It might feel rather strange to label something as a "comfort read" when it encompasses so many dark themes.

However, I simply don't know any other way to describe a work that, despite having very little in the form of a traditional plot, managed to captivate me so completely.

There were often times when I just wanted to immerse myself in some of the passages. Le Guin's profound thoughts on trauma and the nature of power were so palpable, yet they remained firmly rooted in her fictional world without coming across as overly didactic.

"Cathartic" might perhaps be the most fitting term for it. This book had the remarkable ability to evoke such intense emotions within me without ever giving the impression that it was striving too hard. It achieved this simply by being utterly and unapologetically real.

It made me realize that sometimes, the most powerful stories are those that don't rely on elaborate plots or forced emotions, but rather on the authenticity of the ideas and experiences they present.

Le Guin's work is a prime example of this, and it will continue to resonate with readers for years to come.

I truly find myself at a loss when it comes to reviewing books of such outstanding quality.

It's one of those rare gems that defies easy description.

The story, the characters, the writing - everything about it is simply superb.

There are no words that can fully capture the essence and magic of this book.

All I can say is that you should just go and read it for yourself.

5 stars

Trust me, you won't be disappointed. It will take you on a journey that you won't soon forget.

It's a book that will make you laugh, cry, and think.

It's a literary masterpiece that deserves all the praise and recognition it can get.

So, don't hesitate. Pick up this book and let it transport you to another world.

You'll be glad you did.

It's entirely possible that those who have not endured significant actual trauma or severe discrimination may struggle to fathom just how accurately this book hits the mark. If you find yourself in this category, you might very well discover it truly fascinating to explore Trauma and Recovery by Judith Herman. This work offers a comprehensive overview of how and why trauma survivors can be incapacitated by fear in seemingly irrational manners. Additionally, The Macho Paradox by Jackson Katz is an unexpectedly excellent book that delves into male violence, not solely against women.

While reading the first three Earthsea books, I was unable to comprehend why some individuals labeled Le Guin as a "feminist writer." However, in Tehanu, this aspect finally becomes crystal clear - and it functions extremely well. I have a deep affection for the fact that each of the Earthsea books is markedly distinct, and this particular one undoubtedly steers fantasy novels in a novel direction. Confronting one's own weaknesses and the ignorance and fear of others in daily life demands far more courage and perseverance than any heroic adventure. Honestly, the feminism present in this book is no different from the themes found in all of her other works: regardless of the status or power one possesses, it is of utmost importance to have respect for others, maintain balance in one's actions, and not overly rely on force.

I'm uncertain about how to interpret the ending, which leaves some loose ends unresolved... but perhaps that is precisely her intention, isn't it? Things are never neatly wrapped up. Life is intricate; life persists.

Previously: The Farthest Shore

Tehanu is the fourth installment in the Earthsea Cycle. It was penned several years after the original trilogy, and it showcases a distinct departure from the other books, both in terms of style and substance. Regrettably, it also falls short compared to the earlier works. Le Guin seemed to have embraced a rather strident feminism between The Farthest Shore and Tehanu, and this is manifested in Tehanu in the least favorable way. Virtually every female character in the book is presented as worthy (even the dirty and crazy Aunty Moss), while all the men are, at best, weak and ineffective, and at worst, downright obnoxious. There are numerous scathing comments about men throughout the book that at times made me audibly groan. (And I'm not even male. I can only fathom how a male reader must perceive this book.)

It's a pity that Le Guin chose to mar her book in this manner, for the story itself, which revolves around the former High Priestess of Atuan who adopts a special girl and discovers that she is truly extraordinary, is engaging. It effectively weaves together loose ends from the previous books and sets the stage for a new series, which, unfortunately, I haven't yet read. I'm looking forward to delving deeper into Tehanu's story in The Other Wind, which I've heard is significantly better than Tehanu. But still, it's a subpar book. I give it three stars for the characters and the story, and two stars for the writing.

I think this installment of the Earthsea books was truly fascinating.

It wasn't because it carried on the magnificent tradition of having enormous fantasy implications and events. Instead, it defied our expectations and presented us with a very domestic perspective of Earthsea.

This doesn't mean that evil deeds don't occur. They do. However, the scope has been significantly narrowed. Tenar from the second book and Ged meet again after almost a lifetime. She is now a middle-aged woman, and Ged has changed considerably after the events of the third book, having lost his magic.

