8/10 en 2010.

A ver, cuando se habla de Le Guin, ni Dios suele hablar de esta trilogía. Pues bien, a mí me gustó suavemente, digamos. Esta señora no defrauda. Te puede gustar más o menos, pero cumple. En este caso, la cosa iba de familias con poderes transmitidos de padres a hijos... se supone. Cada familia tenía un poder, un "don", y la competencia entre familias era feroz.

Sí, no suena a nada original y no lo era ni cuando lo escribió en 2004 ya con 75 años. Pero la historia y los personajes te atrapan. Su narrativa no te suelta y te lees el libro de un tirón. Aquí nos habla de Las Tierras Altas, en los otros dos desarrolla más paisajes del worldbuilding. Me niego a considerarla una obra menor.

Le Guin's work often explores complex themes and ideas. In this trilogy, the concept of families with inherited powers adds an interesting layer to the story. The intense competition between the families creates a sense of drama and conflict. Although the idea may not be entirely original, Le Guin's masterful storytelling and character development make this a captivating read. The description of Las Tierras Altas and the worldbuilding in the other two books add depth and richness to the overall narrative. I firmly believe that this trilogy should not be overlooked or dismissed as a minor work.

Ех… This is not Earthsea, nor is it the Hainish Cycle, nor is it anything of that great and super important thing that Ursula K. Le Guin wrote in her young creative years, but it's still nice, in a way. Maybe it's nostalgically nice, well-intentioned nice, heartwarming nice. And yet…

It becomes a question about that magical symbiosis between books, which come by unknown paths and human fates. How the written word is freedom, how a manuscript can pull you out of your own personal emotional slavery, as well as from the usual enslavement by the conqueror, and also from the intellectual slavery by birth. The consciousnesses limited by social impositions and expectations have only one chance for liberation – namely, through the words of unforgettable poets and sweet-thinking historians who are not afraid of the past and learn from it, repeating the fates of the main heroes in the setting called "The Dispossessed", until the sounds turn into messages. Maybe a little bit Brechtian, everything starts from the life and being of the whispering children, each with their own sorrows, dreams and limitations, which gradually reach a completely new level of freedom through the words – written, spoken, drunk, but always said secretly.

One boy who thinks he has the terrifying gift to destroy, but in fact only wields the magic of the word. One girl who grew up among the ghosts of books – oracles, in times of war and slavery. And yet another boy – a slave who remembers unfinished things but deliberately dulls his mind to protect himself from the unknown different, blindly trusting his masters. Beautiful ideas, but somehow floating aimlessly in a light plotlessness – they present us with interesting fates, sympathetic heroes, with great potential, but the same ones meander left and right without a starry canopy, and only at the end understand the real nature of things and rely completely on the word, as it was written from the beginning. No one is looking for priceless artifacts, no one is striving to save the world, there are no evil kings or sorcerers, the people are just people, and they all deserve a one-way walk to the druid, and the worst thing is that somehow it collides with the absurd extinction of human life and rights, to which we are so accustomed that their complete absence shocks and repels us by default. Because that's how we were taught. Others are taught differently. How far are we willing to understand the difference, especially if we are closed-minded to judge it at every possible level? A very honest two-way question, but we are not always ready to answer the other side sincerely.

For me, Le Guin has always been an extremely socially oriented author, usually touching on the more tragic themes of unreality, with a strong feminist inclination towards equality, freedom, raising the level of communication a little above the present barbarism and other high-level emotional quests. But it also requires a certain preparation, an open mind, not clouded by the great expectations for the ideally written fantasy, and an almost zen mood that will respond to the cosmic messages, encrypted in the prisoners of human fates. All the things that an average statistical reader lacks, because now what is sought is dynamics, bloodshed, violence, passions and other vivid purple and crimson glow, while Le Guin bathes them in marine aquamarine and noble emerald. It's just different and strictly specific, like a lunar sonata in a melancholy row. It's not well received by everyone, don't say I didn't warn you.

This is one of those stories that could be told around a campfire by Orrec, one of the main characters in the story.

Le Guin presents us with a direct world from her imagination. Although it is not described in detail, it provides sufficient data for the reader to immerse in the story of the High Lands and the Low Lands, the mysteries surrounding those from "above", their gifts or powers, and the way society develops because of them.

Under the pretext of the arrival of a fugitive to the high lands, we get to know the story of Orrec, the next leader of his clan and who possesses a gift considered destructive. The prose is beautiful and in its words, there are messages that are savored with more readings - which is what I like most about Le Guin. It reflects the importance of what is inherited when you want to make your own way and not the one dictated, responsibility, hatred, sadness, love, words.

It is a very short but conclusive novel. I loved the fluidity of the story and its characters. Perhaps not much emphasis is placed on the gifts, but Le Guin always seeks to make us turn our gaze to other things, good things, things that, despite being in a fantastic environment, are real.

I have a profound love for Ursula Le Guin's writing.

