Quentin Coldwater is an unhappy, self-absorbed, self-conscious teenager obsessed with a children’s fantasy series set in a magical world called Fillory, which is very clearly meant to evoke Narnia. Then he learns that he has a talent for magic, and is whisked away to a fancy prep school for magicians, Brakebills. At first he thinks his dream has come true. But soon enough, he realizes that he’s still an unhappy, self-absorbed, self-conscious teenager, only now he’s obsessed with real magic.
I read this in preparation for being on a panel on portal fantasy. I had avoided it until then because all I had heard about it was that it was published as a mainstream literary novel rather than as genre fantasy (you can tell because it’s subtitled “a novel,”) was about how fantasy sucks and had the most unlikable protagonist since Thomas Covenant.
All that turned out to be correct. Sort of. But I liked it way more than I expected to, primarily because the “fantasy sucks” and “protagonist is unbearable” elements don’t come in, or at least aren’t major themes, until about the last third of the book. The first two-thirds, which is set in Brakebills, is terrific – distinctly on the cynical side and weighed down by Quentin’s depression and solipsism, but written in absolutely wonderful prose and full of vivid images, funny lines, and a genuine sense of magic.
As I read that part, I couldn’t understand why the book had such a bad reputation among fantasy readers. Sure, it emphasizes that magic is difficult, that magicians are not the most fun people in the world, and that Quentin is using magic to run away from essentially everything else, but it’s also hugely enjoyable to read as fantasy.
I loved the Brakebills section. The prose is to die for. It’s extremely well-structured, with a great use of foreshadowing to create surprising yet beautifully set-up plot twists.
On the con side, the characterization has problems and it isn’t just a lack of likability. Other than Quentin, who is more distinct as he’s seen from the inside, many of the characters are so similar that they blend together. Virtually all of the characters are obsessive, unhappy, self-absorbed, driven, and jaded. The main characters have maybe one or two traits in addition to that set, such as “punk,” “brave,” or “pretentious.”
However, lots of teenagers are unhappy and self-absorbed, so I read the Brakebills part thinking that Quentin and his buddies weren’t that bad and the readers who loathed him probably didn’t remember being a teenager that well.
Then he graduates from Brakebills. Almost immediately, I realized why readers hated him. And soon after, I realized why fantasy readers frequently hate the book. Spoilers ahoy!
The last section did have some very clever plotting. But it was not enjoyable to read. If that list of character traits sounded off-putting, it becomes far more so once the characters are no longer teenagers obsessively studying magic, but are young adults obsessively indulging in joyless hedonism. And the theme of Quentin using magic to avoid engaging with life expands to a hammered-in message that magic and Narnia would suck if they were real, and people who enjoy imagining visiting Narnia are idiots because obviously it never occurred to them that it would suck in real life.
As for the moment that made me realize why everyone hates Quentin: hi there, infidelity, my least favorite plot element of all time! It’s not that I find cheating unforgivable or the worst possible thing anyone can do. It’s that I find the drama associated with it both painful and boring. This was particularly the case here given that Quentin is not only a cheater, but develops a really ugly misogynist streak. It’s clearly written as a bad thing and not something readers should agree with, but it’s still very unpleasant to read.
Fillory felt very slight compared to Brakebills; all suck and no joy. There’s talking animals, but they’re obsessive and boring. (The concept of this was pretty funny – of course a talking bear would be primarily interested in honey – but the execution leaned heavily on “and that’s why it wouldn’t actually be fun to meet a talking animal.”) The humans, again, are under-characterized, with exactly two traits each apart from the pre-set “obsessive, self-absorbed” set.
While Brakebills really did feel magical, Fillory felt thin and dull; less real than regular real life. I’m guessing this was deliberate and the point was that Narnia’s worldbuilding doesn’t hold together, but, again, it didn’t make the section enjoyable reading.
The pay-off of earlier set-up – the niffin, the Beast, the clock-witch – was brilliantly done. But it was all in service of the relentless “everything sucks” theme. Also, the reveal that the Fillory writer – the alt! C. S. Lewis – was a pedophile went beyond anvillicious and into cement truck.
I looked on Goodreads and saw that there are two more books. I attempted to get a sense of what they were like while avoiding spoilers, and was interested to see that the second is partly narrated by the most interesting character in the first book, and that readers seemed to think the third was actually uplifting. It’s not that I require uplift in everything. But I’m not going to read more of the series if it’s all soul-sucking joylessness like the real world and Fillory sections. However, I would definitely read more if it’s more like the Brakebills sections. Also, the moments of uplift in The Magicians were beautiful, so I know Grossman can do that well.
