I don't want to say the same things, but some books should really be read in early youth. The second book of the "Sea of Earth Series" was so inspiring with a powerful prologue and made me continue reading with curiosity that the ending was a big disappointment. I'm not saying there's a problem in terms of reading pleasure, because I picked it up and read it in one sitting. It has a self-teaching narrative, and in my opinion, this is the basis for many people to love this series too much. However, in my opinion, being able to read a work easily should not be one of the conditions that make us like that work.

Ursula wrote this series in the years when Joseph Campbell's "monomyth" structure was most talked about and applied. The smell of those days has seeped into the book. From under each stone, a placement that shouts "I'm here" comes out. Gender, awakening, completion, the unknown, collision, maturation, the missing piece, etc. The counterparts of the archetypes are flying in the air. While reading, it throws you mentally from one side to the other. If only I could have let myself into the story without thinking about any of these... As I said, some books should be read earlier, in early youth.

The book is not a bad book, but that's not what I mean. It's just that its scope is narrow and its volume is small.

6.5/10

In reality, this book should have bored me to tears.

The vast bulk of the story is told within a very limited worldview, confined underground in a cave.

The slave girl, from whose point-of-view the reader follows the narrative, is an unreliable narrator, which one might think would be a major drawback.

But, somehow, Ursula Le Guin's writing voice simply captivates me.

She has a rich and enchanting voice, similar in some ways to that of Tolkien and Lewis.

She believes so deeply in her worlds that they seem to spring into vivid reality right before your eyes as you read.

Her writing style is truly beautiful, filled with lyrical prose and nuanced descriptions.

I was rather surprised that she chose to use an entirely different character's POV to continue Ged's story.

I kept waiting for it to switch back to him, but, curiously enough, it worked.

Now, I'm eagerly looking forward to delving into Book Three!

I'd rate this book a PG due to the presence of scary situations and images, as well as dark magic and spirits that add an element of mystery and danger to the narrative.

I just think that, unfortunately, I'm not really gelling with this series.

It did manage to pick up a bit at the end of chapter 9, which was a glimmer of hope. However, this brief improvement failed to hold my interest throughout the entire story.

The overall narrative seems to lack that certain something that would keep me engaged from start to finish. Maybe it's the pacing, or perhaps the characters aren't developed enough to truly draw me in.

Whatever the reason, I find myself losing focus and not really caring about what happens next. It's a shame because there were some interesting concepts introduced, but they just didn't come together in a way that captured my attention.

I'll probably give it one more try, but if it doesn't improve soon, I might have to give up on this series altogether.

One time, I was really into it. The world of the earth's ocean truly has a high potential. Fascinating fantasy stories can be drawn from beneath every rock and pebble of it. Personally, I would rather ride a bike like the first cover of God in this world and listen to his "adventures". All the towers of power in my mind demanded that I receive something similar to the first cover from the book.

In my opinion, of course, this was not a weakness of the book, because actually, I can't say that the story of the first cover was inferior. The characterizations and the description of the environment had really become better. But simply... the expectations that the first cover had created for me were not met. It was more like a secondary cover.

What she had begun to learn was the weight of liberty. Freedom is a heavy load, a great and strange burden for the spirit to undertake. It is not an easy thing. It is not a gift bestowed upon one, but a choice that one has to make, and that choice can be an extremely difficult one. The road leads upward towards the light; however, the burdened traveler might never manage to reach the end of it.

The second installment in Ursula Le Guin's highly respected Earthsea series chronicles the tale of young Tamar. She is taken away from her parents at a tender age and groomed to become the High Priestess of the ancient Nameless Ones. Tamar's story is engaging but not overly captivating until approximately the midway point when it starts to connect with the characters and events of its predecessor, A Wizard of Earthsea. Just like in the first book, Le Guin's exquisite prose and skillfully crafted characters are emphasized by the themes of duality and identity. The story weaves a complex web of magic, mystery, and self-discovery, taking the reader on a journey through a fantastical world filled with wonder and danger. As Tamar grows and faces various challenges, she begins to understand the true meaning of freedom and the sacrifices that come with it. The book leaves the reader eagerly anticipating the next installment in the series.

2/19/21 - I'm editing my review. It might seem strange to edit a review for a book I read over two years ago without rereading it. But I've noticed that whenever I talk about fantasy with my friends, I use this book as an example of perfect world building. It's one of those rare novels that become more perfect the more I think about it. I have no strong desire to revisit the first or third book, but this one may actually go on my favorites shelf.