Gifts is a YA book in a technical sense, yet it isn't solely confined to young people. It's a charming story, similar to a fairy tale, and extremely easy to read. However, that doesn't imply it lacks value for older readers. The main character is a young boy, but the emotions of other characters, such as Orrec's father, are present and it's crucial to understand and empathize with them. Ursula Le Guin's writing is simple and lovely, both easy to read and enchanting. I have a greater affection for her Earthsea books compared to Gifts, yet Gifts is something distinct - there's no epic quest, mainly just a boy coming to terms with himself and, to some extent, his father.

I appreciate the exploration of chosen blindness. I enjoy reading about blindness in fiction, and this concept of voluntary blindness is perhaps even more intriguing. I like the character of Gry, perhaps even more so because when Orrec wanders around with his eyes blindfolded, she blindfolds herself for a day to attempt to understand him. The friendship between her and Orrec develops quietly - I don't feel that Le Guin forces them together; it just seems natural when they do unite.

The descriptions of Orrec's mother's death are painfully realistic. The metaphor of the sandstorm being unable to pick him up and whirl him past that part of the story, and the way he withdraws... Sometimes I felt he was a bit too passive to be truly, truly interesting, and I liked Gry for trying to nudge him out of it a little, but it's also understandable given his circumstances.

The ending feels abrupt, yet it concludes on a quietly lovely note, and I assume the next book picks up at least some of the threads from Gifts. I'm looking forward to finally reading the rest of the trilogy - I first read Gifts when it was initially released, I believe, and didn't rush to obtain Voices and Powers.

Regarding what the book explores - since Ursula Le Guin usually seems to have something in mind to explore... it's not as evident as in some of her other books. Family relationships are significant, as are expectations. I like the idea someone else mentioned, that the gifts they possess, such as unmaking or calling animals or whatever, are an analogy for things like engineering and aspects of science that are misused. The fact that the gifts originated from healing and working with animals, and the way Gry refuses to use hers wrongly, might be another of Ursula Le Guin's teachings. In any case, her 'agenda' is subtle in this book - you can read it simply as a story if you so desire.

Ragazzi che cercano il loro posto nel mondo sono spesso in una fase di ricerca e di scoperta. Sono giovani che hanno ancora da capire cosa voglio fare con le loro vite, quali sono le loro passioni e quali sono i loro obiettivi.

Questa ricerca può essere un percorso lungo e difficile, pieno di dubbi e di incertezze. I ragazzi devono affrontare molte sfide, come trovare un lavoro, costruire relazioni sociali significative e trovare un equilibrio tra la vita personale e quella professionale.

Tuttavia, nonostante le difficoltà, questo percorso di ricerca può essere anche molto ricco e gratificante. I ragazzi possono scoprire nuove cose su di sé stessi, sviluppare nuove abilità e conoscenze e costruire una vita che sia vera e propria loro.

I fell in love with Ursula's pen.

We are listening to the story from Orrec's mouth.

There weren't such amazing things or something like that, but Ursula's pen was so good that the story flowed smoothly.

Ursula has a unique writing style that makes the readers easily immersed in the story.

Her words are like magic, painting a vivid picture in our minds.

Although the events in the story may not be extremely thrilling, the way she tells it makes it very engaging.

We can't help but follow Orrec's narration and experience the story along with him.

Ursula's talent for writing is truly remarkable, and I look forward to reading more of her works in the future.

A trilogy that begins with an image similar to the second part of Earthsea in terms of quality (The Farthest Shore and The Tombs of Atuan remain my favorites of the author in the realm of fantasy).

It is a rather low-stakes fantasy with a relatively slow rhythm. The characters are acceptable, although the lore and themes raise the bar. A positive point is that it rambles less than Tehanu and the Tales from Earthsea.

This work展现了 a certain charm and complexity. The slow pace allows for a detailed exploration of the world and its inhabitants. The lore is rich and engaging, adding depth to the story. While the characters may not be the most outstanding, they are still likable and relatable.

Overall, it is a solid addition to the Earthsea series, with a score of 3.5/5. It may not be the most exciting or action-packed fantasy, but it offers a unique and thought-provoking experience for those who enjoy a more leisurely-paced story.

The pace of this work is disappointingly slow and the content is rather bland. There is a great deal of repetition of the same information, which makes it feel tiresome.

Moreover, the story narration takes a rather weird shift. It begins with a visitor, then jumps back several years, then even further back, then returns to the visitor again, and then continues on in a rather disjointed manner.

The place names and people/clan names are also quite confusing. Although there is a detailed map in the front of the book, almost none of the places mentioned in the text are actually on it. This discovery is rather annoying and makes it difficult for the reader to fully visualize the setting and the events that are taking place.

Overall, these aspects detract from the enjoyment and comprehensibility of the work.

For a while now, my concentration has been elsewhere. The hot weather in the South Aegean and the intense work pace during the summer are affecting me badly. In such times, it is good for me to take refuge in my old beloved friends, especially to get out of my own reality and immerse myself in worlds full of genuine, magical, superpowers, and great skills. Indeed, I finished "Skills" in two days.