If you can comment without major spoilers, I’d be interested to hear what those of you who’ve read further books thought of them.
The Magicians: A Novel
I read this in preparation for being on a panel on portal fantasy. I had avoided it until then because all I had heard about it was that it was published as a mainstream literary novel rather than as genre fantasy (you can tell because it’s subtitled “a novel,”) was about how fantasy sucks and had the most unlikable protagonist since Thomas Covenant.
All that turned out to be correct. Sort of. But I liked it way more than I expected to, primarily because the “fantasy sucks” and “protagonist is unbearable” elements don’t come in, or at least aren’t major themes, until about the last third of the book. The first two-thirds, which is set in Brakebills, is terrific – distinctly on the cynical side and weighed down by Quentin’s depression and solipsism, but written in absolutely wonderful prose and full of vivid images, funny lines, and a genuine sense of magic.
As I read that part, I couldn’t understand why the book had such a bad reputation among fantasy readers. Sure, it emphasizes that magic is difficult, that magicians are not the most fun people in the world, and that Quentin is using magic to run away from essentially everything else, but it’s also hugely enjoyable to read as fantasy.
I loved the Brakebills section. The prose is to die for. It’s extremely well-structured, with a great use of foreshadowing to create surprising yet beautifully set-up plot twists.
On the con side, the characterization has problems and it isn’t just a lack of likability. Other than Quentin, who is more distinct as he’s seen from the inside, many of the characters are so similar that they blend together. Virtually all of the characters are obsessive, unhappy, self-absorbed, driven, and jaded. The main characters have maybe one or two traits in addition to that set, such as “punk,” “brave,” or “pretentious.”
However, lots of teenagers are unhappy and self-absorbed, so I read the Brakebills part thinking that Quentin and his buddies weren’t that bad and the readers who loathed him probably didn’t remember being a teenager that well.
Then he graduates from Brakebills. Almost immediately, I realized why readers hated him. And soon after, I realized why fantasy readers frequently hate the book. Spoilers ahoy!
The last section did have some very clever plotting. But it was not enjoyable to read. If that list of character traits sounded off-putting, it becomes far more so once the characters are no longer teenagers obsessively studying magic, but are young adults obsessively indulging in joyless hedonism. And the theme of Quentin using magic to avoid engaging with life expands to a hammered-in message that magic and Narnia would suck if they were real, and people who enjoy imagining visiting Narnia are idiots because obviously it never occurred to them that it would suck in real life.
As for the moment that made me realize why everyone hates Quentin: hi there, infidelity, my least favorite plot element of all time! It’s not that I find cheating unforgivable or the worst possible thing anyone can do. It’s that I find the drama associated with it both painful and boring. This was particularly the case here given that Quentin is not only a cheater, but develops a really ugly misogynist streak. It’s clearly written as a bad thing and not something readers should agree with, but it’s still very unpleasant to read.
Fillory felt very slight compared to Brakebills; all suck and no joy. There’s talking animals, but they’re obsessive and boring. (The concept of this was pretty funny – of course a talking bear would be primarily interested in honey – but the execution leaned heavily on “and that’s why it wouldn’t actually be fun to meet a talking animal.”) The humans, again, are under-characterized, with exactly two traits each apart from the pre-set “obsessive, self-absorbed” set.
While Brakebills really did feel magical, Fillory felt thin and dull; less real than regular real life. I’m guessing this was deliberate and the point was that Narnia’s worldbuilding doesn’t hold together, but, again, it didn’t make the section enjoyable reading.
The pay-off of earlier set-up – the niffin, the Beast, the clock-witch – was brilliantly done. But it was all in service of the relentless “everything sucks” theme. Also, the reveal that the Fillory writer – the alt! C. S. Lewis – was a pedophile went beyond anvillicious and into cement truck.
I looked on Goodreads and saw that there are two more books. I attempted to get a sense of what they were like while avoiding spoilers, and was interested to see that the second is partly narrated by the most interesting character in the first book, and that readers seemed to think the third was actually uplifting. It’s not that I require uplift in everything. But I’m not going to read more of the series if it’s all soul-sucking joylessness like the real world and Fillory sections. However, I would definitely read more if it’s more like the Brakebills sections. Also, the moments of uplift in The Magicians were beautiful, so I know Grossman can do that well.