If you read my review of the previous novel, A Wizard of Earthsea, you'll know I wasn't enamored with it. I didn't say it was bad; far from it. I respected that book for many of the things it did, but I didn't personally care much for it. I went ahead and read the second book because I felt like, to a certain extent, I must be missing something. I think it's no exaggeration to say that Earthsea is one of the most loved Fantasy series, having clearly inspired many works and endured strongly since the late 60s. What was it that captured imaginations but only gently tapped mine? Was it the younger reader aspect? Was this a series that one needed to read at a young age and then let nostalgia keep it fresh?

At times like this, I actually hate that our star rating is listed before the review. Anyone with a casual glance can say, “Yes Tim, enough with the dramatics, we can see the four (now FIVE) stars. Tell us why you liked this one better.” *Sigh* Star ratings just have no flare for the dramatic.

Yes, I liked this one better. A lot better. While I respected the first book, I couldn't say I found it enjoyable. This one, I can say both. This one is something of a masterpiece in my eyes. It corrects every issue I had with the last. Here, we get to know our characters more personally; we're let into their lives rather than kept at a distance. There's far more development than “I was an arrogant kid and then grew up” (yes, I know that's a slight exaggeration… but not much). Here, I actually really cared about what was going on.

The book is short, only 212 pages in my edition. This works both for and against it. On one hand, the story, if we really get down to it, could be summed up in a few sentences. In fact, from a plot assessment, not much goes on. If we only focus on plot, the book could have ended about 20 pages earlier from a traditional narrative perspective. I'll even confess that as I read the last two chapters, I had a metaphoric raised eyebrow wondering why we were getting an extended epilogue. Was this really needed?

Oh, my… yes, yes it was. The first book was a hero's journey. A lesson learned, darkness vanquished, let's go home triumphant. This one is almost entirely an internal struggle with a fantasy story happening around it. It's the story of someone who has lost everything, including her name, and seeing if she's willing to lose what little security she has for the mere possibility of something better. This is an emotional story, presented in a “young adult” friendly fashion, while letting those of us who are older see the darker side, the story told from the shadows and between the lines. The ending section, in my opinion, is what heightens the entire story and raises it to that minor masterpiece status.

Now, ignoring this, I would still say I liked this book better, even if it didn't have the emotional impact (though I'm very glad it did). Why? World building. The world of the previous novel was interesting, but with the second book, Le Guin cemented herself as one of the best in terms of world building. She expands on concepts mentioned in the previous book and plays with them in interesting ways. This one takes place on a different island, in a different country, and we see a completely different perspective. We see the world through other eyes with a vastly altered view from the previous book. The world is built up in so many interesting, small ways, like the rituals in the temple that are performed but never fully explained, as much of the reasons for them have been lost to time. I complained in my last review that the book seemed almost like a textbook, too distanced. Now, I almost feel like I would happily read a full history of the world presented here.

And that, my friends, is the highest compliment I can give a fantasy novel in terms of world building.

5/5 stars and my highest possible recommendation.

Kad se kod Le Gvinove "razmontira" maska koje njeno pisanje nosi, kad se obrišu nazivi zemalja, geografskih odrednica iz mašte, čarobnjaci, sveštenice, magija i zmajevi, jedna stvar ostaje jasna. Suština ostaje kao takva, istina u samoj biti čoveka, njegovoj interakciji sa prirodom i ljudima. Pri tom, priča nije teška i truckava, ni banalna sa druge strane. Balans i mera je ono što Ursulu razdvaja od mora drugih. Njen nepogrešiv osećaj za humanizam se vidi u svakoj rečenici.

Kazuo Išiguro je dobio nagradu Nobelove akademije za književnost. Da je Le Guin poživela, postojala je velika verovatnoća da bi ona ubrzo postala laureat. Njeno delo je značajno za svet književnosti, predstavlja različite teme i ideje koje mogu inspirisati i podstaknuti druge pisce. Njena sposobnost da kreira kompleksne karaktere i atraktivne priče je nešto što je veliko zaštitno sredstvo u modernoj književnosti.

Damn you, Ursula K. Le Guin, for writing such remarkable books that at times, they inflict a strange kind of pain.

