I'm not crying, you're crying.

This simple yet powerful statement often holds a deeper meaning. It can be a defense mechanism, a way to avoid showing vulnerability. When we say this, we might be trying to convince ourselves as much as the other person.

Sometimes, it's used in a lighthearted or humorous context, perhaps after watching a touching movie or hearing a sentimental story. But even then, there might be a hint of truth behind it.

We all have emotions that we struggle to express or suppress. Saying "I'm not crying, you're crying" can be a way to acknowledge those emotions without fully confronting them. It's a way to let out a little bit of the pent-up feelings while still maintaining a sense of control.

So, the next time you hear someone say this, or find yourself saying it, take a moment to think about what might be really going on beneath the surface. Maybe they're not crying, but maybe they are. And that's okay too.

A beautiful conclusion to a fantastic series!

Terremer will always hold a special place in my library. It's not just a book; it's a journey that takes you to a world full of magic, adventure, and unforgettable characters.

The story is so well-written that it keeps you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end. The author has done an amazing job of creating a vivid and detailed world that you can't help but get lost in.

Each character has their own unique personality and backstory, which makes them feel real and relatable. You find yourself rooting for them, hoping they succeed in their quests and overcome their obstacles.

Terremer is truly a masterpiece, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who loves a good fantasy novel. It's a book that you'll want to read again and again, and it will always bring a smile to your face.

The Other Wind serves as the conclusion to the Earthsea Cycle, resolving an issue that has been evident to perceptive readers since the very beginning. Despite the allure of wizardry and the remarkable feats wizards can accomplish, the specter of the world of death looms large from the start, and it doesn't seem like a desirable place. In the second book, Tenar's backstory reveals that her people believe in the rebirth of souls, but wizards' souls are an exception. In the third book, we catch a glimpse of the world of death: a desolate, arid, and empty realm,充斥着痛苦, where lovers can pass each other on the street without recognition.

This is not a world we wish to see Ged or Lebannen consigned to, and thus The Other Wind is a fitting conclusion as it dismantles that perception. It also introduces another female character who is Kargish, prompts Lebannen to examine some of his issues, allows Tehanu to mature, and ties in the thread of Irian from the novella 'Dragonfly'. Other themes that have been prominent in the previous books, such as the role of women, are still present and now integral to the world, perhaps more so than in A Wizard of Earthsea and Yarrow.

When I first read it, it wasn't my favorite in the series. I must admit that I have a deep affection for the first two books and always will, although Tehanu and The Other Wind are growing on me. However, upon rereading this time, it seems like a very appropriate ending point. I believe I'm correct in stating that Le Guin is no longer writing novels, so it's likely that this truly is the end of Earthsea, and it's a good way to conclude, with Ged and Tenar in their house and the dragons soaring on the other wind.

Originally posted here.

Is it just me, or is the only path to being a good person in this book (perhaps in all of her works - I'm not a fan) by sacrificing something that is essential to oneself and those around them? Not just a select few, but everyone has to do this? That ultimately, if she could find a way, she would strip all her mages of their power, or leave them as nasty, mean, and sour individuals, tightly clutching their skills to their chests and only grudgingly sharing bits of their knowledge with others because it is expected of them? And that a woman's fate is to give things up and endure pain, or smile and be ready with hugs when the kids and men go out to do the tough stuff? That true, ultimate love is discovered in a moment when the other person isn't paying attention?

I read the Earthsea trilogy in my late twenties. After hearing about the clapping songs, I couldn't bring myself to read TEHANU. I read LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS in college, and it left me seething in a deep pit of rage from which I have yet to emerge. (An Earthman is isolated in a shack with one of a race that transitions from male to female, and the first sign that the other creature is turning female is PMS hysterics? How degrading is that?)

So, no, I'm not a fan. However, Michelle West said that THE OTHER WIND was the book LeGuin was born to write, and it was okay - I finished it. It was an okay book where a growing number of interesting people traveled, talked, and acquired more people to travel, talk, and solve the problem - and I won't give away any spoilers. But throughout the story and before it, people had to give up the core of themselves as payment so many times that it really got on my nerves. Yes, I believe that great victories come at a great price, but where was the sense of victory? Where was the feeling of battle? And for all the mentions of the strong Karg women with their strong bare arms and strong bare feet, they only got to be strong and wait.

  
    “I think,” Tehanu said in her soft, strange voice, “that when I die, I can breathe back the breath that made me live. I can give back to the world all that I didn't do. All that I might have been and couldn't be. All the choices I didn't make. All the things I lost and spent and wasted. I can give them back to the world. To the lives that haven't been lived yet. That will be my gift back to the world that gave me the life I did live, the love I loved, the breath I breathed.”
  

Have you ever procrastinated reading the final installment of a series? Perhaps it's because you dreaded its conclusion. You knew it would shatter you completely. You were aware it might plunge you into the world's most profound reading slump.

