The Magicians, by Lev Grossman
Aug. 9th, 2010 03:06 pmThis is another book that I really wanted to like more than I did. I saw the premise described as "Hogwarts goes to Harvard", and I definitely liked the idea of a more mature take on the wizarding-school sub-genre. I also enjoyed the sly references to the obsessive fandom that fantasy books often generate in our world, and many of the overarching themes - the "desiring something often feels better than possessing it" concept is a particular favorite of mine.
Unfortunately, the entirety of the story is centered on a frustratingly passive and whiny lead character. I understand that Quentin's experiences are supposed to be a stand-in for the anticlimactic experience of graduating college and joining the 'real world', but his continual sense of ennui and existential angst make him more annoying than identifiable. Yes, many students struggle with the question of what to do when they're done with college, but (at least in my experience) brooding about it doesn't usually take up the entirety of their waking hours. After a while I just wanted to smack the kid and tell him to get over himself.
This problem is compounded with some rather half-baked worldbuilding and flat characterizations. Unlike Hogwarts, which almost feels like a character in and of itself, Brakebills just doesn't feel like it has much substance to it; it's there because it is, and we see whatever parts of it we need to see for the narrative, and that's pretty much it. Similarly, many of the characters seem more or less interchangeable - indeed, as the story goes on, different characters drift in and out of the narrative for no particular reason other than the story requires it. We never get a real sense of who these people are, or what drives them, or the history and purpose of the magical world, or any of it. Admittedly, a large part of this may be tied into the fact that we're experiencing the story through Quentin's eyes, and he seems singularly unmotivated to venture outside his solipsistic thought processes, but that just ties right back in to the initial question of why we're experiencing the story through the eyes of such an unlikable character.
What makes the book frustrating (as opposed to simply a write-off) is that there's really some good stuff here. The more dynamic sequences (a cross-global trip made by the class transformed into the shape of geese comes to mind) were engaging and believable, and many of the philosophical questions addressed at least moderately interesting. The final showdown and plot twists also felt well-constructed and ultimately satisfying. But the path to get there was so meandering and convoluted that I, much like Quentin, couldn't sit back and enjoy the journey the way I wanted to. C+
Unfortunately, the entirety of the story is centered on a frustratingly passive and whiny lead character. I understand that Quentin's experiences are supposed to be a stand-in for the anticlimactic experience of graduating college and joining the 'real world', but his continual sense of ennui and existential angst make him more annoying than identifiable. Yes, many students struggle with the question of what to do when they're done with college, but (at least in my experience) brooding about it doesn't usually take up the entirety of their waking hours. After a while I just wanted to smack the kid and tell him to get over himself.
This problem is compounded with some rather half-baked worldbuilding and flat characterizations. Unlike Hogwarts, which almost feels like a character in and of itself, Brakebills just doesn't feel like it has much substance to it; it's there because it is, and we see whatever parts of it we need to see for the narrative, and that's pretty much it. Similarly, many of the characters seem more or less interchangeable - indeed, as the story goes on, different characters drift in and out of the narrative for no particular reason other than the story requires it. We never get a real sense of who these people are, or what drives them, or the history and purpose of the magical world, or any of it. Admittedly, a large part of this may be tied into the fact that we're experiencing the story through Quentin's eyes, and he seems singularly unmotivated to venture outside his solipsistic thought processes, but that just ties right back in to the initial question of why we're experiencing the story through the eyes of such an unlikable character.
What makes the book frustrating (as opposed to simply a write-off) is that there's really some good stuff here. The more dynamic sequences (a cross-global trip made by the class transformed into the shape of geese comes to mind) were engaging and believable, and many of the philosophical questions addressed at least moderately interesting. The final showdown and plot twists also felt well-constructed and ultimately satisfying. But the path to get there was so meandering and convoluted that I, much like Quentin, couldn't sit back and enjoy the journey the way I wanted to. C+