Before I review this book, I feel it's crucial to provide some context.

Here are the works:

A Wizard of Earthsea (1968)

The Tombs of Atuan (1971)

The Farthest Shore (1972)

Tehanu: The Last Book of Earthsea (1990)

Notably, the dates are significant.

The real disappointment of this book is that it doesn't have to be a continuation of Ged's story. In fact, it shouldn't be.

The first three books of the Earthsea cycle are among the finest and most deeply moving fantasy novels ever written. Collectively, they might have half the word count of The Fellowship of The Ring, yet they cover ten times as much plot and possess hundreds of times the emotional impact of the latter.

The leading lady, Tenar, reactively bounces from one man to another for either menace or protection as suitable, while half-heartedly mumbling about male dominance in the fantasy world. This would have been... bearable if Le Guin hadn't then taken a hatchet to Ged's character to make some rather unpleasant and misandrist remarks about the Nature of Male Character In General.

Simultaneously, the titular character is introduced as a confusing metaphor for the power of women through... dragons, perhaps?

As a standalone novel, it would be mediocre-to-bad fantasy. As a conclusion to the Earthsea Cycle, it is a disaster. Please, please read the first three and then never read this one.

TL;DR: Men are depicted as one-dimensional and egotistical, while women are portrayed as mysterious, complex, and powerful.

The Farthest Shore gave a sense of completeness. If you're new to the series, it might be a good place to stop. Spoilers ahead.

LeGuin spent three books developing Ged into a full and interesting character. But here, he seems to regress. He was supposed to have learned not to rely on magic, yet now he appears almost helpless without it. He should have been reduced to a more human state, not a limp noodle.

Interestingly, the book seems to suggest that the level of a man is like that of a wet noodle, while a woman is dark, complex, and powerful. It's okay to only teach Tehanu carding, as if that's all women should do. Tenar needs Ged, as if a woman always needs a man, even if he's not much. It implies that women only borrow power from men.

This book actually seems sexist towards both genders.

The relationship between Tenar and Ged is a big letdown. In the previous book, their interaction was refreshingly free of excessive love or awkwardness. But now, Tenar realizes they should have fallen in love, and LeGuin forces this upon them.

Our female lead, Tenar, is bitter and old. Her life has been full of disappointments, and we're constantly reminded of what she used to be. Meanwhile, Tehanu, the most interesting character with the potential to be a great one, is largely ignored and shuffled around.

Ged's magic is well-explained over the course of three books and is presented as a male magic. In contrast, woman's magic is described as complicated, dark, and elliptical. It only manifests in serving, and we're not given much more information about it.

Overall, this book was both interesting and frustrating. It was at odds with the trilogy and didn't really add much on its own. But now, because of the dragons, I feel compelled to read the next book, The Other Wind.

Here's a theme: many series seem to lose their charm after the third book. I didn't read past the third Douglas Adams book, and Asimov's Foundation series went downhill after the trilogy. Earthsea should probably have remained a trilogy. I hope I never make the mistake of extending a series like this.

This book was truly outstanding, devastatingly good to be precise.

I am extremely glad that I chose to read it at a later stage in my life, instead of attempting to do so when I was younger.

Some books have an incredibly profound impact when read at the appropriate age.

Now that I am older, wiser, and possess a rather detailed understanding of what it means to be a woman living in this world, Tehanu affected me in just the right manner.

It was truly amazing.

The story within its pages seemed to resonate with my experiences and emotions on a deeper level.

It explored themes that I could now fully appreciate and understand.

Every word, every sentence, felt like a powerful blow that left me in awe.

I found myself completely immersed in the world that the author had created, and it was a journey that I will never forget.

This book has truly become a part of me, and I will cherish it always.

OK, so I've finally overcome my procrastination and started typing.

The first three Earthsea books were penned within a relatively brief period (published between 1969 and 1973, if I recall correctly). When I first picked up "A Wizard of Earthsea," they were all there, perhaps just over a decade after its initial release - the series was complete. Let's be honest, there was no real need for a fourth book. Ged was growing old, his magic had vanished, but Earthsea had a King and the Rune of Peace once more. The story seemed over. Then, after a hiatus almost as long as my age at that time, "Tehanu" was released.

"What on earth??????!!!!!!," I exclaimed loudly and promptly bought a copy. Maybe Ged would regain his magic, I thought. Maybe he would sail the North Reach - or perhaps even have to journey to Hogenland, I mused. In reality, he returns home, herds some goats, and gets married. Imagine my astonishment! The entire book is set on Gont, there is no grand quest, and Ged simply mopes around, feeling miserable. What a load of rubbish, I initially thought.

