Goodness, we’re already in our third week of 2026 (or I guess second full week), and I’m happy to say we’ve got another book review ready! Here we go . . .

The Amulet of Samarkand feels like it has lived on my bookshelf for ages, and yet I’ve never seen fit to review it. The book came out in 2003, which is presumably around the time that I originally read it. Goodreads shows me finally ‘shelving’ the book in 2011 (I assume this is when I first made a goodreads account?).

I only gave it two stars.

Not really sure why as, upon my 2025 reread, I felt like it’s at least as good as any of the ‘four star’ reads I finished recently. I clearly liked the book enough to buy its sequel, The Golem’s Eye, although there’s an index card left inside at page 144 of that book and no sign from goodreads that I ever finished it. Clearly I was feeling some kind of way about the series by that point.

I’ll admit that I was not, and am still not, really familiar with any of Jonathan Stroud’s work before the Bartimaeus Series or since, though a quick Google search has shown me that he has written quite a few more books, perhaps the most prominent among them being the Lockwood & Co. children’s series, which has been announced as a series on Netflix.

Mostly I thought the book was good although I was often surprised at how shitty Nathaniel was with regards to commoners and social stratification. Obviously this is his upbringing, but I’m not really sure it’s addressed meaningfully within the story. Bartimaeus tells him not to lose his conscience, but it didn’t really seem like he had one to begin with (or at least only felt he needed to when it was someone he liked).

Also, Nathaniel is mainly driven to action by wanting revenge. Whether it’s small embarrassments at the hands of other more powerful magicians, or (slight spoiler) when an important figure in his life is killed (it’s Mrs. Underwood, she’s essentially fridged). Considering this book is ostensibly for kids, I was kind of surprised to find these themes so prominent within the text, and also, not really admonished in the way I assume they would be today. However, I think it’s around this age range that kids in the U.S. begin reading Greek Myths in school. This is certainly no worse than those.

Bartimaeus is a fun and funny narrator though, and overall the adventure and magic are enough to produce suitable awe for an enjoyable experience. The Amulet of Samarkand isn’t bursting at the seems with awe and magic in the same way as say Impossible Creatures, but there is plenty of wonder to be had within its pages.

The story takes place mainly in London, however the magic and lore seem to derive primarily from Islamic and Jewish folklore. Any fans of the Daevabad series will recognize slightly altered versions of — listed in order of power — Marid, Afrit, and Djinn. Foliot was a new term for me, and many mythologies seem to have different kinds of Imps running around, but it was interesting to see them in this context.

Obviously the most mysterious and interesting (read frustratingly opaque) pieces of ‘lore’ in the book is none other that of the narrator Bartimaeus himself, who hints and teases at his past but never seems to really reveal anything concrete.

I was curious about what Stroud’s inspiration for the character might have been, but was worried that if I looked up author interviews and the like, I might get spoilers, so I tried to figure some of it out on my own . . . with honestly very little success. If you’re interested, I’ve saved what I was able to discover for the end of the review so you can read it after the conclusion . . . Which I guess I can do now!

Give The Amulet of Samarkand a read?

Sure! I’m honestly not sure why I rated this one so low when I read it all those years ago. Who knows what was going on in the mind of 13 year old me. As an adult, I’d say this is a pretty great read for anyone who is just getting into Fantasy and doesn’t mind reading books written for younger audiences. Bartimaeus is funny, and there’s lots of cool magic and worldbuilding to delve into.

There’s also a surprising amount of things to digest surrounding social stratification and dynamics between different social classes. Overall, I’d say the book is against it, but Nathaniel seems pretty caught up in it, which is an interesting tac. I’m also slightly uncertain how much there is to unpack in the book’s focus on (and borrowing from) Islamic and Jewish folklore, but remaining firmly set in London. I assume the commentary is supposed to be shining a light at past abuses, not simply repeating them.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this book before? The series? Any of Stroud’s other work? What folkloric elements do you hope to see included in the sequels? Which of your favorites did you find in The Amulet of Samarkand?

See you next time! And if you’re interested in reading a little more about what I could dig up surrounding Bartimaeus, please continue reading!

Who is Bartimaeus?

So, one of the more fascinating parts of reading this book, was how Stroud chose to weave this somewhat mysterious figure of the djinn Bartimaeus through history (honestly somewhat reminiscent of B from BRZRKR comics only these books obviously have a much lighter tone).

My initial research just involved googling the name and trying to make out where it came from, or if it meant anything which could give us a hint as to just who this Bartimaeus figure is. I learned that:

• Bartimaeus could be Greek or Aramaic for “son of Timaeus” (which means honorable)
• Bartimaeus is a character from the bible.

One bit of information which seems to keep appearing as the story progresses, is a reference to an “Egyptian Boy”, who was apparently his master (but more likely also a friend). Bartimaeus takes his shape throughout the story many times and seems to feel that doing so honors him.

The boy referenced might be a young Claudius Ptolemy, a Greco-Roman mathematician who lived in Alexandria Egypt during Roman rule.

He’s the Ptolemy referenced in ‘Ptolemy’s theorem‘ in the ‘See Also’ section on the wikipedia page for ‘Pentacles‘, which play a huge role in protecting magicians from demons in Stroud’s work.

Ptolemy was mistakenly listed as a Pharaoh. Famous for writing the Almagest, a treatise that canonized a geocentric model of the solar system (essentially earth being the center of the universe) for like 1200 years until Copernicus came along. He was familiar with Babylonian observations and lunar theory and — here’s where I think we get closest to a positive hit — he’s often referred to by Arabic astronomers, geographers, and physicists in Arabic as Batlumyus.

It would seem that in Stroud’s universe, Ptolemy and Bartimaeus are not one and the same, but a master and djinn pair, with the djinn taking on the role of a mysterious figure from history known as Syrus. A doctoral thesis from Universitat de Barcelona states:

“In half of his extant works, Ptolemy addresses a certain Syrus, a figure of whom almost nothing is known but who likely shared some of Ptolemy’s astronomical interests.” — Tolsa Domènech, Cristian (2013). Claudius Ptolemy and self-promotion: A study on Ptolemy’s intellectual milieu in Roman Alexandria (PDF) (Doctoral thesis). Universitat de Barcelona. S2CID 1912971

Bartimaeus also mentions Solomon quite frequently. The ‘See Also’ section of the wikipedia page on pentacles also references the Seal (or Ring) of Solomon:

“In mystic Jewish lore, the ring is variously described as having given Solomon the power to command the supernatural, including shedim and jinn, and also the ability to speak with animals”.

I still need to read some more on the Seal of Solomon to figure out exactly how it fits, however it seems promising as the sequel’s title — The Golem’s Eye — seems to reference Jewish folklore directly, and the last book in the series is called Ring of Solomon.

That’s all I’ve managed for now. Let me know if anything else is sticking out to you specifically, but of course please try to avoid spoilers, I’ve only finished the first book!