Book Review: A Wizard of Earthsea
A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin is the first novel in the much-beloved and highly influential Earthsea Cycle.
Well, where to begin with this one… To say that I feel less-than-qualified to review this book is an understatement. But, as evidenced by this post’s existence, I’m going to do it anyway. As I mentioned one of my first blog posts, I have only just gotten back into reading fiction in the last year or so when I took up writing, and I wanted to check out these books that everyone seems to enjoy, but that - for whatever reason - I totally slept on.
And that brings us nicely to A Wizard of Earthsea.
I adore Studio Ghibli. I have their entire film collection on my shelf, which I watch through periodically, and it has been an absolute joy to rediscover them with my children. Also on my shelf is the amazing Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind manga. You could say I’m a bit of a fan. So you know where I’m coming from when I say that, in my opinion, Tales from Earthsea is the weakest Ghibli movie by far. Unfortunately it was also my very first introduction to the world of Earthsea, and I was not impressed. I wasn’t completely ignorant though; I knew that it was an adaptation of a much-loved series of children’s fantasy novels. I had heard of Le Guin in passing, and I learned of the disservice this film had done to her work. Even with all of that, though, the world of Earthsea intrigued me, and I made a point to make Wizard one of the first stops in my revived SFF journey. After having read it for myself, I now completely understand what the uproar was about. I don’t want to make this blog post into a comparison to that adaptation, though, so I’m going to stick with talking about the book only from here on out.
Summary
A Wizard of Earthsea tells the origin story of the Archmage Sparrowhawk, the greatest of wizards, and his earliest adventure around the world of Earthsea; a world of islands and archipelagos, of dragons and shadows, deep ancient magic and small bronze-age settlements. As a young boy on the island of Gont, it is discovered that Sparrowhawk has an affinity for magic, and after he defends his village from an attack he sails off to attend a school for wizards where his reckless arrogance unleashes an evil shadow monster into the world. Only he can stop it, and the quest takes him to the furthest corners of Earthsea.
Review
I’ll start by saying this book was not what I expected at all, stylistically. It came as a surprise to me to find that this book is written in the style of something like a Biblical epic. The narrator is like a chronicler, telling a story of events long ago in epic style. But this does not detract from the book in the slightest; quite the contrary, in fact. It feels deliberately chosen to fit the story, and it works exceptionally well. It elevates the work in a way that a closer viewpoint would not. Consequently, we don’t feel as close to Ged (Sparrowhawk’s real name), but we’re not supposed to. This is a story long-lost to the mists of time; it is grandiose and legendary, and I got the feeling throughout that it could have been filled with embellishments from the narrator, that no-one truly knows if this story is true or not. And yet, despite the distance that we feel from the main character, we still get deep insight into his thoughts and mental state throughout.
As a character, Ged is hot-headed, arrogant, prideful. He craves the admiration of others, doesn’t suffer fools, and as a result, makes a grave mistake that puts the world in jeopardy and breaks him completely. It’s hard to see at first how this upstart could possibly become the greatest Archmage that ever lived. But it is a pleasure to watch Ged overcome these challenges and character flaws, learning humility and wisdom in the process.
Wizard is by no means a long book; it is a book meant for children of course. But its themes of hubris and our individual capacity for good or evil, are weighty and expertly realised. There’s wonder and imagination aplenty, stemming from the mysterious nature of the magic system that is grounded in the world, using words of power and True Names from ancient languages. Despite this rich, mystical world, the real driving-force behind the story is Ged’s internal conflict.
There are very few criticisms I can throw at this book, but one very minor point is that I found punctuation a little bit lacking in places, which made comprehending the meaning of some sentences tricky. There were also a few very long run-on sentences (one of which stretched the length of a page!) but these, too, didn’t feel accidental. Despite those very minor issues, I appreciated how unapologetically deliberate it was.
I’ve touched on worldbuilding and the magic system a little above, but I want to go a bit deeper. Earthsea is a rather realistic world, on reflection, which was a pleasant surprise. The vast majority of its people are dark-skinned, including our hero and all major characters, with the light-skinned people as the minority but framed in the role of militaristic conquerors. It’s not my place to comment on how this relates to people of colour in our world today (I’m not eloquent enough for that, for a start, and others have done a much better job of it) but it was refreshing to see that representation taken here. The magic system in Earthsea is grounded and believable and speaks of controlling objects and aspects of the world through the knowledge of the thing’s True Name. This goes for people, too. The cultural impact of this is that people only give their real names to those whom they trust implicitly, and it’s a sign of great friendship and vulnerability. Ged is given his True Name at his coming-of-age, and is charged with protecting it, instead being known by the pseudonym, Sparrowhawk. As a result, spells and magic are less about incantation, and more about research and an in-depth knowledge about the world. It’s a hard magic system that establishes the limitations on its use elegantly, but still leaves room for mystery and a sense of awe. It calls to mind those cultures that revere the natural world, with the intertwining of the spiritual and physical.
Overall, A Wizard of Earthsea is a true masterwork, and comes highly recommended by me (for what that’s worth) for both adults and older children. I am very much looking forward to reading through the rest of the series; I’ve picked up Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness, as well, and I expect it will be just as thought-provoking and beautifully written as Earthsea.
That’s all from me for now.
