Te echaré de menos.

This simple sentence holds a world of meaning. It expresses the deep sense of loss and longing that one feels when someone dear is about to leave or is already gone.

Espero que nos volvamos a encontrar.

The hope of reuniting is like a shining light in the darkness. It gives us the strength to move forward and believe that there is still a chance to see that person again.

Gracias por todo...

These words of gratitude are a way to show appreciation for all the good times, the memories, and the support that the other person has given.

… nada más que decir.

Sometimes, there are no more words left to say. The emotions are so overwhelming that we can only let the silence speak for itself.

In conclusion, these few lines capture the essence of a离别 (parting). They express the pain of separation, the hope of reunion, and the gratitude for the past.

It is a reminder that even though we may have to say goodbye for now, the memories and the love will always remain in our hearts.

He was an extraordinary sailor, indeed. Arren had gleaned more knowledge in just three days of sailing with him than in a decade of boating and racing on Berila Bay. And the connection between a mage and a sailor was closer than one might think; both harnessed the powers of the sky and the sea, bending the mighty winds to their will, bringing the distant near. Whether it was the Archmage or Hawk the sea-trader, in essence, it amounted to much the same.

He was a rather taciturn man, yet always in good humor. No clumsiness on Arren's part ever irked him; he was a companionable soul, and Arren thought there could be no better shipmate. But he would often retreat into his own thoughts and remain silent for hours on end. Then, when he did speak, there would be a harshness in his voice, and he would look right through Arren. This didn't diminish the love the boy felt for him, but perhaps it lessened his liking a little; it was a bit awe-inspiring. Maybe Sparrowhawk sensed this, for on that foggy night off the shores of Wathort, he began to talk to Arren, rather haltingly, about himself.

He confessed that he didn't want to go among men the next day. He had been pretending that he was free, that nothing was amiss in the world, that he wasn't the Archmage, not even a sorcerer. He was just Hawk of Temere, without responsibilities or privileges, owing nothing to anyone. He then went on to say that when the great choices had to be made, one should choose carefully. He recalled that when he was young, he had to choose between the life of being and the life of doing. And he had eagerly chosen the latter, like a trout lunging for a fly. But with each deed he did, each act bound him to itself and its consequences, making him act again and again. He rarely came upon a space, a time like this, between acts, when he could stop and simply be. Or wonder who, after all, he was.

Arren was amazed. How could such a man be in doubt about who and what he was? He had thought such doubts were reserved for the young, who had not yet accomplished anything.
They rocked in the vast, cool darkness. Sparrowhawk's voice broke the silence, saying that's why he liked the sea. Arren understood him, but his own thoughts raced ahead, as they had been doing for all these three days and nights, to their quest, the purpose of their sailing. And since his companion was finally in a talkative mood, he asked if he thought they would find what they were seeking in Hort Town. Sparrowhawk shook his head, perhaps meaning no, perhaps indicating that he didn't know.
Arren then wondered if it could be a kind of pestilence, a plague that drifted from land to land, blighting the crops, the flocks, and men's spirits. Sparrowhawk explained that a pestilence was a motion of the great balance, of the Equilibrium itself; this was different. There was a stench of evil in it. He said that when the balance of things righted itself, they might suffer for it, but they did not lose hope, nor did they forego art, or forget the words of the Making. Nature was not unnatural. This was not a righting of the balance but an upsetting of it. And there was only one creature who could do that.
Arren tentatively guessed a man. Sparrowhawk confirmed that it was men. He further elaborated that it was because of an unmeasured desire for life. When men craved power over life - endless wealth, unassailable safety, immortality - then desire turned into greed. And if knowledge allied itself with that greed, then evil ensued. Then the balance of the world was swayed, and ruin loomed large.
Arren pondered this for a while and finally asked if he thought it was a man they were seeking. Sparrowhawk affirmed that it was a man and a mage. He then went on to say that while the great arts of wizardry were supposed to be dependent on the Balance, the Equilibrium of things, and thus not usable for evil, this was a debatable point. He mentioned that every land of Earthsea knew of witches who cast unclean spells and sorcerers who used their art to amass riches. But there was more. He spoke of the Firelord, who had sought to undo the darkness and stop the sun at noon, and the Enemy of Morred, who had caused whole cities to kneel and armies to fight for him. The spells they wove were so powerful that even when they were slain, the effects could not be halted. He said that they were men in whom great strength and knowledge served the will to evil and fed upon it. Whether the wizardry that served a better end would always prove stronger, they didn't know. They could only hope.
Arren found a certain bleakness in finding hope where he had expected certainty. He didn't want to dwell on these cold summits any longer. After a short while, he said that he saw why Sparrowhawk said that only men did evil. Even sharks were innocent, as they killed because they had to. Sparrowhawk then replied that this was why nothing could resist men. Only one thing in the world could resist an evil-hearted man, and that was another man. In their shame lay their glory. Only their spirit, which was capable of evil, was also capable of overcoming it.

