I have spent my childhood reading and re-reading the original Earthsea trilogy.

However, when I came across Tehanu (originally subtitled "The Last Book of Earthsea"), I was truly astonished.

It was so strikingly different from the previous ones in terms of form, style, and content that it was extremely difficult for me to embrace it at first.

This book is openly feminist, delving into dark and painful themes such as female subjugation, rape, powerlessness, and the loss of autonomy.

It is not the typical heroic fantasy that I was accustomed to.

Rather, it is a trenchant feminist analysis of the preceding three (male-centric) books.

Moreover, it is a beautiful novel that explores a woman's journey in a world dominated by men.

Her search for her own self and her own power is filled with both regret and triumph, making it a deeply moving and thought-provoking read.

As I delved deeper into the story, I began to appreciate the unique perspective and the powerful message that Tehanu had to offer.

It taught me to look beyond the traditional heroic narratives and to recognize the struggles and strengths of women in a different light.

Now, I see Tehanu as an essential part of the Earthsea series, adding a new layer of depth and complexity to the overall story.

It has truly broadened my understanding of the power of literature to explore and challenge our perceptions of gender, power, and identity.

I was deeply in love with the original trilogy and firmly believed it to be a complete work. Little did I know that there was still so much more to be explored and said about the enchanting world of Earthsea. Oh, but how extremely glad I am that there was!

"Tehanu" follows the life of Tenar ten years after Ged left her on Gont. She is now a widow with grown children and has managed to leave her past as Ahra-the-Eaten-One far behind. However, her life takes yet another turn when she decides to take in a severely abused child as a foster daughter.

Ursula LeGuin is truly a gifted writer. She has the remarkable ability to tell an interesting and even gripping story that, when taken at face value, seems like just a simple tale. But on a deeper level, she is acutely observing and commenting on various sociological and cultural norms. She makes us ponder questions such as: Why do men hurt women and children? Why are they permitted to do so? If a good person commits bad deeds, does that instantly make them a bad person? Who can truly be considered a parent, the one who gives birth to you or the one who loves and cares for you unconditionally? And if your entire life has been based on wielding power and suddenly you can no longer do so, what then becomes of you and what options are left for you?

I have an unwavering love for all the Earthsea books. If I were ever faced with the difficult task of choosing just a handful of books to take with me to a desert island, this series would most definitely make the cut without a doubt. Every single time I read these books, I discover something new and gain valuable insights about myself.

Büyüksün, ablaa..

This simple phrase holds a world of meaning and affection. It is a way of expressing respect and endearment towards an older sister.

When we say "Büyüksün, ablaa", we are not only acknowledging her seniority but also her wisdom and experience. She is someone we look up to, someone who has always been there for us.

This phrase can be used in many different situations. It could be said when we are seeking advice from our older sister, or when we just want to show her how much we love and appreciate her.

In conclusion, "Büyüksün, ablaa" is a beautiful and powerful phrase that encapsulates the special bond between siblings. It is a reminder of the love and respect that we should always have for our family members.

The Yerdeniz series was the first fantastic series I read. At that time, I really liked it, but it was left unfinished. Although I wanted to continue from where I left off, after this book, I will still take a break. I didn't like this book. It didn't appeal to me. I hope to read Ursula's other books and be able to like them.

I remember when I first started reading the Yerdeniz series, I was immediately attracted by its unique fantasy setting. The vivid descriptions and imaginative plots made me completely immersed in that wonderful world. However, as the story progressed, for some reason, I gradually lost interest. Maybe it was because the plot became a bit dull or the characters didn't develop as I expected.

Nevertheless, I still have high expectations for Ursula's other works. I believe that she is a talented writer, and there must be other excellent books waiting for me to discover. I look forward to the day when I can find a book of hers that really touches my heart and makes me fall in love with reading all over again.

¡Increíble!

Me encanta la manera de escribir de Ursula. Su prosa es tan vívida y envolvente que me transporta a mundos completamente diferentes. Cada palabra que escribe parece tener un propósito especial, y la forma en que combina ideas y emociones es simplemente asombrosa.

Con cada libro que leo de ella, me estoy convirtiendo en una de sus autoras favoritas. Su capacidad para crear personajes complejos y auténticos, así como historias que me hacen reflexionar y sentir, es algo que realmente admiro. No puedo esperar a leer más de sus obras y seguir explorando los mundos que ella crea.