However, of course, this is Ursula LeGuin, so it's not rubbish at all (although there are quite a few unpleasant odors described). Instead, there is a quiet excellence, and I was being foolish, caught in the trap of the gap between my expectations and the reality.

"Tehanu" is not epic fantasy. Tough luck. Get over it. It might take a long time, though. Every time I re-read the Earthsea books after 1990, I was tempted to skip "Tehanu," but each time I liked it more than the previous time. By the time "The Other Wind" was released, it didn't even occur to me to skip its predecessor.

How do I feel this time around? I feel that there are the original Earthsea books and there are the New Earthsea books, and that "Tehanu" is the first of these, even though it was never planned either when "A Wizard of Earthsea" was written or that two more books would follow it. The latter three books seem to be a response to the first three and to epic fantasy in general. In other words, the Great Feminist Revision of Earthsea began here, albeit in a small, quiet way, with one woman taking in an abused child and a lost man mourning for his lost power.

The discussion of the roles of women in Archipeligan society is clearly a reflection of the discussion of women's roles in the "real" world as well as in epic fantasy more broadly. Tenar's position as a mother, farm manager, and laborer is undervalued and hardly noticed. It might as well be called "housewife." It's very sexist, as is the distinction between wizards (men) and witches (women). Wizards are powerful, educated, noble, and wise. Witches are dirty, poor, weak, and evil. Unfortunately, the wizards aren't always wise or noble; sometimes they are stupid, self-serving, and nasty. And while the witches are often selfish, at least they haven't been seeking immortality or disrupting the natural order with their magic. When Ged and Tenar discuss this, it's painful to hear Ged spout a bunch of sexist nonsense. I expect better from him. He's just a victim of his education, though, and it's hard to question everything you've been taught. And am I really any different? I've been brought up to believe that women deserve respect, equal opportunity, equal reward, and that child-rearing and managing a home are important and difficult jobs. I didn't come to these conclusions in the face of overwhelming pressure to conform to the opposite.

I can also better relate to Ged's situation now. It must be extremely difficult to go from being the most powerful man in the world to being weaker than most, unprepared, and in such a short space of time. It's unsurprising and natural that he should grieve for what he has lost. Fortunately for him, he finds Tenar, who gives him something different in its place: love. Their romance seems entirely natural, indeed, almost latent in "The Tombs of Atuan."

So, as usual, LeGuin provides deep insights and excellent characterizations and makes a powerful and important point. However, this book only gets three stars because of LeGuin's one weakness - the plotting. Here, the plot meanders, disappears, comes back, goes away again, and then sort of piles up at the edge of a cliff and gets squashed under Kalessin's belly. This lack of narrative drive is the only flaw in the book, which, thankfully, despite its themes, never devolves into mere male-bashing. It was an anti-climactic end to the series, though - I'm so glad that "The Last Book of Earthsea" turned out to be a terrible misnomer.

When I finished the third book of the series (in a way, I was also finishing the author's first goal), I laid out the entire story in my mind and realized how very'male' the story was, and I was quite surprised. After all, Ursula is, in today's world, one of the most important and popular faces of female power in fantastic literature. She has works that deal with women and their power and that bring legitimate criticisms of the male system. In fact, she is almost a guide, an icon in this field. So when reading Earthsea, I had expected to see points, subtexts, etc. where I would always feel the influence of Margaret Atwood. With the release of the third book, I was seriously shocked that she had written a story where women were overlooked.

Then I started this book. Not only me, but Ursula, who probably only became aware of this situation years later, must have been very bothered by it; she wrote this sequel in the direction of 'atonement'. I wish she hadn't been bothered, I wish she hadn't written it. It was so didactic, so blatant, so primitive that I was shocked while reading it. In fact, the story she captured through Therru could have been the subject of a wonderful book. It could have even become a huge masterpiece on its own or, in a related way, the best book of the series. In my opinion, the most original story in the fantastic genre so far was hidden within this book. However, Ursula wanted to show her findings and criticisms on the issue of men and women so much that the novel has literally become a showcase for her thoughts. And the story has also tried to find a very difficult place for itself in that showcase.