Take The Tombs of Atuan, for instance. Just like A Wizard of Earthsea, it follows a single protagonist, Tenar, over a significant portion of her life. Identified as the reincarnation of the First Priestess of the Nameless Ones, Tenar is snatched from her parents at a tender age. Her soul ceremonially devoured by the Nameless Ones, she becomes Arha, the "Eaten One," and paradoxically, loses her own name. She grows up among other priestesses and eunuchs, a very bored girl going through the motions of learning the ways of the High Priestess, sacrificing prisoners to the Nameless Ones, but her heart is not in it.

Then, one day, Ged, the protagonist of the previous book, shows up in the Labyrinth beneath the tombs, a place where only Arha is permitted to enter. I'm certain that if the entire book were told from Ged's perspective, the story of how he sneaked into the Labyrinth to steal something would sound much more enticing. As it is, he comes across as a bit of a mysterious jerk. Yet, Ged's arrival is the event that alters everything. Trapped in the dark tombs with little light and precious little food or water, he performs an act that might seem insignificant to most of us but is the most powerful one possible for Arha: he gives her back her name. Ged divines her name, which was taken from her by the priestesses, and utters it almost casually at parting, thereby restoring Arha's true identity as Tenar and setting her on the path to liberation.

Now that I have re-read the first two books, it's evident to me that the entire Earthsea series is, among other things, about identity. In this world, identity is intertwined with the fabric of magic: to know something's true name is to know the thing itself and have command over it. In A Wizard of Earthsea, Ged discovers who he is while learning more about the gebbeth hunting him, a creature that almost is not. And as a result of his adventures and deeds in and after that book, he is bestowed with all these additional titles, like dragonlord, which he never asked for. It's the same in The Tombs of Atuan; if anything, the motif of identity is even more prominent. Tenar's identity is stolen from her in childhood, and her relief at having it back is like a sucker punch to my gut.

When her true name is restored, it's as if her entire being is re-awakened, and she is given a new life. Everything seems fresh and more real, which is why she experiences hunger, the need for energy to face this wonderful new world. Just like that, Le Guin strikes us with a sense of joy that has been completely absent from Tenar's life until now.

A lesser writer might have ended the book after Tenar and Ged escape the Tombs of Atuan. Perhaps there would be a coda explaining how they lived happily ever after, but that would be it. However, Le Guin does not yield to the temptation of a fairy tale ending. After their escape, their trials are far from over. Tenar does not fall into Ged's arms, swooning over the hero who has rescued her from her spiritual imprisonment. Their journey across Atuan to the sea is slow and, at times, as perilous as their time deep in the tombs. Tenar's trust in Ged is new and uneasy, made even more difficult by the psychic warfare waged by the Nameless Ones. She comes close to killing Ged, but he responds to her only with kindness and reassurance.

This is precisely why Le Guin is so amazing: even though she is telling us a fictional story, she never deceives us. She shows us the joy, but also the sorrow that accompanies it, just as shadow accompanies light. And she does not diminish the significance of Tenar's journey, whether it's the freedom she has gained or the life she has lost, by trying to simplify, pander, or sex it up.

Speaking of which, re-reading The Tombs of Atuan, even more than my re-reading of A Wizard of Earthsea, has only intensified my anger towards the Sci-Fi Channel miniseries. The whitewashing of the cast is regrettable, but now I have a much better understanding of how they mangled the story. The miniseries combines material from both books, but instead of connecting them chronologically, which could have made sense, it conflates them. Ged's battle against the gebbeth is merged with his search for the Ring of Erreth-Akbe. But Tenar's story is almost unrecognizable: everyone calls her Tenar, there is none of this "Eaten One" business, and she is treated more like an uppity novice than any kind of reincarnation of the High Priestess. And as the series concludes, Ged and Tenar meet up, reunite the two halves of the Ring, and bring peace, etc., and there is no crying. There is no significance to Tenar's journey; pretty much there is almost no character development, aside from Tenar's change of allegiance. There is no depth, and if Gavin Scott had ever come across the word "nuance" before, he surely did not bother to look up its meaning.

I did not remember this book as well as I remembered A Wizard of Earthsea, although I'm sure I've read it before. So, I began re-reading it with the expectation that it would be good but not in the same way as its predecessor. Instead, I find myself adding a third Le Guin book to my shelf of all-time favourites, an honour I do not bestow lightly. But The Tombs of Atuan is just that good. It's not just good; it's beautiful, poignant, and powerful. Shame on you, Le Guin, shame!