4 1/2 stars

I do not care what comes after;

I have witnessed the magnificent dragons soaring on the gentle wind of the morning.

Their scales glisten in the golden sunlight, as if they are made of precious jewels.

The sight is so breathtaking that it makes my heart race with excitement and wonder.

I stand there, completely transfixed, unable to take my eyes off these mythical creatures.

They seem to be free and powerful, defying the laws of nature and soaring through the sky with ease.

In that moment, I feel a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that I have seen something truly extraordinary.

It doesn't matter what challenges or difficulties lie ahead;

the memory of the dragons on the wind of morning will stay with me forever, giving me strength and inspiration to face whatever comes my way.

The third volume of the Terramar Books has a certain tone of twilight fantasy.

Although the story takes us through various landscapes, the narrative becomes leisurely again.

I like it very much, but my favorites remain the first two books.

This volume seems to have a unique charm that combines elements of mystery and wonder.

The author's vivid descriptions make it easy for readers to immerse themselves in the fictional world.

However, compared to the first two volumes, which had a more intense and engaging plot, this one feels a bit slower-paced.

Nonetheless, it still manages to hold the reader's attention with its interesting characters and imaginative settings.

Overall, while it may not be my absolute favorite, the third volume of the Terramar Books is still a worthwhile read for fans of the series.

I didn't initially understand that "Farthest Shore" was going to be so - I'm tempted to say 'literal with', yet the title and approach are literally figurative - centered around the actual exploration of the philosophy of dying, of life and death (and by extension, immortality).

It's still too soon to make any claims about my personal favorite books in the series, as I've read so little of it thus far. However, there is a certain maturity of thought in this book compared to the first one, which is a highly favorable aspect.

Le Guin's prose and world-building are, of course, as they can only be: epically strong and seemingly effortless in their persuasiveness.

______

Reading updates.

“Una escritora vive y trabaja en el mundo en el que nació, y no importa cuán firme sea su propio propósito, o cuan lejano parezcan sus temas y su trabajo están sujetos a los vientos cambiantes y las corrientes del mundo.”

Ursula K Le Guin, in the introduction of this third novel, comments that she wrote it during what she considered “un tiempo de grandes mareas y grandes vientos, de muchas esperanza y locura salvaje.” It was the 1960s, a period characterized by the movement to liberate America from racist injustice and militarism, with a true vision of breaking free from compulsive materialism and the confusion between “bienes” and “bien.” However, as she admits, much of that vision dissipated in naïve thoughts and drug addiction.

All of this is reflected in the novel and the experiences of its characters. While the second part delved us into the so-called “magical” darkness, here we encounter another type of evil, the one intrinsic in each of us and taking the form of egoism. Camus had already spoken of this in his novel “La Peste” just a decade before, and it’s truly interesting to see how the author also considered it this way.

“¿ Qué es el mal?” preguntó el hombre más joven. La telaraña redonda, con su centro negro parecia observarlos. “Una tela que tejemos nosotros, los hombres” - respondió Ged.

Additionally, I want to emphasize that Ursula K Le Guin was not just a writer who focused on telling us a story of fantasy and action. The genre presents us with different worlds, with extraordinary creatures that usually inhabit our legends or emerge from the author’s imagination. It proposes a villain, a hero, and an assigned task to defeat that “evil.” However, little thought is given to the reflections: what a character might think about their task, or their way of thinking, or why they are acting as they do. This, in a way, idealizes the heroes, when in reality they are just ordinary men/women like you or me who have lived through different circumstances. This is something that Ursula K Le Guin aims to show.