Reader expectations can pose a huge complication for any story that aims to be told. If I hadn't approached this with an open mind, I might have been rather disappointed. As it stands, I evaluated this book in my mind against a wide range of fantasy novels rather than the highest expectations set by LeGuin's other novels, and I didn't find it lacking. In fact, I really enjoyed the deeper exploration of what it means to be a woman in Earthsea, with its different types of magic, complications, and down-to-earth feel. If Ged is like the wind, then the female side represents the earth. This isn't a surprise, I'm sure, but it was executed very well.

Regarding the plot, it didn't seem slow to me. I've read far worse. :) The setup at the end was also quite interesting.

My final assessment? It may not be on the same level as the other three books, but it does explore the world of Earthsea in a rather captivating way that involves two of my favorite characters from the previous books. Sparrowhawk isn't powerful and righteous or simply trying to correct his mistakes. He's just an ordinary man. And that's perfectly fine. :)

Jednostavno rečeno, ovo je serijal koji ne treba propustiti.

This series truly stands out and offers a captivating viewing experience.

The storylines are engaging, filled with twists and turns that keep you on the edge of your seat.

The characters are well-developed, each with their own unique personalities and motives.

The production values are top-notch, with beautiful cinematography and excellent special effects.

Whether you're a fan of drama, action, or mystery, this series has something for everyone.

It has the ability to draw you in and make you feel invested in the lives of the characters.

So, don't miss out on this amazing series.

Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

A strong entry in the Earthsea cycle, this book offers several notable pros.

First and foremost, it brings back my favorite character in the series, which is truly a delight. Additionally, there are more characters than in the previous books, adding greater depth and complexity to the story. The vibes throughout the whole book are great, creating an immersive and engaging atmosphere. Moreover, the exciting conclusion ties things together neatly, providing a sense of satisfaction to the reader.

However, it's not without its cons. The plot is a little weaker, but fortunately, it doesn't rely too heavily on it. There is also less overall magic than in the previous books, which might disappoint some fans. Additionally, the pacing is a little slower than in past entries, which could potentially make the reading experience feel a bit more drawn out.

Despite these drawbacks, this book still manages to be a worthwhile addition to the Earthsea cycle.

Tehanu... That is, the "other". Everyone who always stands out in society, is different, and does not dwell on what is generally valid is a bit of Tehanu.

I really like this novel because it very beautifully describes the unique power of love to heal and also the value of seeing rather than just looking.

Tehanu represents those who are marginalized or considered different in a society. Through her story, we are able to understand the importance of acceptance and the power of love to transform.

The novel also makes us think about how we perceive others and whether we truly see them for who they are or just look at the surface. It reminds us that there is much more to a person than meets the eye and that we should take the time to get to know them and understand their experiences.

In conclusion, Tehanu is a powerful and moving novel that has a lot to teach us about love, acceptance, and the importance of seeing others.

I finally completed my reading of the Earthsea cycle.

The first book is all about the wizard, Ged, coming into his power and adulthood. It's a captivating tale of his growth and discovery.

The second book focuses on Tenar, a child chosen to preside over an ancient temple, believed to be the reincarnation of the previous priestess. Her story is one of duty and self-discovery.

In the third book, Ged sets out with an aristocratic youth to save the world, embarking on a heroic adventure.

And in this final installment, Tenar cares for an abused girl, whom she names Therru (meaning "fire" in her own language). Possibly, this book was my favourite. Maybe it's because, in my opinion, it's the most feminist. It challenges patriarchal assumptions and control, showing the strength and agency of a woman.

As a foreigner in a conservative rural society, Tenar has gained acceptance through a degree of conformity, meeting the prevailing expectations of women. So often novels are about navigating and resisting societal pressure/oppression, but it's a little unusual to have a story about a middle-aged woman caring for a child and various other folks take centre-stage in a YA-ish fantasy. What's awesome is that Le Guin, I think, succeeds in putting that story on the same level of importance as the previous installments. Tenar's care for Therru seems no less vital than any of Ged's acts in the earlier books, while at the same time showing how gender structures her struggle. Misogyny is not the preserve of bigots; it is built into language and ways of knowing.

As in the other books in the cycle, particularly the second, where trust is so touching, what I enjoyed most here was connecting with the characters and feeling for them in their relationships. But I think in those terms, this is the richest book. In Tenar's world, interconnection is in the texture of everyday life, not a mystery to be uncovered. It's a beautiful and thought-provoking exploration of human nature and society.