My Reviews of the Earthsea series:
← A Wizard of Earthsea | The Farthest Shore →


  

This is my all-time favorite book within the cycle. In fact, it can be read either as the first installment or independently.

It centers around a young woman who has been nurtured as a priestess dedicated to nameless subterranean deities. Consequently, it exudes an almost gothic/Lovecraftian atmosphere.

When the girl, then known as Arha, 'the eaten one', discovers the wizard Ged meandering in her labyrinth, she is confronted with a crucial decision. Should she kill him, as dictated by her religion, or choose an alternative path?

It is important to note that this is not a romance; rather, it is a rare female coming-of-age story.

For a comprehensive review of the first two books, please visit https://ajungleoftales.blogspot.com/2...

30 Books in 30 Days / Book #12 (Started in July)

This ambitious challenge of reading 30 books in 30 days is truly an exciting endeavor. Book #12, which was started in July, holds great promise. July is a month full of warmth and possibilities, and beginning this particular book during this time adds an extra layer of significance.

As we embark on this reading journey, we can expect to be immersed in a world of words, ideas, and emotions. Each page turn brings new discoveries and insights. The process of reading 30 books in such a short period not only enhances our knowledge but also sharpens our focus and concentration.

With Book #12, we look forward to exploring its unique narrative, getting to know the characters, and experiencing the story unfold. It will be a wonderful adventure that enriches our minds and souls. Let's embrace this challenge and see where it takes us.

Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I was faced with a dilemma. Which reading list should I follow it up with? Since variety is the spice of life, I've decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my LOCUS FANTASY list. The Locus Sci-Fi Award winners list treated me so well, so I figure I'll trust those same good folk to pick me some stars in their sister-list, the Locus Fantasy Award winners.

Le Guin and I continue to have an okay relationship, without becoming friends. I respect what she does, but it just doesn't really excite me. When I look at the many 5-star reviews from Goodreads friends whose opinions I respect and normally agree with, I find myself in the apathetic minority with Earthsea. They're between "it was OK" and "like it", and I round that 2.5 up to 3 because I'm generous. This is the story of the Eaten One, the reincarnated Priestess who eventually rediscovers free-will and runs away with Sparrowhawk. I was having a hard time with it until Sparrowhawk shows up. The Priestess on her own is way too passive and drifty until then (a common issue I have with Le Guin's work). Even after the Wizard is there, there's a crucial period of dilemma and decision for the Priestess that had me hooked, and then we're back to another drifty sequence on the journey home.

Le Guin is great at quiet moments. I liked Nikki's summary. A lot of the story is about getting into the Priestess' headspace so we can fully appreciate that moment of clarity, but the payoff just didn't seem worth the effort for me. It's like climbing a hill to see the view and seeing more hills and trees and thinking "yeah, it's nice, but I've seen prettier paintings that didn't make my legs hurt." Kudos to all those who love the Earthsea series. I will read the next couple of books since I already have them in an omnibus, but unless the next two have a big change in style, don't expect to see me among the converts!

After this I read: Skin Game

  

As we continue with the second book of the series, this time we turn our rotation to Atuan. And we find ourselves within the story of Tenar.

Tenar is'selected' because she was born at the very hour when the sole priestess of the Atuan tombs died. It is believed that the sole priestess is reborn within her. And thus, she is torn away from her family and taken to the Atuan tombs to be raised as the sole priestess.

The book progressed slowly up to a certain point. Because for a long time, we read about the hardships of Tenar's growth, that is, Arha's growth in Atuan, her preparation for priesthood, and her attempts to find out who she is. The story really came to life in terms of events when Ged, the hero of the first book, entered the story.

With Ged's arrival, Arha, in the darkness, begins to question what she has been serving, following the traditions of the Nameless Ones. Actually, she asks herself who she is. Is she Tenar or Arha? Is there a power within her to follow the light born in the dark labyrinths, or will she continue to be condemned to the darkness and act like the person she thought she was?

Ursula K. Le Guin said it was about growing up for the theme of the first book, and you could feel that strongly while reading the book. For the theme of the Tombs of Atuan, she said it was about gender. I don't think I understood all the symbols in the book at this point. I can only understand, as Ursula also said, that this is shown through Tenar's rebirth, the breaking of her chains, the destruction of the world she lives in, and her attainment of freedom.

Like the first book, I also really liked the second book. I really get a different taste when reading her pen. The ability to reflect such a fantastic world in such a beautiful festival comes from the beauty of Ursula's pen.