JK Rowlings meets Jane Austen with a side order of Tolkienian ideological undertones, and then quite more.

I have a particular gripe: my recent reads in Regency settings are Pride & Prejudice and the Patrick O'Brian series, and in JS&MN I missed the extremes of convoluted dialogue and wittiness I've come to expect from the setting. Those parts that you reread a few times not because you didn't get them, but because you need to revel again in their sheer brilliance are missing here. No lady in JS&MN can hold her own against a Lizzy Bennet or Diana Villiers. No one rants and retorts like  Mr. Bennet or Maturin. The servants and folk peole pale in the shade of Killick.

Now, that said, there was a lot to like. The footnotes were a great touch: you are clearly reading one of those "books about magic" that are talked about all the time, and the final crescendo of crazyness is quite powerful compared to the placid, bureaucratic tone of the norrellite magic that dominates the story up until everyone goes all ahoo.