The Bartimaeus Sequence actually started as a trilogy. Written by Jonathan Stroud, the original trilogy was published from 2003 to 2005, with the books in the following order: “The Amulet of Samarkand,” “The Golem’s Eye,” and “Ptolemy’s Gate.” In 2010, Stroud released a prequel book titled “The Ring of Solomon.” Thus, the series was dubbed, by its fans, as the Bartimaeus Sequence.  It is recommended to read the sequence in order of events (the prequel book first, then the original trilogy) for a neat reading in-order. But, from experience, it is not necessary and will not ruin the experience if it is read in order of publication. Mainly because the prequel novel is self-standing and the series works well without the prequel. Plus, it hurts a little more, in a way, to read it by publication date. Unlike the many people I met through online spaces who also consumed these books, I read this series not as a kid or younger person, but as an adult. It made me cry so much I had a terrible headache for half the next day. It was absolutely worth it, and here’s why. 

The Main Characters:

The original trilogy has three protagonists, and the books change POV’s between all three of them, except for the first book, where only two of the series’ main characters, Nathaniel and Bartimaeus, are POV characters. 

Bartimaeus is a 5,000-year-old djinn — a spirit, an ancient entity, that utilizes footnotes in the best way I have ever seen in a book series, and who is very funny, witty and sad. The more you read from him — he is the only character we get first-person POV from — the more it hurts. But, he cracks jokes while revealing tragedies (some of which are his own) and it will make you laugh. He is summoned by Nathaniel, enslaved to him by virtue of said summoning, just like all djinn are to magicians who summon and bind them. There is also Ptolemy.

Nathaniel Underwood starts off as a small, ambitious 12-year-old boy, a magician’s apprentice. We learn he is traumatized by the very system he will grow to perpetrate. We follow him up to age 17, in the last book of the trilogy. He becomes a corrupt politician and is the worst teenager you have ever read about — he is also my favorite character. 

Kitty Jones starts off as a 13-year-old, of which we don’t get a POV of in the first book, just a slight mention. When we meet her fully in the second book we learn she is a revolutionary, part of a rebellious organization that seeks to fight back against the British government. The group she joins is described as a terrorist organization. She seeks revenge for an injustice. She is also, as the government Nathaniel is a part of would say, “a commoner.” We follow her until she is 18 in the last book. 

And finally, Asmira, the protagonist of the prequel novel. She is 17 throughout the novel. She fights for her queen, is loyal and badass, and brainwashed. She fights with knives! And she plans to give herself up to Solomon for her queen.  

The World Building: 

The trilogy takes place in an alternate-history London where the ruling class is made up of “magicians.” England is a massive colonial power that oppresses the working class and has some type of aristocratic government set in place. The “commoners,” the oppressed working class of which Kitty is a part, believe the magicians possess some inherent power; in reality, magicians simply use a very secret weapon: slavery. The magicians are all educated in the art of summoning and controlling spirits — dubbed “demons” by humans, which is a derogatory term towards spirits — thus enslaving them. All Western magicians of the period punish and abuse spirits into doing their bidding, a commonality that has been the case for many places and time periods over the years. This is how the magicians maintain their “power.” The system of slavery is so well developed that the oppressors themselves, the magicians, have based their whole society on it, essentially robbing themselves of humanity and policing each other. The magicians, of which Nathaniel is a part, are taught to depend on slave labor as a source of power and as an integral part of their identity. Magicians give up their names, their past, everything that individualizes and makes them, well, them, for power. And it starts as early as age 6. And yet, magicians are also taught (to extreme degrees and measures, just ask little 6-year-old Nathaniel) to fear the beings they enslave, lest they be turned on and devoured. 

The Themes:

All of these aspects work towards the themes prevalent in the trilogy. The trilogy explores themes of slavery, corrupt systems and the wealthy vs the poor. It has themes of intersectionality and revolution; critiques on British imperialism and indoctrination. It has themes of love, and sacrifice and whether it is inevitable; themes of the loss and gain of hope in humanity and in humans themselves, solely as beings. It has characters that are sad, always sad, and in denial of it. It has characters that love so deeply that in 2,000 years they have never forgotten, and characters who, in their 17 years, have barely felt loved back. It has so much hurt that it feels cynical, until you realize these characters have changed each other in ways they can never come back from, and that most of it is, or has the potential to be, good. 

I also consider this series a tragedy. It hurts so good, it genuinely does. The Bartimaeus trilogy and the sequence too, as a whole, is about people making choices in situations where they barely have the choice of doing so. It is about the urge to control because everything else is trying to control you, and how that urge to control turns into the urge to hurt and take and the need for power, even over those you care about. It is about the awfulness of realizing that the best you can do for those you care about might be to let them go, even if just a little, just enough. It is about the realization that even that is sometimes not enough. It is about loss and how to cope with it — or how not to cope with any of it at all. It is also about injustice in a world that does not care, no matter how cruel that injustice has been. Finally, it is also about trust; about how the systems and people you have grown up entrenched in cannot protect you, will in fact actively harm you, and that those you want to trust (but may never fully trust, no matter how much you care for them) may be the ones you have hurt the most. It’s about how, despite the hurt and the lack of trust, love can prevail; about how all of the things that have been listed in this section are still, sometimes, not enough. Sometimes they are too little too late. And about how that doesn’t matter, because something is better than nothing and people can change. 

This series is also very strategic, in how it makes you love, or hate, like or dislike, its main characters until even the purposefully unlikable ones end up making you cry so hard that your head pounds in pain for a whole day afterwards. It is funny because the book sequence is still, at the end of the day, a young adult/grade-school book series. It is one of the greatest fantasy “children’s” series I’ve read. 

Conclusion: 

I discovered Jonathan Stroud when I was 13, on the bookshelf of my middle-school library, where his book series about ghost-fighting teenagers trapped in a system that exploited them for it (The “Lockwood and Co.” series) rested. I followed the series until its completion, by which time five years had passed. When I was 20, in the summer of that year, I found myself bored and remembered how clever, funny and well written Jonathan Stroud’s writing is. So, finally, after having tried it once long ago, I reopened my interest in the Bartimaeus books. I know that, especially for young adults, reading books under a certain grade level is something many don’t find interest in (that in itself is, in my opinion, a blog post for another day) but sometimes you find gold in places you never would have expected. Many read this series when they were kids and it hit them, yes. But I know, after speaking with them, that it did not hit them as much as it did me. I am of the opinion that this series is better understood, appreciated and felt when read by someone old enough to truly grasp all its themes. So, please, read the Bartimaeus Sequence. Give it a try. Who cares, genuinely, what grade level it’s supposed to be. Most everyone likes a good tragedy, and this is one of the best ones I have ever read.