I first read this series in the early years when Metis was first published. That is, it dates back to the years between 2006-2008. The introductory novel to the story, "Skills," became unforgettable for me from the moment I read it, especially for a particular reason. Gry, the daughter of Roddmant, who has the amazing skill of being able to communicate with animals and refuses to use it to easily feed them to hunters, takes away his peace with her authenticity.

This is also the first series that I recommend to those who have been wanting to enter Ursula's oeuvre for years. Next is "Voices," and then my favorite, "Powers."

Life in the northern uplands where Orrec Caspro grows up is extremely harsh.

The climate is bitterly cold, and the farmers and serfs struggle to eke out a meager living from the unyielding soil. The land-owning families that rule over them are torn apart by vicious feuds. Among them, the most powerful, honored with the title Brantor, wields terrifying powers.

One family has the gift of calling to animals, which can be useful when training a horse or a dog but is often used with deadly consequences in the hunt. And that's one of the milder gifts. Other families' gifts include blinding or deafening people, twisting their limbs, enslaving their minds, and afflicting them with a slow and wasting death.

Orrec seems to have inherited perhaps the nastiest gift of all: the ability to "unmake" anything he points at with his eye, his hand, and his will. Indeed, it may not even be as well controlled as that. Which is why, at age fourteen, Orrec decides to wear a blindfold.

He believes this will protect his loved ones from being accidentally struck down by his awful, wild gift. His father thinks it will intimidate their stronger and more aggressive neighbors into leaving the Caspro lands alone. His mother, a gracious and well-educated woman from the lowlands, doesn't understand Orrec's need for a blindfold at all.

And yet for three dark years he wears it, learning to navigate with the help of a stick and a faithful sheepdog. Kept in voluntary blindness by his own fear and the fear of others, Orrec misses many beautiful and painful sights—including the whole last year of his mother's life. And then his anger and despair push him into a darkness not of the eyes alone.

In this first book of a Young Adult trilogy that continues in Voices and Powers, multiple Hugo and Nebula Award-winning author Ursula Le Guin writes with her usual lyricism, poignancy, and attention to world-building detail. She is never more effective than when imagining the entire cultural background behind her characters and their motives.

Here, she offers such a vivid portrait of a youth's struggle to understand his place in the world, such a deeply-felt narrative of grief, love, and healing, that her expertise in these matters can only be attributed to personal experience. Or perhaps she simply has a talent for telling stories that tug at your heartstrings and bring a tear to your eye.

Either way, Gifts had a profound impact on me. I couldn't put it down, even when a perfect blue-sky afternoon beckoned me outdoors for a walk. I read half of this book while on the move, and at one point, I had to struggle to control my emotions when they welled up in a public place. I don't know what those passersby thought of me.

At one moment, I felt the narrator's grief so deeply that, like him, I wanted to be alone. Maybe it's because of the authenticity in passages like this:
To try to tell it is like trying to tell the passage of a sleepless night. Nothing happens. One thinks, and dreams briefly, and wakes again; fears loom and pass, and ideas won't come clear, and meaningless words haunt the mind, and the shudder of nightmare brushes by, and time seems not to move, and it's dark, and nothing happens.
Or maybe it's because the gift of writing a beautiful story is a kind of magic in itself. Orrec seems to discover this. And if any proof is needed, it is the fact that at the end of my walk, I found myself at the public library, placing a hold on the next book in this trilogy.

Wonderful!

Beautiful! UKL's utilization of the English language is truly without equal or parallel. There isn't a single word wasted, nor is there an idea that goes to waste. It is simple, efficient, and yet so touching and thoughtful. I really don't know how she manages to achieve such a feat.

How extremely fortunate it was that I happened to read Gifts during the Christmas season. In western culture, during this time, we are all too often focused on the wrong "gifts" in our lives. Gifts is not specifically a book about Christmas or the Christmas season, but the parallels are unmistakably clear. Of course, all the other themes are present as well... a parent's expectations, worlds colliding, the struggle through our ignorance of the adult world as we grow up... but this book definitely has something profound to say about the Christmas season, whether it was intentionally meant to or not.

It makes one stop and think about what the true gifts in life really are.

After delving into several books penned by Ursula K. Le Guin and conducting a bit more research about her and her writing style, I am firmly of the opinion that she might not possess the ability to pen a subpar story, perhaps not even a single bad sentence.

Gifts, her novel from 1999, exhibits a tone and imagery that vividly reminds one of Anne McCaffery or Robert Silverberg. The gifts she描绘的, which are powerful, spell-like traits associated with a family or lineage, bring to mind the knacks that Orson Scott Card invents in his Alvin Maker series. However, while those powers seem to manifest sporadically and without a discernible trend, much like mutations, the gifts in this Western Shores series are passed down from father to son and mother to daughter, and may be distinctively associated with the particular family in question.

This is truly an outstanding story and an extremely enjoyable read.