The Magician's Land, by Lev Grossman
/
Lev Grossman's Magicians and The Magician King have both had a particular impact on me as a reader. I picked up The Magicians right around the time I was getting out of graduate school and existing in this strange period where I had little direction and less ambition to do much of anything. I picked up and loved The Magician King even more when it was released. And now, with The Magician's Land, the trilogy comes to a triumphant close. It's a bittersweet realization, because these three novels feel as though they spoke to me throughout my twenties. Now, with the close of the trilogy, it's all about moving on.
(Some spoilers)
The Magician's Land picks up shortly after Quentin is unceremoniously dumped out of Fillory and returned to Earth. He's lost the place in which he most cared about after saving the world, and he finds himself welcomed back to Brakebills as a new instructor before he's recruited for a mysterious task. All the while, Fillory is coming to an end, where Eliot, Janet, Josh and Poppy race to figure out how to save their world from destruction. It's hard to say more, lest too much of the book is spoiled, but to say the least, Grossman goes all out with this particular story.
The Magician's Land threw me a bit when I first started reading it: there's a lot of play here in the structure of the book. Grossman loops back and forth with various storylines, starting in one place, going back and setting events into motion across several worlds. It's complicated, most likely warrants another couple of readings, and I'm completely happy with that. Each of the books have played with undermining some of the more traditional fantasy tropes, but with each, Grossman has experimented with style, and The Magician's Land tops the lot nicely. The duel running storylines of The Magician King really made the book for me, and the four or so threads that we play with here work out nicely.
As The Magician's Land feels like Grossman's most complicated work, it's also the most grown up. Where The Magicians looked at learning and growing one's identity along with one's surroundings, The Magician King is all about finding a purpose with one's life. This book, on the other hand, is a sort of coming of age novel, one where Quentin sets about literally building a new world and direction for his life.
This is where the trilogy as a whole speaks to me. I first picked up The Magicians at a point where I could relate to Quentin, and later, The Magician King in my late twenties, when I was starting to settle into a career and family life. The Magician's Land comes at a point when I'm leaving my twenties. I own a house, am part of a family, have various professional and personal responsibilities. I've changed somewhat from the person I was in 2009. Quentin has as well, gone from a fairly insufferable magician to someone far more mature.
Grossman's worlds have grown as well. The Magicians simply featured Fillory and our own world, plus some tantalizing hints of others. King introduced us to the greater magical world here on Earth, but Land is a grand tour of this fantastic world. The strangeness of Fillory explodes into view, complex and artificial at the same time. The magical world within Earth gets some greater context, and the idea of a place is a central concept of this book: where does one go, and what lengths does one go to to make their own home? There's a sense of moving on throughout here: Quentin is kicked out of Fillory (all the while Fillory is vanishing), from Brakebills and he loses his father. In many ways, it's not too similar from what we normally experience: we leave home, all that's familiar to us, and to survive, we must build our own, whether it's a house and family, a fantasy world, or a new life. Grossman covers all the bases here, and with it, brings the Magicians trilogy to a close. It's a fitting and heartwrenching at points, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
It's always cool to find previously unknown authors while doing research. Recently, I came across a relatively unknown fantasy author who had some close ties to some of the giants in fantasy: Christopher Plover. Famous for his Fillory and Further series, he's relatively unknown today. Recently, his works seem to have inspired one recent series of books, The Magicians trilogy, by Lev Grossman, who's latest book, The Magician's Land, came out earlier this week.
One of the first major SF novels that I picked up was Dune. Something about the copy at the library was striking: a figure against a desert. I tore into it and to this day, I can still visualize various parts of the book. It got me thinking about science fiction in ways that I hadn't before, and I still count it as one of my favorite books. I've never read the sequels: I never wanted to be disappointed or let down by the other novels (much like I've never read the 2nd and 3rd installments of the Ringworld and Foundation trilogies).
For years, I've had friends tell me that I should be reading Octavia Butler's works, especially Kindred. I actually own a copy, and it's been sitting on my shelves for years, waiting for me to pick it up. When it came to the point where I'd start writing about the 1970s, it was pretty clear that Butler would be one of the authors that I'd be covering, and I picked up the book as part of my research. She's a powerful author, and I'm a little sad that I didn't read the book earlier. Researching Butler's life is fascinating, and it's becoming clear to me that some of the genre's most important works emerge from outside of it's walls.
Ringworld is a novel that's always stuck with me. I picked it up alongside authors such as Isaac Asimov, Frank Herbert, Robert Heinlein, and other authors from that point in time. Foundation and Dune are two books that are among my favorites, but Ringworld has long been the best of the lot. It's vivid, funny, exciting and so forth. Reading it again recently in preparation for this column, I was astounded at how well it's held up (as opposed to Foundation) in the years since it's publication, and I can't wait to read it again. Plus, that cover is just beautiful.
When I worked at a bookstore (the now defunct Walden Books), I had a co-worker that loved Andre Norton. I'd never read any of her books throughout High School, although I was certainly familiar with her name. I wish now that I did.
As I've been writing this column, I've realized that there's points where I have to move ahead and skip authors, or, after some reflection, research and writing, that I missed someone critical. Over the last couple of months, I've been realizing that not covering L. Frank Baum has been a drastic oversight, and that at the next available opportunity, I need to cover him and his wonderful world of Oz.
A year ago today, I held my son in my arms for the first time. Bram's birth was one of those moments that struck me hard: I remember gasping and crying in joy when I first saw him: after months of a conceptual baby, there he was, in the flesh. It's easy, looking back at just how pivotal that moment is: one moment, I'm just this guy. The next, I'm a father. With that moment, everything changes.
I've got a bit of a bonus installment for my column on SF History. I've got a limited amount of space that I've got to work with for Kirkus, and as such, I've had to blow past a couple of things. Fortunately, with Jurassic London's new release of The Brick Moon by Edward Everett Hale, I've had the opportunity to circle back and write about this particular novel.
The Brick Moon is the first science fiction story that uses the idea of an artificial satellite, and it's an excellent example of what science fiction is: extrapolation into the near future. In this instance the need for a navigational beacon in the skies. It's a cool premise, and in one fell swoop, Hale comes up with the idea for a satellite, communications satellite and space station. (Yes, Clarke came up with the idea as well. His invention is notable because it wasn't in SF, but a non-fiction speculation).
I've had a passing fascination with McCaffrey's books over the years, even as I never really dabbled in them. (I owned one book, Dragonflight, years ago.) I was always somewhat intimidated by the sheer size and scale of the series, and I was always more interested in SF than I was Fantasy (although now, I realize that that was a bit misguided.) Anne McCaffrey was always an author I was aware of: one of the female authors alongside the Asimovs, Herberts and Heinleins in my high school library.
I've been a fan of Game of Thrones since I first caught it a couple of years ago, and I've been impressed with the HBO series as I've continued to watch. When Season 1 hit, I pulled out my copies of A Song of Ice and Fire and started the first book, alternatively reading and watching the show. I've found the books to be a trial to get through, but I've ultimately enjoyed them.