At night my head is filled with a circus of its own. Last night, I dreamed of being up at bat, a co-worker getting someone’s digits, and man, I’m sure I was at my old Catholic school at some point. I don’t have golden dreams where I am at peace, sun beating down on my face, unicorns prancing alongside tiny, purple nymphs. Even finishing The Night Circus right before I went to sleep did not make my dreams black and white.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgensten is not the next Harry Potter. Though one may want to enter the world of Hogwarts, one cannot be sure The Night Circus is a bargain of the same nature.  It is a lemon sour opportunity.

Thrust into her father’s life, Celia becomes part of a challenge about which she knows very little. The reader follows her growth as an “enchanter” and that of the other contestant in this challenge right through the creation of the Night Circus. On the ever shifting stage of Night Circus Celia and her competitor perform and create for each other. The problem is that these two are not alone; other people’s lives are altered to make the circus possible. This is okay if one likes the illusion or the thing to which one is tethered in this fashion. “We are all involved in your game, and it seems we are not as easily repaired as teacups,” a founder tells Celia (256).

Morgenstern’s book is a thing of beauty, but would living within the Night Circus be a joy forever (sorry, Keats)? This is an adult tale (without risque content) which pricks at the reader’s philosophy. Hard to resist another pass through it–that is the curse and the blessing of this book.