If you can comment without major spoilers, I’d be interested to hear what those of you who’ve read further books thought of them.
The Magicians: A Novel
From:
no subject
I will say that the last time a book pissed me off this much it was Mark Helprin's A Winter's Tale --- so you know where I'm coming from on...
From:
no subject
I actually love A Winter's Tale. It's all over the place and I have no idea what point he was trying to make (maybe that's just as well!), but lots of it is just beautiful to read.
From:
no subject
I loved Brakebills, was meh on Quentin, meh on Fillory, and LOVED the female characters. But. Remember how Alice basically gets fridged at the end of this one? I will just say that kind of plotting continues in the second and third books. There is even more emphasis on Quentin and his manpain and his Learning Stuff, and I was interested in everything else, particularly the women. But the women just get used as occasions for Quentin to Learn Stuff and feel manpain and suffer greater and lesser damage to that end.
The second book has a wonderful female character and half the book is from her POV, but she gets shafted. But, without spoiling you too much, she doesn't go the Gifted Young Wizard-in-Training Gets a Golden Ticket route, and that was fascinating. I love hedgewitches and I love the idea that there's this other way of learning magic besides the regimented Brakebills one.
I didn't find the third....uplifting? The first third or so is quite good and has a BEAUTIFUL payoff, which instantly ruined the whole rest of the book for me because I wanted the story about what happened to a character -- yet another interesting woman who gets dropped in favour of Quentin and his Learning Things -- and no, the rest of the book is about Quentin and his Learning Things, and near the end of the book Grossman just starts baldly spelling out what he thinks people should take away from the trilogy, as if he's desperate that he hasn't communicated it via the people and the events. When people start telling each other what they have Learned in very stilted dialogue in final chapters, that is never a good sign.
I didn't think the idea was that great as a redrafting of Narnia. He maps his three books explicitly to the seven Chronicles, two into one, leaving out Horse and His Boy, and the The Magician's Nephew/The Last Battle attempt especially just falls really flat. I was hoping one thing we might see in this series is something from the POV of the talking beasts or native peoples -- what do they think of these young white bratty kids who just show up and are automatic royalty? -- but no dice. But a lot of the descriptions of magic and how it works are really good -- almost reminded me of Le Guin's stuff. But Quentin is between the reader and everything, and while I didn't hate him as much as some people I know did, I just got frustrated with everything being about him because he was just pretty damn dull. Especially when compared with all the women, who just popped off the page.
tl;dr I'd recommend the second book with extreme reservations because of the (spoiler) but the third wasn't really worth it for me, too frustrating.
From:
no subject
I was ambivalent about whether Alice was a fridging, since it was also a moment of glory that no one else could match. I'm sure it did end up being one if it's all just about Quentin learning not to be such a selfish asshole.
I also found the book really frustrating in terms of Grossman obviously having the chops to write a book I'd love, and having that book periodically exist, then get taken over by anvilicious messages and characters I either didn't like or didn't care about.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
From:
no subject
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:Rose Fox's comment - deleted and re-posted with spoiler edited
From:Re: Rose Fox's comment - deleted and re-posted with spoiler edited
From:Re: Rose Fox's comment - deleted and re-posted with spoiler edited
From:Re: Rose Fox's comment - deleted and re-posted with spoiler edited
From:Re: Rose Fox's comment -
From:From:
no subject
I never even reviewed the prequel to this book – The Magicians, Hogwarts and Narnia as reimagined by Curtis Sittenfeld – because the ending made me so mad. The hero-protagonist made a decision that was ethical and unselfish, and then (spoiler!) he turned around and did the opposite thing just ’cause.
Imagine my surprise! then, when this is actually addressed in the sequel, where escapist fantasy worlds suddenly cease to be consequenceless and people have to do the right thing, at whatever cost to themselves!
Also! You know how I do that thing where I say “There is a MUCH more interesting book to be written about what happened to Secondary Character X over the course of THIS book!” This is that book! I shall call it HERMIONE GRANGER STRIKES BACK.