“Procura elegir con cuidado, Arren, cuando te llegue la hora de las grandes opciones. Cuando yo era joven tuve que escoger entre la vida del ser y la vida de actuar. Y salté a la segunda como una trucha sobre una mosca. Pero cada uno de tus gestos, cada acto, te ata a él y a sus consecuencias, y te obliga a actuar otra vez, y otra vez. Y es muy raro, entonces, que encuentres un espacio, un momento de tiempo como éste, entre acto y acto, en el que puedes detenerte y simplemente ser. O preguntarte quién, a fin de cuentas, eres tú.”

Sincerely, it makes me a bit angry that this author didn’t have the recognition she has now in the 21st century. I think she is a very good writer and I never tire of reading her stories, although it’s true that between each of her novels I need a break. Her books, despite being wonderful and short, are still quite profound and, as I said before, make you reflect. Once I finish this six-book saga, I’m sure I’ll reread it and delight again in her prose, her worlds, and her great characters.

“La pequeña alma traicionera que hay en nosotros en la oscuridad como una araña en una caja. Nos habla a todos. Pero solo algunos la comprenden. Los magos, los trovadores, los hacedores. Y los héroes, los que buscan ser ellos mismos. Ser uno mismo es una cosa rara, y grande. Ser uno mismo para siempre, ¿no es más grande todavía?”

All three books of the original Earthsea trilogy have always held a special place among my most beloved books of all time. Whether in my childhood or now, I have always thought that The Farthest Shore was the weakest of the three. However, my reasons for feeling this way now are different from what they were then.

Now, the main focus of the book seems to work better for me. The concept of dealing with the consequences of one's own actions, as well as LeGuin's idea of evil and the ineffable spark that makes life worth living, which is composed of joy, creativity, and a sense of purpose (also magic), all resonate with me.

I understand that LeGuin was working within an intentionally traditional framework to tell her story. But this time, I find it curious that for an author known for exploring non-traditional government and social structures and emphasizing personal responsibility, she presents a young prince, Arren, who is destined to rule by 'divine' right simply because of his bloodline. Hmm. Nevertheless, I really like the fact that in this book, the previous book's assumption about the magical symbol that will bring peace to all the lands is shown to be somewhat incorrect. It hasn't worked as well as expected.

Like many elements in this book, it illustrates that nothing is permanently stable and that a state of balance, such as the balance between life and death, must be constantly maintained. The book is about the need for both outer and inner balance, about accepting fear and not letting it control you. As the quote goes, "This is. And thou art. There is no safety, and there is no end. The word must be heard in silence; there must be darkness to see the stars. The dance is always danced above the hollow place, above the terrible abyss."

Overall, The Farthest Shore has its strengths and weaknesses, but it still manages to offer thought-provoking ideas and a captivating story.

Smoki and the rest of it ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Smoki is an interesting name. It might bring to mind various images or ideas. Maybe it's a nickname for someone who has a certain charm or allure. Or perhaps it's related to something smoky, like a fire or a mist.

The "rest of it" could refer to a whole bunch of other things. It could be a group of people, a collection of objects, or a set of circumstances. Without more context, it's hard to say exactly what it means.

But regardless of what Smoki and the rest of it actually are, those six hearts at the end give the impression of love or affection. Maybe it's a sign of someone's deep feelings for Smoki and everything associated with it.

In conclusion, while the meaning of "Smoki and the rest of it ❤❤❤❤❤❤" may be somewhat mysterious, it definitely piques our curiosity and makes us wonder what lies behind those words.

The story progresses perhaps a bit slower than the other two. However, it is just as wonderful. Ursula Le Guin's style, simple and clear, constructs a story about life and death, along the thread of a bildungsroman, the path of the formation of a young prince. The teachings that he gains and the experiences that he goes through are invaluable and shape him as a person and as a king.

I absolutely loved the dragons and the way the story weaves them into its fabric.

The narrative takes its time to unfold, allowing the reader to fully immerse in the world and the characters. The young prince's journey is one of growth and self-discovery, filled with challenges and lessons.

The dragons add an element of magic and mystery to the story, making it even more captivating. Their presence and actions drive the plot forward and add an exciting dimension to the narrative.