-Spoiler start-
At the end of the third book, we left Ged powerless but in his wisest form. He had lived a normal life for many years, been the main hero of the great events that realized the prophecies; he had been the second greatest wizard that Earthsea had seen up to that point. What had happened? He had found the great king that the era was waiting for, gone to the underworld of death, solved the problem of an evil of divine magnitude, died while solving it and been reborn and lived again but had lost his powers. Now this Ursula of mine wanted to put a female foot into the story, or she had trampled on this man like an ant. What happened to the catharses, the enlightenments, the maturations? By pushing them all with the back of her hand, she wrote this part where Ged appears almost as a comic side character. Since the only strong (!) female character in the first three books was Arha/Tenar, she showed us that the female protagonist defeated the male protagonist by bringing Therru to the fore, whose origin we could never even guess from her predecessors. (Probably the origin of Therru is also explained in the following books.:)) But in my opinion, it should never have happened. So much so that Tenar, who tells her son, "Put the dishes in the sink, I'm your mother, not your servant," has literally become a grotesque character in the series.
-Spoiler end-

Fantastic stories have their own worlds. When a new system, a new world is created, even if the author does not explain the hidden points down to the tiniest detail; since the reader has now become a resident of that place, he starts to question it in a three-dimensional way and live in it in his own way. When this happens, the reader can find gaps and mistakes in some points that the author never thought of and feel disappointed. Therefore, this kind of series contains stories where the first thing that comes to mind should not be written and a much more panoramic approach is necessary. Otherwise, as in every owned fantasy, the author adds more books to the series for his son, his niece, his fan so that the gaps in that world turn into pluses. And it is at this point that, as an author, you wait for so many years but end up with such an addition. Ursula is an incredibly productive author in terms of quantity, and as she herself said, she can work on five works at the same time; perhaps this is why she is the painter of such a picture. I don't know. The series has become what it could have been in that beautiful form.

I can only be shocked when an adult fantastic reader does not agree with me:)

Love, good readings. May the power of the ancient language be upon you.

Note: Since I gave three stars to the first book of the series, I'm giving two stars so as not to be unfair to them. Otherwise, I would also like to point out that they are not as good as the books I usually give two stars to.

Le Guin has faced criticism for not being a feminist enough in the initial three books of the series, yet has received praise for achieving a balance in the last three books. However, in my opinion, I had a greater preference for the first part of the series. The reason being that it was written in a natural manner. In the second part, Le Guin seemed overly conscious of the critics' remarks regarding the first part, which made her writing come across as preachy to me. When comparing Tehanu to The Wizard of Earthsea, Tehanu felt extremely unnatural. This unnaturalness actually hindered my enjoyment, despite the fact that I am a woman and fully support gender equality. It is true that Tehanu contains a better message than The Wizard of Earthsea, but books are not solely about the messages they convey. There are other aspects such as the writing style, the flow of the story, and the overall atmosphere that contribute to the reader's experience. And in this regard, the first part of the series simply appealed to me more.

I was completely unprepared.

If "Wizard of Earthsea" is a captivating coming of age tale, and "Atuan" delves deep into the power of self, while "Farthest Shore" speaks volumes about death and the might of adulthood, then "Tehanu" is undeniably the story that explores the power of the feminine.

All the joy, which can be as bright as the morning sun, all the horror that chills the bones, the frustration that boils within, the loss that weighs heavy on the heart, the fear that lurks in the shadows, the deep love that binds souls, the resilience that refuses to break, and the resentment that simmers beneath the surface - it's all here, in this remarkable book, presented in plain English, served on a platter crafted with both great satisfaction and an abiding contempt.

A master wordsmith has not only shaped an allegory of femininity but has also unveiled the truth of it, in all its full complexity and hypocrisy.

Be warned, it is not an easy read. It will either speak to you so directly that you will experience a gamut of emotions - anger that blazes like a wildfire, fear that paralyzes, and despair that seems to swallow you whole...or, if you have not yet reached for the feminine within yourself, you may feel a sense of shame.

And if you feel neither, perhaps you live under Aspen's curse. May some dragon free you, and may she choose to be kind about it.

CONTENT WARNING: This is a tale of feminine horror. Rape, mutilation, subservience, loss of a child, torture, coercion of will, home invasion.

This book is absolute trash.

It's not just trash, but it's the trash of trash.

To be honest, this is the second worst book I have ever had the misfortune of reading.

It's truly unbelievable how bad it is, especially when considering how excellent the first two books in the series were.

Ursula K. Le Guin, you really let your readers down with this one.

I had such high expectations based on the previous installments, but this book failed to deliver on every front.

The story was convoluted and lacked a clear direction.

The characters were poorly developed and uninteresting.

The writing itself was subpar compared to Le Guin's usual standards.

I'm extremely disappointed and hope that future works by this author will return to the quality that made her so beloved in the first place.

It is a very mature book that talks about motherhood, sexism, the power of women, and their role in society. It strays far from the fantasy genre to which it seems to belong, focusing instead on the family life of Tenar. She has her daily domestic tasks and her budding love for her adopted daughter, Therru. Therru is a girl who was violated and burned, and Tenar picked her up from the ashes. There is no adventure, there is very little magic, and yet it is a precious book. Ursula's narrative does not spare in making her position and ideas clear, and I love her for that. More than ever, I am glad to have returned to these books.