Well, that's precisely how I felt about The Other Wind. I postponed reading this book for approximately a year and a half. It wasn't until this morning that I finally woke up and decided the time had come.

And, oh boy, was I correct.

Returning to Earthsea was like coming home. The magnificent prose, the awe-inspiring worldbuilding, and the heart of the narrative are simply inimitable. Besides perhaps Robin Hobb, I haven't encountered other authors whose writing speaks to my soul as powerfully as Le Guin's does.

The Other Wind broke me and reduced me to tears. When I attempt to describe how beautiful this book was, words fail me. I truly can't envision a more perfect way to conclude such a remarkable series. The ending was a masterpiece in its own right. The themes of this installment predominantly revolve around reconciliation, restoration, and redemption. I adore the way Le Guin managed to infuse such a simple storyline with extraordinary specialness and moving power. But more than that, I cherish the beautiful and heartfelt mother-daughter moments between Tenar and Tehanu, as well as the incredible wisdom and unwavering resolve of Ged. In Earthsea revisioned, Le Guin stated, "I didn't want to leave Ged and Tenar and their dragon-child safe. I wanted to leave them free." And that's precisely what she accomplished.

The Earthsea Cycle has firmly established itself as one of my all-time favorite series. It has left an indelible mark on my heart. Thank you, Ursula K. Le Guin, for bestowing upon this imperfect world such a beautiful tale.

Rating: ALL THE STARS

A magnificent hereditary series.

It will always have a special place among my favorite books.

This series is truly remarkable, with its engaging storylines, well-developed characters, and richly detailed worlds.

Each book in the series builds upon the previous ones, creating a seamless and immersive reading experience.

Whether it's the thrilling adventures, the heartwarming relationships, or the thought-provoking themes, there is something for everyone to enjoy.

I have spent countless hours lost in the pages of this series, and I can't wait to see what new installments will bring.

It has become a staple of my literary collection and a source of inspiration for my own writing.

Truly, this is a series that will be cherished for years to come.

Oh, my word!

From a crone's perspective, the second three are distinct books. Without a doubt, UKL's words are magnificent whenever and wherever one encounters them. But oh, how these words sear!

There are meditations on life and death, on the differences between women and men, on the relationship between dragonkind and humankind, and on the divide between mage and commoner. It is masterfully crafted.

And of course, this:


“I think,” Tehanu said in her soft, strange voice, “that when I die, I can breathe back the breath that made me live. I can give back to the world all that I didn't do. All that I might have been and couldn't be. All the choices I didn't make. All the things I lost and spent and wasted. I can give them back to the world. To the lives that haven't been lived yet. That will be my gift back to the world that gave me the life I did live, the love I loved, the breath I breathed.”

Her words carry a profound wisdom and a sense of acceptance. It makes one reflect on the value of life and the choices we make.

These books offer a unique and thought-provoking exploration of various themes, leaving the reader with much to ponder and contemplate.

The collection of six volumes of "Darya Zamin" along with the book "Badi Digar" was completed in a way that created happy memories of the cow, the donkey, and the hen for me and introduced me to amazing new lands for my imagination.

Ursula K. Le Guin, in this collection, created the first generation of magical fantasies with female heroes and wrote about the School of Magic when the School of Magic did not even exist.

This novel is written for young people and in my opinion, it is very suitable especially for children aged eleven to fifteen. Before they head to Harry Potter or Narnia, it is very good for them to read this collection because it is shorter and also gives very good life lessons that are very understandable. For example, that in the darkest moments of life, there is always a light that we must find, that our destiny is in our own hands, or that no human being is completely good or completely bad and that even if you come into the world with a special intelligence or ability, if you do not have effort, practice, and perseverance, you will not reach success.

The Other Wind is a truly remarkable book.

When I first read it, I didn't have a profound appreciation for it. However, upon a second reading, I came to understand its significance and how it neatly fits into the overall narrative. It is less disjointed than Tehanu, at least for me, and follows on smoothly. It effectively utilizes all the ideas and emotions presented in Tehanu. Set a considerable time after Tehanu, it makes the most sense if you have read Dragonfly from Tales from Earthsea beforehand. The first time I attempted to read The Other Wind, I hadn't read Dragonfly, and I was completely clueless about who Orm Irian was and why she was important.

One aspect that I didn't like in The Farthest Shore was the portrayal of death. It was hard to view it as such a heinous crime to return from a place that was so desolate and miserable, where lovers could pass each other on the street without a care. The Other Wind rectifies this. What I find interesting is that at the end of The Farthest Shore, and presumably also at the end of Tehanu, the author thought the series had ended. But this book fits so seamlessly and clearly, as if it was always intended to be part of the story.

