Tag Archives: fantasy

Thoughts on “The Magician’s Land” by Lev Grossman

This is the final book of Grossman’s trilogy, and he manages to maintain the power and intensity of the previous books. While part of me wishes the saga would continue, this really is the right place to stop.

I took a couple pages of notes while reading, so I could ramble on about this, but since brevity is the soul of wit, I’ll keep this post short and focused. I’ll focus on how the book corresponds to the biblical books of Genesis and Revelation.

So there are two big themes in this book: the creation of a world, and the destruction of a world. These are also the themes that are the focuses of Genesis and Revelation, respectively. In addition, Grossman also weaves in the symbolism of the death and rebirth of a god, which connects the two central themes and hearkens to Frazer’s work, The Golden Bough.

Quentin comes into possession of an ancient spell, and it takes him a while to decipher it. But once he does, he realizes it is a spell to create a small world, essentially speaking a world into being. This is the magick of God in Genesis, but on a smaller scale. Yet even though this is on a smaller scale, Quentin is taking a step toward becoming godlike through his ability to create.

This was a spell that created something. It was a spell for making a land.

He actually laughed out loud when he thought of it. It was too funny—too insane. But now that he saw it he couldn’t un-see it. He could follow it like a story that wound crookedly through the various sections and paragraphs and subclauses of the spell like a thread of DNA. This thing was intended to make a little world.

(p. 249)

Contrasting Quentin’s creation of a new world, we see the apocalyptic end to another world, with imagery and direct references to Revelation.

The chaos itself was momentarily, unfairly beautiful. The thrashing sun, the spinning, looping moon. Fillory half light and half shadow, dotted with flashes of fire, lava and flame and magical strikes from magical beings. Ignorant armies clashing by night.

It’s like Revelation, she thought. It’s Revelation, and I’m the Scarlet Woman.

(p. 339)

But the deeper mysticism here is that dying worlds can be reborn, but this cosmic rebirth requires the ultimate sacrifice: the death of a god. This is the mythology that Frazer explores in his masterwork, and Grossman makes reference to this mythology as the world of Fillory is about to die.

It was the oldest story there was, the deepest of all the deeper magicks. Fillory didn’t have to die, it could be renewed and live again, but there was a price, and the price was holy blood. It was the same in all mythologies: for a dying land to be reborn, its god must die for it. There was power in that divine paradox, the death of an immortal, enough power to restart the stopped heart of a world.

(pp. 377 – 378)

And with the death of the old god, the world is renewed, ushering in the new age.

“… Things are different now. It’s a new age.”

(p. 394)

These books have definitely earned their place in the upper echelon of the fantasy genre. I suspect that I may read them again someday, hence they now have a prominent spot on my bookshelf. In the meantime, I’ll indulge myself by watching the TV adaptation of the trilogy.

Thanks for stopping by, and keep reading cool stuff!

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Thoughts on “The Magician King” by Lev Grossman

As I am drafting this post on Grossman’s second installment in the trilogy, I am already well into the third and final book. These books are like crack for nerds who are into reading. I suspect that my thoughts on the third book will follow hot on the heels of this post.

This book is another version of the archetypal hero’s journey, but not at all hackneyed. It is full of current references to popular culture and it reads very well. Reading a page in this book is like eating one Dorito chip. You read it, and the next thing you know, a quarter of the book is gone.

“You wish to be a hero, but you do not know what a hero is. You think a hero is one who wins. But a hero must be prepared to lose, Quentin. Are you? Are you prepared to lose everything?”

(p. 179)

This quote really had a visceral effect on me. When I think back on the literature I’ve read regarding the hero myths, every hero loses something, and most of them lose a part of themselves. You cannot head out on a quest and expect to return the same person you were at the onset. Every hero must sacrifice in order to attain their goal. And even those who choose not to make the sacrifice after stepping on the path, they have still lost something, and likely that something is a more painful loss that that sacrifice which was asked for.

The hero’s quest is symbolic for a deep, often spiritual, transformation. And all transformations require the sloughing of the outer shell of the self to reveal the deeper aspects of the individual.

At one point in the book, Quentin discusses his quest with Ember, a god of the realm of Fillory. While it is a common trope in the hero myth for the hero to seek guidance from a divine being, what is interesting about this interaction is that the god Ember provides insight into the role of an individual on a quest, and how the quest ultimately transforms that person.

“I do not think you understand, my child. There are things a man must do, that a god may not. He who completes a quest does not merely find something. He becomes something.”

Quentin stopped, blowing, hands on hips. The horizon to the east was a solid band of orange now. The stars were going out.