She must conduct a more meticulous search around the house, the springhouse, and the milking shed. This was her fault. By imagining turning Therru into a weaver, shutting her away in the dark to work and be respectable, she had caused this to occur. When Ogion had said, "Teach her, teach her all, Tenar!" When she knew that a wrong that couldn't be mended must be overcome. When she knew that the child had been entrusted to her and she had failed in her responsibility, failed her trust, lost her, lost the one great gift.

She entered the house, having scoured every corner of the other buildings, and looked again in the alcove and around the other bed. Her mouth was as dry as sand, so she poured herself some water.

Behind the door, the three sticks of wood, Ogion's staff and the walking sticks, shifted in the shadows, and one of them said, "Here."

The child was crouched in that dark corner,蜷缩成一团，看起来比一只小狗大不了多少，头低到肩膀上，胳膊和腿紧紧地缩着，一只眼睛闭着。

"小鸟，小麻雀，小火苗，怎么了？发生了什么事？他们现在对你做了什么？" Tenar抱着那小小的身体，像石头一样僵硬，在怀里摇晃着。"你怎么能这样吓我？你怎么能躲着我？哦，我太生气了！"

她哭了，眼泪落在孩子的脸上。

"哦，Therru，Therru，Therru，别躲着我！"

一阵颤抖传遍了那纠结的四肢，慢慢地它们松开了。Therru动了动，突然紧紧地抱住了Tenar，把脸埋在Tenar的胸口和肩膀之间，抱得更紧了，直到她拼命地抓住。她没有哭。她从来没有哭过；也许她的眼泪已经被烧干了；她没有眼泪。但她发出了一声长长的、呻吟着的、抽泣的声音。

Tenar抱着她，摇晃着她，摇晃着她。非常非常缓慢地，那绝望的紧握放松了。头靠在Tenar的胸口上。

"告诉我，"女人低声说，孩子用她微弱、沙哑的声音回答，"他来了这里。"

Tenar的第一个念头是Ged，她的思维仍然因恐惧而敏捷，抓住了这个，明白了对她来说"他"是谁，并在经过时给了它一个扭曲的笑容，但继续思考，寻找答案。"谁来了这里？"

没有回答，只有一种内心的颤抖。

"一个男人，"Tenar平静地说，"一个戴着皮帽的男人。"

Therru点了一下头。

"我们在路上看到他了，他来这里了。"

没有回应。

"那四个人 - 我生气的那几个，你还记得吗？他是其中之一。"

但她想起了Therru是如何低着头，遮住烧伤的一侧，不抬头，就像她在陌生人中间总是做的那样。

"你认识他吗，Therru？"

"是的。"

"从 - 从你住在河边营地的时候？"

点了一下头。

Tenar的手臂紧紧地搂着她。

"他来这里了？"她说，她所感受到的所有恐惧在她说话时都变成了愤怒，一种愤怒像一根火棒一样在她的身体里燃烧。她发出了一种笑声 - "哈！" - 她在那一刻想起了Kalessin，Kalessin是如何笑的。

但对于一个人类和一个女人来说，事情并不是那么简单。火必须被控制。而且孩子必须得到安慰。

"他看到你了吗？"

"我躲起来了。"

过了一会儿，Tenar抚摸着Therru的头发说，"他永远不会碰你，Therru。理解我，相信我：他再也不会碰你了。除非我和你在一起，否则他再也不会见到你，然后他必须对付我。你明白吗，我的亲爱的，我的宝贝，我的美丽的？你不必害怕他。你一定不要害怕他。他想让你害怕他。他以恐惧为食。我们会饿死他，Therru。我们会饿死他，直到他吃掉自己。直到他啃着自己的手骨头噎住......啊，啊，啊，现在别听我说，我只是生气，只是生气......我红了吗？我现在像一个Gontish女人一样红吗？像一条龙一样，我红了吗？"她试图开玩笑；Therru抬起头，从她自己皱巴巴的、颤抖的、被火烧过的脸上望着她的脸，说，"是的。你是一条红色的龙。"

4 1/2 stars

I'm truly glad that I decided to read this book once more. As an adult, my understanding of it has deepened significantly compared to when I was a teenager.

