Posts tagged Lev Grossman

I have long been aware of who Lev Grossman was, author of the bestselling novel The Codex, and general “nerd” blogger for Time, he seems to have, essentially, the life I desire.

That said, I had not read any of his fiction until a promo copy of his newest novel The Magicians came my way (thank you, again, gods of the bookmines).  I glanced at the back and my interest was piqued by the odd Harry Potter comparison made by George RR Martin.  Opening the book to a random page, as is my custom when considering if I will take a book home or not, I came across both the words “prefect” and “4th year” in the same paragraph.  The Potter comparison, then, was not overblown.

Well, I like books about magic, and schools, and magic schools.  While I didn’t think there was much to be done with the subject, in a post Potter world, I still took it home.  My book hoarding instincts often trump all other considerations.

I did begin to read it, though.  Grossman has an unassuming style; almost conversational without being annoying or overly stupid.  The main character, Quentin, an over achiever with no discernible confidence, sense of self worth, or familial relationships of note was fairly relatable…to me at least.  Now I’ve never been recruited to go to a secret test session for a remote and highly selective magical college but I sure did understand the psyche of Quentin.

So, again, the Potter comparisons begin.  Harry gets into Hogwarts, essentially, because of genetics.  He is a wizard because he is a wizard.  Well, Brakebills (the college in The Magicians) doesn’t work that way.  You might have the potential, but unless you can pass the entrance exam, you don’t get in…or even remember that you took the exam in the first place.  And there begins the differences that are dramatic between Potter and The Magicians.  It would be easy to say that this novel is like Potter, but American, and since the characters are in college, there’s a lot more sex, alcohol, drugs, and nihilism.  But that description short changes the true depth that Grossman understands the depression that can affect the highly gifted.  Imagine, you dream your whole life that you can achieve something more than is “planned” out for you.  You find out that, in fact, you can learn to use real magic…really could walk naked through the antarctic for days and survive, for instance…but then you realize that your life is still meaningless.  How much worse would you feel, knowing you have such power but it doesn’t change the fact that your life means nothing?  The understanding Grossman demonstrates of human consciousness coming to terms with the apparent arbitrary nature of the universe is both deep and disturbing.  Probably more disturbing, in fact, in light of the fact that these characters really could fly to the moon if they so wished.

Besides taking a premise that was made popular by another (magic school) and turning it on its head, Grossman also pays homage to one of the foundations of fantasy literature: Narnia.  In his book Narnia is replaced by a land known as Fillory.  The Fillory books, favorite reading of Quentin even after he starts doing real magic, were written in the 1930’s by a man named Christopher Plover and starred a varying cast of children from the Chatwin family.  The books, the reader discovers in time, are more than just childrens reading, though, and play an integral role in Quentin’s life after he leaves Brakebills.

The New York Times review of the book states that, “Perhaps a fantasy novel meant for adults can’t help being a strange mess of effects.”  This demonstrates a serious lack of understanding on the reviewer’s part.  Either he believes that fantasy must be cut and dry (i.e., good v evil, black v white) or that it can only be for children (and, again, fall into strict categories).  The best fantasy, the best fiction, is fuzzy…like the world.  If magic were a real force that humans could control (though have little real understanding of, as expressed in the book) then Grossman has given the reader the most true to life rendering of it possible.  Of course it is messy because life, and humans, are messy.

In the end, I did not feel overly sympathetic toward Quentin, and I’m not sure I was supposed to.  Yes, eventually, he winds up understanding that his story was nothing more than the by-product of another character’s attempt to right a terrible wrong.  But even that, as is most often the case, was only the outcome of an even earlier evil… But, sometimes, we are just tools in someone else’s story.  Were there moments when I felt sad for Quentin, certainly.  Would I have made his choices at the end, maybe.  Does that make me want to be him, not necessarily.  But isn’t that what adulthood, and humanity, is all about? Whether or not one can perform feats of astonishing power, don’t we all hope to empathize with the pain of others, even if we choose to deal with that pain in a different way?