From:
no subject
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
http://www.lizbatty.co.uk/2011/09/11/the-problem-of-julia/
http://thinkprogress.org/alyssa/2011/11/29/376991/women-and-mens-moral-awakenings-in-the-magician-king/
http://hotelsongs.tumblr.com/post/9986559447/lev-grossmans-broken-ladies-in-which-this-dude-is-the
http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/books/2014/08/the_magicians_trilogy_by_lev_grossman_concludes_the_magician_s_land_reviewed.html
http://www.salon.com/2014/08/24/why_does_the_magicians_trilogy_keep_raping_and_killing_off_its_best_characters/
http://weirdaffectations.blogspot.com/2012/05/magician-king-how-to-not-fuck-up.html
From:
no subject
The title of the Salon article cracks me up.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
Also having read through it a couple of times I'm just . . . .mildly puzzled.
I mean, I'm actually all for stories that examine the warts of a potential magical world or magical system, but this literally seems to be an inversion of Narnia, and is thus just as silly. I mean, young people dream of and obsess about lots of things and imagine that if they could get at them everything would be perfect - equestrianism, ballet, sports, etc.
And then a lot of them go on to discover it's a bunch of hard work and for some of them the payoff is never enough and for some of them it is. To ignore that factor as applying to just about every human endeavour that exists again seems . . .. silly. Which I somehow doubt is the adjective Grossman is trying to get applied to his work, but really, it's the one that fits.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
From:
no subject
The main reason I've loved the books is also a reason I suspect some readers dislike them; they're deconstructions of "having magical adventures in Magicland" stories, obviously, which makes so much of the landscape unpleasant. But the important bit to me was Quentin as a deconstruction of that kind of story character: he's a fantasy novel protagonist who thinks he's a fantasy novel HERO.
He's read all the books, he's genre-savvy for all the tropes, and he thinks that makes him experienced and wise. Quentin does or experiences bad things but expects them to turn out okay in the end, because he's a fantasy novel hero. He does good things not because he really cares about improving the world, but because do-goodery is What One Does as a fantasy novel hero. (Going through the motions, walking through the part.) Quentin isn't an actively malicious or cruel person; he just doesn't see other people as being equally important and real as himself, not in Fillory or on Earth. Which is its own solipsistic brand of evil.
A lot of reviewers I've seen who disliked the Magician books—not all, but definitely a significant percentage—interpreted them as a message of attack, like "Grow up, fantasy readers! Stop fantasizing about going to Magicland! Fantasy books are for silly little kids!" And I understand that POV. I was definitely one of those readers who made contingency plans about how sensible and genre-savvy I would be if I ever went to Narnia or got a genie or whatnot. But the message I got from the first two books was, "If you expect the universe to revolve around you and treat everyone else as less important, grow the fuck up. Even Magicland has important stuff to deal with." Imaginary gardens have real toads in them.
The point of the generic fairytale is not to help the mysterious beggar lady by the side of the road because you hope she's a magic fairy who'll reward you with treasure. The point is to treat people with compassion and actually mean it. Quentin is not a hero because he doesn't get that. I'll be reading book 3 to see if he ever does.
From:
no subject
(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Did Lev Grossman and Philip Pullman have one of those Heinleinian bets on as to who could write the crappier response to the Chronicles of Narnia? Because I used to think The Amber Spyglass held the monopoly on that very undesirable field, but now I realize there is some impressive competition.
From:
no subject
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
The grudge some writers hold against CS Lewis! Sign of the times that being cool means being cynical. I wonder if Grossman's read CS Lewis' other works before besmiching him this way? I read Till We Have Faces and A Grief Observed later in life and it restored some of the antifeminist tarnish that's accrued on CS Lewis. But pedophile is really going too far. Its enough not to want me to read this book. At least accuse CS Lewis of things he could have been guilty of...
From:
no subject
I read that part and thought, "Did C. S. Lewis step on your kitten?"
From:
no subject
It’s not that I find cheating unforgivable or the worst possible thing anyone can do. It’s that I find the drama associated with it both painful and boring.
Amen to this, x100.
(The concept of this was pretty funny – of course a talking bear would be primarily interested in honey – but the execution leaned heavily on “and that’s why it wouldn’t actually be fun to meet a talking animal.”)
Tell that to people who actually like animals and find them interesting! They don't have to have human-type personalities to be fun to engage with. It would be fascinating to find out what's actually going through their heads.
