigned to Arthur Underwood a magician of some position and tenure if not bountiful respect from his peers or blessed with overwhelming ability and his subservient, kind-hearted, wife Martha Underwood. The selling of children is illustrated to be quite common, which goes along with never seeing the original parents again and Stroud explains this with one of the few interesting aspects of the novel. Stroud’s magic system is set up rather simplistically, rather like I envision Pokemon, and although magicians are capable of offensive and defensive spells, the true nature of their power is the ability to summon. More powerful magicians can summon more powerful levels beings to attack, spy, guard, or whatever they desire. The ability to summon, and what you can command safely is regarded as the measuring stick of power in Stroud’s world. For instance the Prime Minister of England has teh ability to summon an Afrit, which Bartimaeus explains to us out of the commonly used creatures a very powerful summoning second in power on his list which in descending order goes Marids, Afrits, Djinn, Foliots and Imps. Bartimaeus points out there are a huge number of classifications below Imps, but mentions they are largely unused, and several classifications that are more powerful than Marids but are hardly ever used due to the extreme danger in doing so. A magician can summon as many beings as he or she wishes as long as they have the knowledge and expertise to summon them, and more imortantly control them. Failure in the latter means death. Magicians defend themselves in a number of ways, including spells, drawings etc, and generally summons do as their bidden, largely powerless, just so they can be dismissed quicker and be on their way. THE major rule that all magicians are told is to never allow a summoning to glean your birth name from you or anyone else. The repercussions of having one’s birth name compromised is the Magician losing the ability to control a summons, and is in essence are left on equal terms with a summoning which in the majority of cases is heavily slanted in the summon’s favor. This is the reasoning for apprentices not being with their birth parents or ever seeing them again, as magicians upon turning sixteen are given a new name, and until then, they are called by the last name of their master, to insure confidentiality of their true name thus protecting them.

The Amulet of Samarkand’s plot is as one would suspect, rather simplistic. Nathaniel was once slighted, embarrassed, and chastised by two magicians at a gathering being hosted by his Master. The magician chiefly responsible for Nathaniel’s lecture was Simon Lovelace, who fills the role as Stroud’s antagonist. Nathaniel, never forgetting the slight, educates himself more expediently than his Master knows, and summons a being that should be beyond his scope, Bartimaeus. He charges Bartimaeus to steal an artifact (The Amulet of Samarkand) from Lovelace, that he has seen in his possession by magical surveillance. What Nathaniel doesn’t know, is that Lovelace recently acquired the artifact himself through rather extreme channels, and was planning on using it in a plan to consolidate and expand his own personal political power and influence in English Parliament. I would love to break this down even further but truly that’s the plot in its entirety. There are only two characters in the novel given and amount of extensive time or care in the novel, and that may be an overstatement as it is.

I noted the two perspectives Stroud uses for his narrative, and I’ll start with by far the most entertaining, and what is honestly the half of the novel I found worthwhile, that being Bartimaeus. Stroud switches POV’s from chapter to chapter and Bartimaeus’s are written in the first person. Bartimaeus is a Djinni. A Djinni is a race of spirits chronicled in Islamic religions and Semitic mythology. The terms is interchangeable with the Arabic Jinni, which most of us are familiar with from ‘The Arabian Nights’, or perhaps others with Disney’s ‘Aladdin’. Bartimaeus is a fun, confident and witty character, whether reflecting on past historical events he was privy to (he missed out on Atlantis, he was at Egypt at the time) or his constant sarcasm directed at everyone. Bartimaeus provides a nice avenue for Stroud to explain magic, magicians, summons, and several other insights based on his observations. In fact the overwhemling majority of the enjoyable segments of The Amulet of Samarkand are contained in the often-whimsical footnotes found in the Bartimaeus chapters, as well as the vast majority of the execution of the plot is told in the Bartimaeus chapters (excluding the very end).

Nathaniel is simply the subject of one of the least enjoyable, uneventful, reading in regards to a major character in recent memory for me(especially considering there are only 2 characters to speak of). He is just not interesting, and is ultimately useless during the entire novel unless in possession of an item anyone could make use of. It is true, that he is depicted as beyond his years in his understanding of magic application, but as I said magicians are limited in Stroud’s setting anyway to summons. The entire premise of the story is based on Nathaniel seeking revenge on Simon Lovelace for really a very petty and trivial circumstance. Sure he was embarrassed, but his reaction seems almost psychotic in nature. You go through the story supposing to feel empathy for him, being sold by his parents, a demanding master, embarrassed at a gathering of peers and betters, and is shown compassion by only one character, Martha Underwood, and yet upon reading the novel, I find I feel no compassion for the character, as he exhibits no redeeming qualities - and worse yet he is not interesting, nor is his plight. He is immature, full of himself, and unaware he’s an elitist snot (which is actually a pretty good spin on the characterization, as it fits the world). I found myself enjoying his suffering when it occurred in the novel. Even at the conclusion of the novel, his actions are just pathetic in nature (regarding his dramatic nature, and explanation of events). Because of this, I found half the novel rather bland, and a chore to maintain any semblance of interest in.

Honestly, the book rises and falls with Bartimaeus, and because he is the only source of interest in the entire novel, even his chapters started wearing on me toward the latter portions of the novel, hwoever, I will count him as a positive in the novel, and the only one. Lovelace never earned my interest, or my respect during the course of the novel, which is essential for a novel’s antagonist. The support characters are not at all given any semblance of depth except as subjects that affected Nathaniel. Arthur, who exhibits his yellow stripes in the novel, is used as an educational experience on how men of power (magicians) really are, as told by Lovelace:

“There is no honor, nobility, or justice. Every magician acts for himself, seizing each opportunity he can. When he is weak he avoids danger-which is why second raters plod away within the system. Arthur knows all about that, don’t you Underwood? But when he is strong he strikes”

Martha Underwood serves what he thinks is his conscience, but is truly the sole embodiment of his guilt. There are some other summons’ that are mildly entertaining but are so due to Bartimaeus dialogue with them. In the story Stroud seems to be setting up a storyline for his next novel of a “commoner” uprising against the Magicians sporadically in the novel and these instances in the novel don’t add anything to the reading experience of The Amulet of Samarkand, but seem exclusively added just to foreshadow future events for the next installment of the trilogy. The depiction of the already limited magic is frankly forgettable. In one scene, out of nowhere, a magician shoots a “plasma bolt”, which at the time of reading was rather shocking after being told the power of a magician is largely based on summons, and was told earlier the summons is what separates Magicians from common tricksters and charlatans. I was wondering why others had not used it earlier, in other situations where such an offensive tool would have proven quite handy. Another scene, in which we are witnessing a huge portal with a tremendously powerful creature (one that had even Bartimaeus, unusually rather in awe) coming through, and it was written with such lack of flare and imagination, I simply wanted it to hurry up and come through so I wouldn’t have suffer through reading what was apparently supposed to be am ominous and dramatic entrance. When finally appearing, the creature (which Bartimaeus estimated took several powerful magicians to summon) was hardly worth it.

Although not terrible, I think there are much better choices on the shelves for young readers, some of which I mentioned above. I liked the character of Bartimaeus, but not enough to buy the second installment of the series, which would shock you if you took a look at the plethora of wonderful Five-Star reviews on Amazon.

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Topics: Bartimaeus Trilogy, Children's Books, Jonathan Stroud, Scholastic, The Amulet of Samarkand