So. I just finished reading The Magicians by Lev Grossman. Considering the amount of time I spend on the lovely Metra these days, I can't go long without a good book. The very day after I finished the Stieg Larsson series, I walked over to Waldenbooks in Ogilvie and spent nearly my entire lunch hour browsing for the perfect commuter book (and considering how much I liked The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo trilogy, this book had a lot to live up to). When I finally came upon Grossman's novel - a New York Times Bestseller and a Border's staff recommendation billed as "Harry Potter for adults" - I knew I had found my match.
The book started off on a great note. The main character is a total nerd. Highly intelligent, Quentin has an unfortunate obsession with a Narnia-esque children's book series that leaves him with both few friends and a dissatisfaction with his non-magic world. He can't stop his longing for the grandeur and adventure of a fantasy realm; then one day, just his luck! Quentin receives an invitation to an elite college of magic. From here, you would expect magic wands, Quidditch games, and a kindly headmaster. What you get instead is the oddest, most compelling piece of twisted, violent, disillusioned fantasy fiction I have ever read.
Ultimately, the best way to describe this novel is Catcher in the Rye + Harry Potter + Narnia + Quentin Tarantino. The nods to C.S. Lewis and J.K. Rowling are so blatant that you really can't miss them. Grossman just gives worlds with talking animals and magic potions his own twist by sprinkling in liberal doses of swearing, alcohol, drugs and sex. The characters channel Holden Caulfield by fighting disillusionment and depression and struggling for a sense of meaning in their lives - in spite of their awesome magical abilities. When Quentin and his classmates do finally shake off their post-graduate vodka-scotch haze, they stumble into the type of magical adventure Quentin had always dreamed of when reading his beloved fantasy books. Yet, the quest offers up violent dangers (not just the benevolent talking beavers and centaurs of Narnia), and is still haunted by the same sense of meaninglessness felt on Earth.
This book is almost too complicated to sum up, and I wish more than anything that I knew someone else reading it right now. I need someone to commiserate with me over the book's complete oddness. And while I don't know that I enjoyed reading it, I could not put it down, and I am already impatient for the sequel's arrival next summer. So if you want to be utterly thrown off by a dark interpretation of a childhood fantasy...dive into The Magicians. If not, steer towards more typical summer reading choices.
Also, I'm welcoming suggestions for my next commuter book!
The book started off on a great note. The main character is a total nerd. Highly intelligent, Quentin has an unfortunate obsession with a Narnia-esque children's book series that leaves him with both few friends and a dissatisfaction with his non-magic world. He can't stop his longing for the grandeur and adventure of a fantasy realm; then one day, just his luck! Quentin receives an invitation to an elite college of magic. From here, you would expect magic wands, Quidditch games, and a kindly headmaster. What you get instead is the oddest, most compelling piece of twisted, violent, disillusioned fantasy fiction I have ever read.
Ultimately, the best way to describe this novel is Catcher in the Rye + Harry Potter + Narnia + Quentin Tarantino. The nods to C.S. Lewis and J.K. Rowling are so blatant that you really can't miss them. Grossman just gives worlds with talking animals and magic potions his own twist by sprinkling in liberal doses of swearing, alcohol, drugs and sex. The characters channel Holden Caulfield by fighting disillusionment and depression and struggling for a sense of meaning in their lives - in spite of their awesome magical abilities. When Quentin and his classmates do finally shake off their post-graduate vodka-scotch haze, they stumble into the type of magical adventure Quentin had always dreamed of when reading his beloved fantasy books. Yet, the quest offers up violent dangers (not just the benevolent talking beavers and centaurs of Narnia), and is still haunted by the same sense of meaninglessness felt on Earth.
This book is almost too complicated to sum up, and I wish more than anything that I knew someone else reading it right now. I need someone to commiserate with me over the book's complete oddness. And while I don't know that I enjoyed reading it, I could not put it down, and I am already impatient for the sequel's arrival next summer. So if you want to be utterly thrown off by a dark interpretation of a childhood fantasy...dive into The Magicians. If not, steer towards more typical summer reading choices.
Also, I'm welcoming suggestions for my next commuter book!
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