The writing in The Other Wind is once again beautiful in certain passages. In Tehanu, I found the writing to be rather ordinary, which matched the subject matter. However, in this book, there are some truly gorgeous quotes. One of my favorites is the one by Tehanu: "I think," Tehanu said in her soft, strange voice, "that when I die, I can breathe back the breath that made me live. I can give back to the world all that I didn't do. All that I might have been and couldn't be. All the choices I didn't make. All the things I lost and spent and wasted. I can give them back to the world. To the lives that haven't been lived yet. That will be my gift back to the world that gave me the life I did live, the love I loved, the breath I breathed."

Along with the recurring theme of life and death, and the way one gives value to the other, we also have more criticism of the male-dominated system and the male way of thinking in Earthsea. It's unclear how much of this is meant to be political commentary and how much is Ursula Le Guin simply exploring her own world. It's interesting that she introduced what is basically a burqa without explicitly commenting on whether it is anti-feminist or not. Sesarakh does come out from behind her veil, but I didn't get the impression that Le Guin was making a statement like "omg burqas r evol!".

In terms of characters, we have many familiar faces from other books, but there are also some new ones. Chief among these are Alder and Sesarakh. I don't think it's fully explained why Alder is the center of all this. It doesn't quite make sense when he's just a town sorcerer. However, it does break the pattern of Roke-wizards being all-important, as does the inclusion of Seppal. And it's something that could happen in real life - an "ordinary" person getting caught up in great events. Also, wasn't Ged ordinary at the beginning? So maybe it doesn't need a better explanation. Anyway, I didn't become as attached to Alder as I did to Ged or Lebannen, but he did make me smile on occasion. And I was sad at the end.

Sesarakh is an interesting character, another avenue for the discussion of the female in Earthsea. I didn't grow to love her as a character, nor did I really feel the romance between her and Lebannen. But that wasn't really the point. I did want to kick Lebannen, though, for the way he treats and thinks about her. But Tenar had him under control, really.

I was initially going to say that The Other Wind isn't my favorite book in the series, but upon reflection, I don't see why it shouldn't be. It brings together and continues the work that, in hindsight, all the other books began. It offers some bright and beautiful images and some hope for what lies beyond death. And I don't see why it can't be both an education and a comfort to us as well. "Only in dying, life" is a truth that applies to us too.

And so the Earthsea saga comes to an end.

As masterful as she is, I think Le Guin would freely admit that when she set out to write the Wizard of Earthsea, she did not plan for it to end this way. Where I found Tehanu to be a great reconciliation between a wiser, older Le Guin, Ged, Tenar, and their younger more ambitious selves, I'm not sure that's worked as well here.

There's a lot more talking in this one but not a lot is said. The novels with Ged as the central character mostly orbit around meaning through action. In fact, Ged sums it up himself in The Farthest Shore.

\\n  “When I was young, I had to choose between the life of being and the life of doing. And I leapt at the latter like a trout to a fly. But each deed you do, each act, binds you to itself and to its consequences, and makes you act again and yet again. Then very seldom do you come upon a space, a time like this, between act and act, when you may stop and simply be. Or wonder who, after all, you are.”\\n

or as he puts it in this book

\\n  \\"He had spent his life learning how to choose to do what he had no choice but to do.\\"\\n

Ged learns, explores and fights his way to the end of the 3rd book where he is a burnt out husk. In Tehanu, he found another path to meaning. An acceptance of ageing and the triumph of time over all things. I would have been happy with the story ending there just as I was happy with the story ending at The Farthest Shore. But something called Le Guin back, she felt she wasn't done. You can definitely feel her desire to keep weaving women deeper into the story to atone for the \\"wicked as women's magic\\" from the first few novels but beyond that it's a bit of a damp squib.

The journey is not perilous, the odds despite being long don't feel that stacked against the main characters. The force they're fighting is both the legacy of their ancestors and their own ignorance. Their ancestors are largely nameless and faceless, though we know that wizards set up the low stone wall to seek eternal life we don't know who specifically and so we have a crime without a perpetrator. I guess it doesn't really matter and it gives the current wizards an alibi against the dragons. We are also led to believe that these wizards that have studied their craft for centuries are aware of the stories about the making of the world and perform wizadry in the tongue of that same making, the language of the dragons, but have never considered that as a valid explanation of the difference between them and the dragons. Or considered the implications of those stories for the world of Earthsea.

What probably frustrates me the most about this book though is the deep neutering of Ged. In Tehanu, I felt his new life as an old, wise man without power was well handled. In this, he's pretty much removed entirely from the story, except for a very brief interaction, and the other character's remarks on his absence. Sure he seeks solitude but he still has all that wisdom and really should know the most about the situation considering he's one of only two people alive who went across the low stone wall and returned. I can see Le Guin wrote him out to focus on others and particularly their teamwork but I don't feel any of them had the appeal of Ged. Before his loss of power he was already humble, after his loss of power he was mentally, spiritually, and physically humble, he could be no other way. He is such a great character when compared to the \\"heroes\\" of most commercial fantasy.

