This has always been my favorite in the series. It's not only because of the sheer atmosphere it creates but also because it presents a female-centered world, which is in complete contrast to the first book. In fact, it's almost the opposite in that regard. Ged is no longer the point-of-view character. Instead, we follow Arha/Tenar and witness her experiences in a different land, seeing Ged as an outsider. That latter aspect is especially enjoyable. Although he claims not to have learned Ogion's lessons, it seems he really has. There is always an allure to the dark rituals, like Arha's dance in front of the Empty Throne and the softly struck drums at heart-pace. Le Guin didn't just haphazardly combine a bunch of superstitions and fake rituals. It all comes together as a cohesive whole. And the fact that even the characters find the rituals meaningless, strange, with their significances lost in time... that really works for me.

One image that always remains with me is that of Ged asleep on the ground, with the small thistle by his hand. That image somehow encapsulates the book for me. It represents his serenity and trust, his connection to the world around him, and also the way Tenar sees him, truly sees him, alive and in the world, and not at all a part of the dark existence she led before. It's difficult to put into words, but that image does it.

Originally posted here.

I read A Wizard of Earthsea over a decade ago. I admired the writing and the anthropologically-informed worldbuilding. However, I didn't feel a personal connection with the story or characters.

Years later, I returned to Earthsea with a different book and a more mature perspective as a reader. This time, the experience was far more rewarding. I have some doubts, though, which are more in the realm of literary criticism than a typical review.

This novel is excellent. Published in 1970, it's classified as children's or YA, but it truly works for adult readers. Le Guin is an exceptional prose stylist, using a distant, quasi-mythological tone that gives the story appropriate gravitas. She's also a great worldbuilder, creating a setting that feels real and textured.

The book focuses on Tenar, a girl believed to be the reincarnation of an important priestess. She's taken from her family as a child and raised to honor the dark spirits of the Tombs. A major theme is how Tenar uses her power, and it's not always pretty. Her experiences are well-developed, with a subtle depiction of emotion.

The book is darker than I expected, with a setting lacking warmth and joy. But things change for Tenar when a wizard appears. The plot is compelling, moving quickly especially in the second half.

However, my thoughts on the book are complicated. I think it should have ended at the end of Chapter 10. But there are two more chapters. Tenar seems more juvenile when she leaves the temple. She's like a refugee, immigrating to a place where she has nothing. The book seems to celebrate her freedom, but she's actually in a powerless situation.

This is shown through her relationships. Back home, she dominates her guardian. But with Ged, he comes to dominate her. The ending is a contrast to All Systems Red. Both protagonists move from bondage to freedom, but Tenar accepts Ged's authority while Murderbot says no.

The crux of my discomfort with the ending is that Tenar has power in her own country. She could lead the community in a new direction. But she flees with Ged, turning her back on her destiny. It feels like the idea of Tenar rising to true leadership never occurred to Le Guin.

The last factor is religion. The worship of the spirits of the Tombs is an Evil Religion. Tenar's life there has had nothing to offer. But I recently read a memoir of a woman who left a real-life Evil Religion, and her experience was more nuanced. I wonder if Le Guin's negative portrayal of the religious life might have influenced her view of Tenar's choices.

Overall, if you haven't read this book, it's worth a try. It's short and accomplished, and you may have a different perspective.