“What’s that? What does he become?”

“A hero, Quentin.”

(p. 251)

Reading into what is implied here, the god is letting Quentin know that by pursuing the quest, something which he must do, that he will suffer a great loss. It is inevitable. No transformation can be complete unless the individual lets go of something important, whether by choice or by circumstance.

I’m intentionally keeping this post short, so as not to include any spoilers. I definitely recommend this book, and the entire trilogy.

Click here to read my review of the first book in the series: The Magicians.

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Stranger Things: Issues 1 – 4

Like most nerds, I love the Netflix series “Stranger Things.” So it should come as no surprise that I was excited when Dark Horse Comics released a four-issue arc based on the show. I decided, rather than reading them as they were released, I would wait until I had them all, then read them in a single sitting, which I did. So this post covers all four installments.

The arc basically explored in a little more depth what happened to Will Byers when he was trapped in the upside down, which for those who have not seen the show is a parallel dimension populated by some not-so-friendly creatures. The tale definitely assumes that the reader is familiar with the Netflix series, so if you have not watched it, don’t bother with this. You’ll be totally confused.

Anyway, I figured I would share a choice quote from each of the issues.

Issue 1

The first truth he learned about adventuring still stands. The party that fights together survives together. Splitting the party can have disastrous consequences. After all, on their own, an adventurer is the easiest of prey.

I see this as a quote in support of collaboration. Will is regularly engaged in role-playing games with his friends, and it creates a bond between them. They all know that they are stronger together. And as Will finds himself isolated, the importance of friendship and cooperation becomes all the more evident.

Issue 2

Having the means to speak isn’t the same as having the right words.

How true. I have often encountered people who, to quote Shakespeare, speak an infinite amount of nothing. Finding the right words to convey things is both a skill and an art. The difference that one wrong or one right word can make in a situation can be tremendous. As such, we should all weigh our words carefully.

Issue 3

What was buried in the graves of this unholy place, he didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. But cemeteries do more than just house the dead. They offer solace to the living.

I confess that I love cemeteries. Especially old ones, where the names of the buried are weathered beyond legibility. There is something tranquil about these places. And also, cemeteries serve to remind me that like all who came before me, I too will become dust. This does not make me sad or anxious. In fact, it strangely comforts me. It makes me realize how unimportant so much of our life is, and how precious are the finer, more subtle points.

Issue 4

Will is aware of time passing as he moves through the woods. Of things changing. How much of either, though, he can’t say. There is less and less he’s sure of here in the dark. All he knows is that this strange world is growing even stranger.

Ah yes. I look around, scan the news headlines, and I am forced to admit that these are strange days, indeed. And just when you think it can’t get any weirder, it does. But I’m OK with that. Strange times are interesting times. I don’t think I would be happy living in a sterile, unchanging world. Change is good. I embrace it.

That’s all I have to share. Thanks for stopping by, and have an amazing day.

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A Quote from “American Gods: My Ainsel” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 09

Gods are great. But the heart is greater. From our hearts they come, and to our hearts they return…

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Thoughts on “The Magicians” by Lev Grossman

I’ve had my eye on this trilogy for a while. Everyone I know who has read Grossman’s Magicians Trilogy has raved about it. I’m just always hesitant to commit to a trilogy. But at last, I bought the first book and read it, and I have to say that it certainly lived up to all the hype.

Basically, Grossman takes aspects from some of the best fantasy books and weaves together a tale that is unique, yet seems familiar. I had impressions of Harry Potter, Narnia, Game of Thrones, and Lord of the Rings. But there is also a modern edginess to the book, which works well in my opinion.

There is a lot that can be explored in this text—addiction, power, corruption, escapism—just to name a few. But since brevity is the soul of wit, I’m just going to focus this post on the topics of magic and the multiverse.

Early in the book, Quentin enters a school of magic, and one of the professors offers an interesting definition of magic.

“The study of magic is not a science, it is not an art, and it is not a religion. Magic is a craft. When we do magic, we do not wish and we do not pray. We rely upon our will and our knowledge and our skill to make a specific change to the world.”

(p. 48)

This definition resembles Aleister Crowley’s, which states that magick is “the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will.” And as Quentin continues his studies, he learns that the actual practice of magic is quite difficult, and is not something that comes easily, which is how magic is often depicted in books.