Ursula es definitivamente una autora que merece ser reconocida y admirada, y estoy segura de que su legado literario perdurará por mucho tiempo.

What happens to the protagonist after the end of the novel? What decisions do they make in the (unwritten) next 100 pages? This book provides answers for three characters from the original Earthsea trilogy.

Told from the perspective of Tenar (Tombs of Atuan) twenty-five years later, we discover what she did after bringing the ring of Erreth-Akbe to Havnor. Later, Ged arrives after his travels to The Farthest Shore. Finally, Lebennen makes an appearance and we learn about his activities in his new job. This book addresses the questions we all have at the conclusion of a truly excellent book: What Next?

In addition to a captivating story, UKLG incorporates the kinds of philosophical discussions that I had with friends on numerous evenings. At times, it can be challenging to read, but it is well worth exploring themes such as aging, gender roles, raising children, and more.

It is a worthy addition to the Earthsea universe.

Overall, this book offers a unique and engaging continuation of the Earthsea story, delving into the lives and decisions of beloved characters and exploring thought-provoking themes. It is a must-read for fans of the original trilogy and anyone interested in a deeper exploration of the fantasy genre.

I don't have enough stars.

This simple statement holds a certain truth for many of us. Stars can symbolize various things, such as achievements, recognition, or even a sense of worth. When we say we don't have enough stars, it might mean that we feel we haven't accomplished as much as we'd like, or that we haven't received the level of recognition we deserve.

It could also imply that we are constantly striving for more, always seeking to reach a higher level of success or to obtain those elusive stars. However, it's important to remember that stars are not the only measure of our value or worth. There are many other aspects of our lives that are equally important, such as our relationships, our health, and our personal growth.

Instead of focusing solely on obtaining more stars, we should also take the time to appreciate the things we already have and to work on becoming the best version of ourselves. After all, true fulfillment and happiness come from within, not from the number of stars we accumulate.

Tehanu is yet another distinct story that brings us back to the protagonist of The Tombs of Atuan. In my view, it is of the same high quality.

This book is very much a slice of life. The protagonist of ToA has lived her life, and this story takes place approximately 25 years later. One day, she discovers a child who has endured a terrible crime. The child, named Therru, has had half of her face and a significant portion of her body burned after being pushed into the fire. Tenar adopts Therru, and the book mainly focuses on their relationship and the process of raising this child.

It also delves into grief as some familiar characters are growing very old.

For those who have read The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy, this book gives off a strong Fool's Assassin vibe.

I believe that those who enjoy the found family trope and a slower-paced slice of life book will truly appreciate this one.

However, one thing that has been bothering me in these recent books is how having a king is seemingly solving so many problems. Historically, it seems much more likely that kings would cause problems. But nevertheless.

I rate this book 8.2/10, the same score as The Tombs of Atuan. However, I think I have a slight preference for The Tombs of Atuan. Overall, I tend to like the Tenar-focused stories more than the Ged stories.

100 Stars.

If more children, especially boys, were to read the Earthsea saga, culminating with "Tehanu," perhaps the world wouldn't be burdened with this该死的 "meninist" problem.

Loss, shame, and the weight of love are all delved into here, with remarkable patience and unwavering honesty.

“She thought about how it was to have been a woman in the prime of life, with children and a man, and then to lose all that, becoming old and a widow, powerless. But even so she did not feel she understood his shame, his agony of humiliation. Perhaps only a man could feel so. A woman got used to shame.”

Re-reading this series was an exquisitely beautiful and deeply emotional experience. I'm both sad that it has come to an end and yet profoundly grateful for having had the opportunity to immerse myself in it once again.

Only in silence the word,

Only in dark the light,

Only in dying life:

Bright the hawk's flight

On the empty sky.

—The Creation of Éa

"Mucho llorar bonito pero raro." This phrase seems to convey an interesting and somewhat paradoxical idea. Crying a lot can be seen as beautiful in a certain way, perhaps because it shows deep emotions and vulnerability. However, it is also described as rare, which might imply that it is not a common occurrence or that it is something that stands out.

We often associate crying with sadness or pain, but it can also be a release of other emotions such as joy or relief. When someone cries beautifully, it could be because they do so in a way that is both sincere and graceful. Their tears might flow freely, yet there is an elegance to their expression.

The rarity of much crying being beautiful could be due to the fact that in our society, we are often taught to suppress our emotions and not show too much vulnerability. We are expected to be strong and composed, and crying is sometimes seen as a sign of weakness. Therefore, when someone cries beautifully and openly, it catches our attention and seems almost extraordinary.