“Brilliant exploration of trauma, gender and power” is a concise and captivating description. It implies a work that delves deeply into these complex and intertwined themes. Trauma can have a profound impact on individuals, shaping their lives and relationships. Gender, too, plays a significant role in how we experience the world and interact with others. And power, whether it is personal, social, or institutional, can either empower or oppress. This exploration likely examines how these elements intersect and influence one another. It may uncover hidden aspects of trauma that are specific to gender, or how power dynamics contribute to the perpetuation of certain forms of trauma. Through this brilliant exploration, we gain a deeper understanding of the human experience and the forces that shape it.

"Tehanu" presents a rather disjointed and incongruous picture when compared to the earlier three books in the Earthsea series. It seems as if the premise was an afterthought, focused on rectifying the absence of female characters by making a story about gender politics. This approach feels less organic than the better alternative of telling a story that is integral to the Earthsea world and lore while naturally including female characters, voices, and perspectives. Le Guin appears to struggle with reconciling and explaining her previous decision in "Wizard of Earthsea" to limit wizardry and admission to Roke to men. There is no clear internal logic within the world as to why this is the case, and she fails to establish a believable rationale in "Tehanu."

The gender politics and portrayal of gender inequality in "Tehanu" come across as contrived and artificial for several reasons. Firstly, the worldbuilding of Earthsea has always been somewhat lacking in details about social relationships, conventions, and day-to-day culture. This deficiency is not remedied in "Tehanu," leaving the deeply sexist or misogynistic nature of its societies without proper context or nuance. In Western societies, for example, sexism is often rooted in religious beliefs such as Christianity, which provides a vital backdrop for gender-discriminating practices. In Earthsea, however, there is no such historical or cultural foundation. Instead, many men seem to behave in a sexist manner simply for the sake of it, without any real internal motivation.
Secondly, the portrayal of the Masters of Roke as stuffy, close-minded old men who cannot even consider the possibility of women becoming mages or acquiring power undermines the wonderful magic system that Le Guin previously created. Wizardry and magecraft are based on an understanding of the power inherent in true names and Equilibrium, which in turn requires an open-minded, observant, and truth-seeking approach. This kind of wisdom seems fundamentally at odds with a blind belief in women's inferiority and inability to participate in magecraft. How can someone who is able to identify the true name of a woman, which corresponds to her true essence, fail to recognize that her essence is not inferior to that of a man? This contradiction makes the entire magic system seem superficial and undermines the thoughtful and subtle exploration of it in the previous books.
As for the characters, Ged is almost unrecognizable. He has lost much of his inner strength and seems to have nothing interesting about him anymore. All the wisdom and lessons he learned and demonstrated in the previous books are completely disregarded, without any convincing explanation. Tenar and Moss's commentary on his behavior, suggesting that men's egos are so weak that they are nothing without their power, is both reductive and inaccurate. Wizardry is not about power in the traditional sense of domination and possession, as this book seems to imply. The whole point of the first and third books was that wizardry is about understanding and being in harmony with the world. In contrast, the characters in "Tehanu" sometimes try to assert the idea that the need for power through magecraft is a masculine hubris, when there is nothing in the original magic system to suggest that it is inherently "masculine" in nature. Finally, the villain, Aspen, is completely flat. His motivation for cursing Tenar is simply that she is a woman, and the climax when he captures her and Ged is bizarre and feels out of place in the overall tone and direction of the book. Overall, "Tehanu" feels like a misstep in the Earthsea series, lacking the depth, coherence, and charm of the earlier books.

“You are beautiful,” Tenar said in a different tone.

“Listen to me, Therru. Come here. You have scars, ugly scars, because an ugly, evil thing was done to you. People see the scars. But they see you, too, and you aren't the scars. You aren't ugly. You aren't evil. You are Therru, and beautiful.

You are Therru who can work, and walk, and run, and dance, beautifully, in a red dress.”

This powerful passage by Ursula K. Le Guin in "Tehanu" shows Tenar's attempt to comfort and empower Therru.

The scars that Therru bears are not just physical but also emotional reminders of a traumatic event.

However, Tenar wants Therru to know that she is much more than those scars.

She is a unique individual with her own qualities and abilities.

By emphasizing that Therru can work, walk, run, and dance beautifully, Tenar is highlighting her potential and strength.

She is trying to instill in Therru a sense of self-worth and confidence, regardless of the past.

This message is not only important for Therru but also for all of us.

We should not let our past experiences or physical imperfections define us.

Instead, we should focus on our inner beauty and the things that make us special.

Like Therru, we can all learn to embrace our true selves and find the courage to move forward.