By Kelsey Liebenson-Morse
The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.
The opening lines of Erica Morgenstern’s debut novel, The Night Circus, are like the book itself: sometimes unbelievable, but an altogether entrancing, magical, fantastical delight for the senses. What Morgenstern lacks in continuative plot development, she more than compensates for with pure, imaginative delight. Nothing is out of the question in The Night Circus, entire memories (scent included) are captured in bottles, gardens are sculpted from ice, an...
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