In conclusion, "mucho llorar bonito pero raro" presents a thought-provoking concept that challenges our traditional views on crying and emotions. It makes us consider the beauty that can be found in expressing our feelings freely, even if it is a rare sight.

Some days, we find pure happiness just by staying around the house, or in the yard, simply relishing the state of being. The joys of being true to ourselves, the pleasure of living our own lives. This was precisely the case for most of my experience while reading Tehanu. It was filled with simple joys and the delight of existence.

Yes, there was the typical story, drama, and excitement, but for some reason, they didn't seem overly crucial. Merely existing within the pages of the book was sufficient. It was a relaxed and casual joy, soothing in its simplicity. A different kind of enjoyment, one that was less pressured. Perhaps it's just me, but I discovered that such simple pleasures were sustaining, comforting, and relaxing.

My only gripe is with the foolish publishers who are insistent on not indicating the book's position in the overall series. If I had known it was book 4, I might have made the effort to obtain books 1 to 3 and read the series in sequence. Now, however, I'm unlikely to do that or read the rest of the series, as I have no desire to read something I already know about or how it ends, nor do I wish to read an incomplete series. Why publishers do this remains an astonishing mystery.

If you've ever been deeply devoted to a series, then you may very well know precisely what occurs when you reach that last page or the final ten minutes of the concluding show: shouts, groans, and pure agony!

I know exactly how fans felt back in 1972 when Ursula Le Guin's Earthsea trilogy came to an end, because I myself experienced it as a girl in 1984. When I first finished this trilogy, there was no TEHANU. It simply ended.

However, twenty years after she completed her famous Earthsea trilogy, Ms. Le Guin astonished her readers by presenting them with TEHANU, transforming her trilogy into a tetralogy forevermore. Interestingly enough, I was 20 years old at that time.

When I decided to reread this series with my youngest daughter this year, I was most curious about how we would respond to this particular installment.

TEHANU is quite distinct, both thematically and stylistically, from the original three stories. It is far less adventurous and far more philosophical, filled with mature themes.

Full disclosure: one of the main themes of the book is rape. No actual acts of rape occur in the novel, but the story commences with the aftermath of a brutal rape on a child. It didn't take long before I ceased reading this aloud to my 13-year-old. She was too young for this story, and I completed it on my own.

But, before I deter a potential reader of this story, I want to clarify that this isn't solely a story about rape. It is, in fact, an exploration of POWER, and it is truly fascinating.

Who knows where a woman begins and ends?

Ms. Le Guin penned this novel when she was 60 years old (and she went on to live almost 30 more years), and I can assure you, from my vantage point in the timeline of a woman's life, she got it precisely right.

Most women of a certain age can attest that our lives are nothing if not ironic. As girls, teens, and young women, most of us are evading the unwanted advances of the opposite sex, and the statistics, at least here in the states, prove, to some extent, what most of us know: approximately one in four girls will be raped or molested by the age of 20. (Based on my own experience of having intimate conversations with grown women over the past three decades, I'd personally contend that it's probably more like one in two).

So, we spend the first half of our lives striving to keep ourselves safe from sexual harassment and assault, and then we spend the second half being informed that we are invisible.

What an unfortunate compromise.

I can't tell you how many women my age or older have shared with me that they'll choose invisibility over the alternative, any day. Yes, over the OTHER, but you're still alive, and you're smarter, you're more savvy, you're far more creative than ever before. Why should you be invisible?

Women seem to fear their own strength, to be afraid of themselves... Trust is not what we're taught.

How is it that, here in the states, we have two elderly male candidates running for president, men who can barely stand on their own two feet, battling each other with their walkers, and we're all going along with it, as if it's normal, yet every woman over the age of 45 is being told she's useless?

If women had power, what would men be but women who can't bear children?

This novel is a brilliant work of art, and I wish every woman (and man) would read it. The only snag is... I firmly believe that the trilogy that precedes it is essential for understanding this fourth story. Meaning: you really can't commence here.

I am extremely grateful that Ms. Le Guin didn't allow the men around her to define her, tell her she was inconsequential, or tell her that she was useless. I am also extremely grateful that she never accepted her designated status of invisible.

Ever perused Ursula Le Guin's bibliography? She was an incredibly prolific writer who defied all the rules, wrote in every genre, and produced the lion's share of her work after the age of 45!