The Amulet of Samarkand imagines an Earth where, since the beginning of civilization, Human magicians have summoned spirits from the Other Place as slaves. As such, functional magic takes the place of modern technology in the present day. The tyrannical magicians have always been the ruling class, having learned from an early age how to do things the "commoners" could never understand. Oh, and it's awesome.Twelve year old Nathaniel is a magician's apprentice in London, capital of the British Empire, when he gets brutally humiliated by the magician Simon Lovelace, his life ruined. Nathaniel then decides to summon the title character, the five thousand and ten year old djinni Bartimaeus, and charges him with the task of stealing the Amulet of Samarkand from Lovelace. But this is Bartimaeus he's dealing with.You'll find many half-baked complaints about The Amulet of Samarkand. Some say that none of the characters are really likable or relatable. Sure, that's true enough, Nathaniel was mercilessly controlling Bartimaeus to get revenge on another magician, and Bartimaeus wanted to get free as soon as possible so as to exact his own vengeance. All the while there were other spirits or magicians or even commoners getting in the way for their own opposing purposes. But how is that a bad thing? What matters is if you're interested in what's going to happen, and I know I was.The book alternates between third-person with Nathaniel and first-person with Bartimaeus. At first, I thought the Nathaniel sections would be a drag, but the boy actually encapsulated my attention. He's a quick learning, calculating, frustrated kid mistreated by his master Underwood. What Lovelace did to Nathaniel was surprisingly tragic, and I could relate to the little ankle-biter.Now, I don't usually like first-person. It is often done with a flat character that makes me feel like I'm talking to a very stupid version of myself. But this was far, far from the case when it came to Bartimaeus, who is one of the greatest characters I have ever come across. His narration caught me off guard in the first chapter and I had to stop and laugh out loud. No really. The footnotes that Bartimaeus often puts at the bottom of the page to offer some humor and explain the alternate world the story takes place in information. While snide and loathing, he is also a very obviously weary being. Having dealt with magicians for thousands of years, he now hates them and successfully stereotypes them. If he ever had any hopes for one, he has no certainly given up on any sort of future. He has always been a slave, and he sure he will continue to be one. All he can do in poke fun at his situation. His ancient memories result in some truly interesting thoughts, like his references to his times in Egypt and his relationship with Ptolemy.People have complained about the footnotes too, saying that they are too confusing and distracting. Remember then, that this book is for an older audience, and also that the footnotes are integral to the book and Bartimaeus's character. This brings me to another point: the fictional world. Jonathan Stroud's world is basically just like ours, but with one key difference: there is magic. His take on the spirits is logical and practically sci-fi, and his world-building is rigorous and internally consistent. Everything is extremely believable, and a lot of the fictional world is based on Arabic folklore. With the magician's rule comes themes about the Human condition and governmental corruption. The magicians' oligarchy is really only a system that is there to benefit the people who found themselves within its order. The novel raises a lot of moral questions that I think it intentionally doesn't answer.So there you have it, like I said, The Bartimaeus Trilogy: The Amulet of Samarkand is one of the best novels I've ever read. I was only slightly interested in it when I heard about it, but I'm glad I bought it. It was an awesome read and I urge you to check it out if you're intrigued in any way, shape, or form.9 out of 10