Lebannen is a poor substitute for Ged, he's basically a prince charming who can do no wrong but displays no competency except to be born perfect. He gets a bit grumpy because it's necessary for the romance part of the novel but it's pretty damn boring and almost more trite than Twilight. Equally, Alder is introduced to us and I thought he would be some kind of parallel for Ged but he's not really developed at all and basically becomes window dressing for the rest of the story.

The implications of the last book are my real point of contention. I would say that they bring in to question all of Ged's previous work. He risked everything to right the world; restore the ring of Erreth-Akebe, fight and defeat Cob, to unify Earthsea. All of that is meaningless compared to this low stone wall. Which they just needed to tear down. It seems odd to me.

The answer to this is in the publication dates of the books.

The Wizard of Earthsea - 1968

The Tombs of Atuan - 1971

The Farthest Shore - 1972

Tehanu - 1990

Tales From Earthsea - 2001

The Other Wind - 2001

While Tehanu worked well as a balancing of the ledger, another 10 years on and I feel The Other Wind driving the dagger into the heart of the original trilogy. In The Tombs of Atuan, we learned about the Kargish and their horrible ways and imprisonment of Tenar. Now we learn that they were right all along. A message that would have been fine if it didn't undermine the logic of the first few books. We also found that Irain was a dragon woman just like Tehanu but it's not explained at all other than it being a very convenient plot device.

Some may ask why does Tales from Earthsea feel better than The Other Wind if they were published in the same year. Because Tales from Earthsea has two old stories from the 70's, two new ones but of a history before Ged, and a bridging novella. None of the stories seek to undermine the original trilogy in the way The Other Wind does. In fact The Other Wind is essentially vampiric, it must suck the life and logic from the original trilogy for it to make sense. Le Guin has always had a talent with the unsaid, with silence as a holder of meaning, here I think she eschews that talent and unfortunately has characters talking where previously there would be silence. This whole novel feels to me an act of noise where silence would have sufficed. I never thought I'd say this but I think Ursula Le Guin has written a less than great novel. I would not recommend this book. Stop at Tehanu and be at peace.

You may miss just a couple of Le Guin gems if you choose not to read though so here they are.

“So maybe the difference isn't language. Maybe it's this: animals do neither good nor evil. They do as they must do. We may call what they do harmful or useful, but good and evil belong to us, who chose to choose what we do. The dragons are dangerous, yes. They can do harm, yes. But they're not evil. They're beneath our morality, if you will, like any animal. Or beyond it. They have nothing to do with it.

We must choose and choose again. The animals need only be and do. We're yoked, and they're free. So to be with an animal is to know a little freedom...

“The world’s vast and strange, Hara, but no vaster and no stranger than our minds are.\\"

“I’d rather get bad news from an honest man than lies from a flatterer,”

AH! PURE PLEASURE!

This simple exclamation holds a world of meaning. It represents that moment when all the cares and worries of the world seem to fade away, and we are left with nothing but pure, unadulterated joy. It could be the pleasure of a warm sunny day, the taste of a delicious meal, or the company of a loved one. Whatever it may be, pure pleasure is a feeling that we all strive for in our lives.

Sometimes, we take these moments of pleasure for granted. We are so caught up in the hustle and bustle of our daily lives that we forget to stop and appreciate the simple things that bring us joy. But when we do take the time to savor these moments, we realize just how precious they are. They give us the strength and energy to face the challenges that come our way, and they remind us that life is meant to be enjoyed.

So the next time you experience a moment of pure pleasure, take a deep breath, soak it in, and let it fill your heart with happiness. Because these moments are what make life truly worth living.

While reading "The Tombs of Atuan", I often let out silent exclamations: "What an amazing book this is." I think "The Tombs of Atuan" was the most solid in terms of the plot; that's why it became my favorite. Although the plot of "The Farthest Shore" was weak, in terms of the clarity of the message it wanted to convey, it was the most successful one; and it also made an effort by sometimes reminding us of İhsan Oktay Anar. "Tehanu" is the sequel that comes years after the trilogy. Full of surprises, "Tehanu" also gives a hint of the wonderful ending that awaits us in the last book, "The Other Wind". In "Tales from Earthsea", the fifth book of the series, we read five different stories with completely different characters in the lead. The fact that the characters we know are sometimes mentioned in these stories and, of course, that the stories take place in the geography of Earthsea includes the book in the series. Since I translated that last page that I never wanted to translate, I can say this: Yes, the series is over, but my business with Ursula K. Le Guin is not over. Because she is an amazing writer, and for me, she has become like a second Saramago. I have almost fallen in love with the world she created. I think everyone should read this series, and my recommendation is with stars. =)