Fillory felt thin and dull; less real than regular real life. I’m guessing this was deliberate - the point was probably that Narnia’s worldbuilding doesn’t hold together and that real life is more interesting than fantasy
This makes me go "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH" because the first point is not like the second. Narnia is a pretty obvious allegory that never attempts to hold together like the real world. To go from this to "real life is more interesting than fantasy" relies on "all fantasy is like Narnia," which is so patently not the case that I want to throw books at Grossman.
From:
no subject
Then we get to Fillory, and it's like he's repenting for ever having led his readers to believe that fantasy could be anything but a toxic escape from reality.
That being said, I'm not sure that subsequent books have the same (apparent) point.
I totally agree about the talking animals. Also, the idea of a talking bear monologuing about honey until all humans flee the room is hilarious. But when the context is "Thing # 49 that sounds fun when you read it in a fantasy novel, but which actually is boring and annoying when encountered," it sucks all the reading enjoyment away.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Nine
From:
no subject
PS. I think you were abroad when I made a post with a bit that might amuse you, so I'll copy the relevant bit:
Tonight we saw an outdoor production of The Taming of the Shrew. It was mediocre but entertaining. None of us were sure why everyone was a pirate. (That reminded me of the immortal quote, "None of us knew why the Duke in Measure for Measure was four vampires.")
The funniest moment was when an actor, I am 99% sure accidentally, addressed Petruchio as Pistachio. The second-funniest was when a slightly drunk woman in front of us yelled "BAAAAAAARF!" during Kate's "female subjugation is awesome" speech.
(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
I actually really liked the first book, though ~95% of my love for it was for the Brakebills section and learning magic. I've never read (or wanted to read) Narnia, so I found Fillory boring but not insulting (and I didn't read it as a rejection of all fantasy or anything). Also, I didn't hate Quentin (I went to school with a lot of Quentin types, and I think as a result found him amusing more than maddening), but there were definitely far more interesting characters that I wish these books had spent more time on.
The second book I didn't enjoy as much as the first though I suspect it may actually be a better book. The sections from the POV of the character you mention really worked for me -- but uplifting they weren't. (And I see you already got the trigger warning in the DW comments. Yeah...)
From:
no subject
What I remember most vividly was post-graduation when they're all spinning their wheels and meditating on the uselessness of everything, and rolling their eyes over someone they knew who's trying to use magic to solve real-world problems because UGH EVERYTHING IS POINTLESS. That scene annoyed me deeply (now I'm wondering -- is this scene actually in there, or did I create it in my head by implication?) and I compared the whole book unfavorably to another magic-in-the-real-world series I'm very fond of, Diane Duane's Wizardry series. (Part of me still wants to believe that the magic in those books is REAL.)
I disliked the first book so intensely I have not picked up the sequels.
From:
no subject
(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
From:
no subject
It is telling that while Quentin feels self-conscious about loving Fillory, he never mentions any other work of fantasy beyond joking allusions, nor does anyone else read any other fantasy.
(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
This was definitely a book I finished reading only because I wanted to find out what happened at the end, and I hated most of it (mostly because of Quentin). I can see why it was marketed as literary fiction because the whole thing felt like a "postmodern" take on fantasy, not necessarily because it is actually postmodern but because the book and its characters' pretentiousness vividly brings to mind a certain type of guys I encountered in college who tossed around the word "postmodern" all the time.
I think, for me, the problem even with the Brakebills sections is that even when Quentin is excited about and obsessed with magic and learns it, I never felt like that excitement translates through the text and makes me excited.
From:
no subject
I profoundly disagree with his whole outlook.
From:
no subject
It also helped that they weren't constantly miserable, and had intense feelings about each other. The narrator loved his friends, no matter how awful they were. Quentin doesn't care about anyone but the girl he loves, is a total asshole to, and then blames for himself being an asshole.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
no subject
I don't usually hold with judging a text by the personality of its author, but it was like meeting the ghost of John Updike. It was so obvious that any text which came out of his theories would not be to my taste that I have never bothered.
Sadly, the ghost of John Updike thing is probably why he has had such gigantic mainstream and crossover success. I was initially hoping he'd do middling well and get told by critics to go do his homework in reading his genre, but he's done so well he doesn't have to pay attention to that sort of thing.
Ah well. His is the sort of value system I tend to hope people grow out of because it is so obviously making them miserable, but not growing out of it is its own punishment.
From:
no subject
Hee!
That hour was like wading hip-deep in tar-tainted honey: exhausting and defiling.
Nine
(no subject)
From:From:
no subject