"Tehanu" serves as the sequel to "The Tombs of Atuan," and it initially came as a bit of a surprise when I first read it. "Tombs" concluded with the promise of a typical fantasy ending. The heroine and the wizard entered the city triumphantly, carrying the fabled artifact. Honors were bestowed upon them, and the heroine then embarked on a journey of self-discovery, learning magic and traveling the world, having numerous adventures. And so on.

"Tehanu" picks up approximately twenty-five years later. The heroine, Tenar, is now a middle-aged widow living a quiet life on a farm. The artifact she brought to the land set in motion a series of events that ultimately led to the crowning of the prophesized king, who shows great promise in bringing peace and stability to the land. However, Tenar herself was not directly involved in those events. She had started studying magic but felt that she did not belong in the male-dominated world of wizardry. Instead, she chose to marry a prosperous farmer and raise a family like a normal woman.

As a teenager, this was a source of disappointment for me. Why would anyone want to be ordinary when they could be out conversing with dragons and having exciting adventures? I still liked the book (Le Guin is an outstanding writer), but it wasn't until now that I truly grasped the underlying tension of the novel.

Tenar is trapped by the gender definitions imposed by her society. She cannot be a wizard because it requires thinking in a way that is considered masculine. She also cannot return to the role she was raised in, that of a symbol of darkness created by men. And in "Tehanu," she realizes that she cannot be a normal housewife either, as she dreams of dragons and asks too many questions. This passage helps to explain Tenar's struggle:

(This opens with Ged explaining the thinking of wizards) The Mages of Roke are men — their power is the power of men, their knowledge is the knowledge of men. Both manhood and magery are built on one rock: power belongs to men. If women had power, what would men be but women who can't bear children? And what would women be but men who can?

"Hah!" went Tenar; and presently, with some cunning, she said, "Haven't there been queens? Weren't they women of power?"

"A queen's only a she-king," said Ged.

She snorted.

"I mean, men give her power. They let her use their power. But it isn't hers, is it? It isn't because she's a woman that she's powerful, but despite it."

She nodded. She stretched, sitting back from the spinning wheel. "What is a woman's power, then?" she asked.

"I don't think we know."

"When has a woman power because she's a woman? With her children, I suppose. For a while..."

"In her house maybe."

She looked around the kitchen. "But the doors are shut," she said, "the doors are locked."

"Because you're valuable."

"Oh, yes. We're precious. So long as we're powerless...I remember when I first learned that! Kossil threatened me — me, the One Priestess of the Tombs. And I realized that I was helpless. I had the honor; but she had the power, from the God-king, the man. Oh, it made me angry! And frightened me...Lark and I talked about this once. She said, "Why are men afraid of women?"

"If your strength is only the other's weakness, you live in fear," Ged said.

"Yes; but women seem to fear their own strength, to be afraid of themselves."

"Are they ever taught to trust themselves?" Ged asked, and as he spoke Therru came in on her work again. His eyes and Tenar's met.

"No," she said. "Trust is not what we're taught."

The plot of "Tehanu" revolves around these conflicts of power. As a teenager, I believed in the story of a young girl finding magic and overcoming all odds. However, "Tehanu" reveals another side to this, where the young girl can never truly overcome the odds because they are deeply ingrained in the social fabric, influencing her in ways she is not aware of until she is older. Tenar, as a woman, has to learn to trust herself, and it is a much more complex process than simply "believing in yourself."

"Tehanu" is a complex and thought-provoking book that delves into themes of gender, power, creation, and of course, dragons. It challenges our assumptions and makes us question the limitations placed on individuals by society.

He thought he had learned pain, but he would learn it again and again, all his life, and forget none of it.

Oh. Oh, my goodness. Reading this from the crone's seat? This was a book transformed. When first I read it, I was following Ged, yearning for wizardly doings, and I was a little... bemused at the change in focus. And this time. Well, I've never read a more sensible, grounded, interesting book. It is a book about learning how to be through time. It is a book concerned with the small healings, the tender mercies, the bowls of broth. It is like a quiet masterpiece simmering gently over a roaring fire.

Recommended for old women everywhere. This book has a profound charm that can touch the hearts of those who have experienced the passage of time. It makes us realize that in the journey of life, we constantly learn and grow, and even the smallest things can bring us great comfort and wisdom. It is not just a story, but a reflection on life itself.

Whether you are an old woman or someone who is simply seeking a deeper understanding of life, this book is well worth reading. It will take you on a journey of self-discovery and leave you with a sense of peace and contentment. So, pick up this book, sit by the fire, and let yourself be沉浸 in its wonderful world.