I understand that sometimes the allure of a book resides in the queries it leaves unresolved. However, this one answered absolutely nothing.

There was no clarification from the townspeople. We never discover whether the roads reopen. Hugh discards his "love" without even a moment's hesitation, and literally every single piece of information regarding the beast is absent.

I found the conclusion to be extremely dissatisfying, and the characters for the most part unlikable and uninteresting. It was a strange experience, especially considering how much I adored Le Guin's other works.

The lack of resolution in this story left me feeling empty and unfulfilled. I craved more details, more explanations, more depth. But alas, it was not to be.

Perhaps this was Le Guin's intention, to leave us guessing and pondering. But for me, it simply fell short of my expectations.

Nonetheless, I will still continue to explore her other works, hoping to find the same magic and brilliance that I have come to love.

The Beginning Place (1979) by Ursula LeGuin was a book that often caught my eye in the library. The title had a certain allure that piqued my curiosity, yet for some reason, I never got around to actually picking it up. I initially thought it was a young adult book, but I was mistaken. In today's terms, we would classify it as a new adult book.

This book truly challenges my ability to summarize or even fully understand it. Despite being pegged as having a romantic element, it doesn't unfold in the way one would typically expect a romance to. The male character isn't particularly strong, and the female character isn't conventionally beautiful. Their destinies don't seem to fit perfectly together, if only they could see it. In all honesty, what we have here are two ordinary, hurt individuals trying to transform themselves into competent adults, with too few role models to rely on.

Meanwhile, the fantasy world presented in the book has a vaguely gothic feel. It is always evening, yet it is usually pleasant and welcoming. The world seems to have its own set of rules rather than relying on overt magic to drive the narrative. This is not a story dominated by blatant magic. Instead, this world feels more complete and fulfilling for the protagonists. While they are in this world, time almost comes to a standstill, but never quite enough to make them forget themselves. The responsibilities of the real world constantly pull them back.

Although I wanted to rate this book highly, I found that the story left me feeling a bit empty inside. The romance felt rushed and lacking in depth, almost perfunctory. The ending seemed out of character, and the symbolism left me with more questions than answers. Whatever this book was intended to be or aimed to achieve, I feel that it tried to do too many things in too many different directions, resulting in a somewhat disjointed and ultimately unsatisfying read. It's like a hollow chocolate bunny, where the delicious outer layer can't hide the empty middle.

This is a truly lyrical and elegant book that delves into the story of two incomplete individuals. They accidentally stumble into another world, a place that appears to be a fantastical haven. However, this world is Omelas, and in the end, they choose to walk away from it.

In a time when individuals like Jordan Peterson, who can be considered dunderheads, misinterpret legends and myths to promote rigid and binary concepts of gender roles, it would be highly beneficial for us to turn to this concise parable. Here, two people unite to embark on an ambiguous heroic quest, which ultimately leads to a salutary disillusionment.

It is through this exploration that we are able to gain a deeper understanding of the complex nature of human experiences and the importance of questioning the status quo. The book serves as a powerful reminder that sometimes, the path to truth and growth lies in walking away from the seemingly perfect and facing the harsh realities of life.

By reading this parable, we can learn to look beyond the surface and embrace the ambiguity and uncertainty that comes with being human. It encourages us to think critically and make our own choices, rather than blindly following the dogmas and ideals imposed upon us by others.

Overall, this book offers a unique and thought-provoking perspective on life, love, and the pursuit of meaning, making it a must-read for anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the human condition.

I have perused some of the scathing reviews penned by other discerning readers. It appears that precisely what I adored most about this book is what left them cold.

We have two flawed characters who struggle to fit in and ultimately choose to flee. Additionally, there are two seemingly uninteresting and dull worlds. Ours fails to convey a sense of authenticity, and Tembreabrezi never truly springs to life. Moreover, the narrative style is rather perplexing.

Yet, how could I have loved this? Well, after being bombarded with countless magical self-discovery quests, battles, and love stories that have transitioned from young adult books to the big screen, this book felt refreshingly genuine.

Consider a colleague who is married to an ordinary man, dealing with problem children and financial woes. To someone who is independent, single, and footloose, this married individual might seem like a failure. Conversely, the married one might also view the single person as a failure. How many people have you encountered who are truly content with their lives? And how many actually take the initiative to improve their circumstances?

Regarding the worlds, they are both real because the only captivating aspect of a world is what one makes of it. Hugh and Irene did not actively engage in either world, which is why neither of them could become truly interesting. Furthermore, Tembreabrezi is not their world, and that is precisely why they cannot fully experience it, and neither can the readers along with them.

Admittedly, I am aware that some were disappointed with the physical manifestation and allegory of the dragon. For me, however, it would have been far more disheartening if it had been a predictable emotional or abstract obstacle. Even Hugh anticipated it to be an abstract concept!

Finally, let's discuss the narrative. Why do I like it? Because it completely immerses me in the characters' points of view. There is no need for a lazy first-person perspective to draw us in. The narrator can effectively convey all the confusion and feelings of being adrift that the characters experience.