Overall, this is a beautiful and engaging story that showcases Ursula Le Guin's talent as a writer.

This has always been my least favourite of the Earthsea books.

The central conflict around which the whole book revolves makes this somewhat inevitable. It's about the dying out of magic, about death, the fight against it, and the fear of it. Here, few people are whole and complete, able to see the world as it truly is rather than wishing it were something else. Ged, of course, is one of those rare individuals. He is the Archmage for a reason, and more importantly, he has faced the dark side of himself and accepted it.

However, the story is not primarily about Ged. It is mainly about Arren and his journey to kingship. We saw Ged from an outside point of view in The Tombs of Atuan, and it's not as if Tenar completely trusted or respected him immediately. But Arren's distrust and indifference at times are grating, especially when set against his initial hero worship.

I can see the beauty of the story, of what Ged does, but I don't enjoy it. It's like a shadow of a story, a feeling of foreboding - the shadow at the door. In part, it's an ending to an adventure that I craved more of. It makes sense that Earthsea has to change, but that doesn't reconcile me to the fact.

Needless to say, Ursula Le Guin's writing is excellent, and that's not the problem.

Originally posted here.

“Being oneself is a rare and great thing. To be oneself forever, isn't it even greater?”

  “Ser uno mismo es una cosa rara, y grande. Ser uno mismo para siempre, ¿no es más grande todavía?”

Returning for the third time to the world of Terramar in this adventure that takes us through inhospitable lands and gloomy paths.

For now, it is the book that I have most enjoyed in this saga, highlighting the wonderful dialogues between the two protagonists as they go in search of the final enemy to eradicate the evil that plagues the whole world.

“And I know that there is only one power worth having. And that is the power, not to take, but to accept. Not to have, but to give.”

And indeed, I have lost count of the reflections that this reading allows, about destiny, death, and in general, life itself.

The ending seemed to me one of the most beautiful, emotional, and epic that I have read in my life. It seems crazy to me that in so few pages I have lived such an intense and emotional journey. Ursula has once again won my admiration.

As a final touch, I leave what seems to me one of the most memorable quotes in the fantasy genre:

“I don't care what may happen afterwards; I have seen the dragons in the morning wind.”

This book is a true gem, filled with profound thoughts and captivating adventures. It makes you think about the meaning of life and the power of acceptance. The relationship between the two protagonists is heartwarming and their journey is one that will stay with you long after you finish reading. Ursula's writing is masterful, creating a world that is both vivid and believable. I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves fantasy and wants to embark on a journey of self-discovery.

There must be darkness to see the stars

This is perhaps my eighth or ninth encounter with the works of Le Guin, and I remain in awe of her as a writer and as an overall remarkable and thoughtful individual. The third installment in the Earthsea series is strikingly different from the first two and stands out as the best among them. We once again meet the character Sparrowhawk, or Ged, who embarks on a seafaring adventure with a young prince named Arren. Their objective is somewhat模糊, but there is a sense of unease and a weakening of the power of wizardry, prompting them to set out and uncover the problem.

The journey unfolds in ways one might not anticipate. It is not a typical, lighthearted adventure story. Instead, it delves deep into the bitterness, resentment, and distrustful nature of humanity. Ged and Arren traverse unfriendly villages, encounter disgraced and deranged mages, and even face their own doubts and mistrust. Arren evolves from an eager protege to someone completely distrustful of Ged, believing their quest is a fruitless endeavor as they teeter on the brink of starvation at sea.

As the story progresses, they eventually discover the source of the decay in a long-lost mage who has found a way to cheat death and live forever in a perverse, resurrected state in the pursuit of greed. One of the most profound lessons from this book is the power and impact of an individual's actions, whether they are good or self-serving. Every action and inaction has consequences, and we are accountable for them.

Arren's growth throughout the journey is truly remarkable, preparing him to assume the role of the benevolent king that Ged had envisioned. Ged's ultimate wisdom to his friend, traveling companion, and protégé Arren can be encapsulated in this final line: "I know that there is only one power that is real and worth having. And that is the power, not to take, but to accept." The cool, crisp writing, along with the beautiful nuggets of wisdom and philosophy, and the captivating characters, make this an unforgettable read.