One thing had always confused Quentin about the magic he had read about in books: it never seemed especially hard to do. There were lots of furrowed brows and thick books and long white beards and whatnot, but when it came right down to it, you memorized the incantation—or you just read it off the page, if that was too much trouble—you collected the herbs, waved the wand, rubbed the lamp, mixed the potion, said the words—and just like that the forces of the beyond did your bidding. It was like making salad dressing or driving stick or assembling Ikea furniture—just another skill you could learn. It took some time and effort, but compared to doing calculus, say, or playing the oboe—well, there really was no comparison. Any idiot could do magic.

Quentin had been perversely relieved when he learned that there was more to it than that.

(pp. 148 – 149)

As a writer, I understand that words are just symbols intended to represent aspects of our reality. Which is why I was intrigued by a passage that asserts that magic somehow dissolves the boundaries that exist between language and reality, that it merges the symbol and that which the symbol represents into a single form.

“But somehow in the heat of magic that boundary between word and thing ruptures. It cracks, and the one flows back into the other, and the two melt together and fuse. Language gets tangled up with the world it describes.”

(pp. 216 – 217)

After graduating the school of magic, one of the young magicians, Penny, discovers a way to access parallel dimensions of reality, or what theoretical physics would call the multiverse. He terms this portal to the other dimensions the City (also Neitherlands), which seems like a type of matrix that allows one to pass from one reality to another. Penny goes on to explain to his friends what this means to our limited view of reality.

“The thing is, the more I study it, the more I think it’s exactly the opposite—that our world has much less substance than the City, and what we experience as reality is really just a footnote to what goes on there. An epiphenomenon.”

(p. 250)

Penny proposes exploring an alternate world (Fillory), which was described in a book that the other young magicians had all read. Quentin is reluctant, but Penny pushes the issue, stressing that the exploration of hidden dimensions is truly the greatest quest that humans can embark upon.

“So what?” Penny stood up. “So. What. So what if Fillory doesn’t work out? Which it will? So we end up somewhere else. It’s another world, Quentin. It’s a million other worlds. The Neitherlands are the place where the worlds meet! Who knows what other imaginary universes might turn out to be real? All of human literature could just be a user’s guide to the multiverse! Once I marked off a hundred squares straight in one direction and never saw the edge of this place. We could explore for the rest of our lives and never begin to map it all. This is it, Quentin! It’s the new frontier, the challenge of our generation and the next fifty generations after that!”

(p. 260)

As Hamlet so eloquently put it: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” I strongly suspect that there are multiple universes existing beyond our current scope of perception, and just maybe, ancient mystical arts once provided glimpses of these hidden realms. It certainly warrants further exploration. If we dismiss ideas and potential knowledge because they conflict with our present paradigms, we are doing so at our own risk.

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Merry Solstice! Hellboy: Winter Special 2018

I enjoy the Hellboy Winter Specials, particularly because I like winter ghost tales, and the Specials usually contain several stand-alone vignettes that make for a fun read. This issue has three stories. The first two I liked; the third, not so much. But I wanted to share a passage from the second vignette entitled “Lost Ones” which I liked.

“We are gathered here, in the core of the woods, in the dead silence of the coldest night of winter… to guarantee the fertilizing of Nature and the birth of new life… and to protect our land from the evil spirits that might come to possess and poison our crops. The winter has been long and harsh, but with our help it will give place to the abundance of spring.”

I liked this passage because it draws on the imagery of the Solstice. On the longest night of the year, I like to shift my spiritual focus to the coming of spring, to the shift from darkness to light, and from death to regeneration. It marks a somber time of the year, but one that holds the seeds of promise.

May you have a blessed holiday in whatever tradition you embrace.

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The Sandman Universe: The Dreaming – Issue 04

I have not felt the need to write about the previous issues in this arc, but this one has a section I found very interesting and thought it worth sharing.

In this book, Cain is the archetype of the first murderer. He is, essentially, murder itself. But Cain is transported to another dimension of existence where an unformed entity informs Cain that he is not, in fact, the archetype of the first murder, but something else, instigating an existential crisis on a cosmic level.

Unformed: … There is a scenario. It begins with two brothers. Two holy gifts. One sacrifice is deemed superior, and so–

Cain: — So I killed him. I am murder! I’m the patron saint of killers!

Unformed: No. That is a flawed understanding of the metaphor. Your brother remembered it more accurately.

Cain: That bumbler! That sweat-bladder! That craven! the first victim–that’s his role! He’ll never be any more than–

Unformed: What gifts did you offer, Cain…? In the classic paradigm.

Cain: W-we… we were farmers. I offered the fruits of the land. I…I toiled and worked my fingers to the bone! While he–he–

Unformed: He was a raiser of stock. He slaughtered the first beast, Cain. Does that sound like the act of a coward?

Cain: I… B-but…

Unformed: His hands were red long before yours. You must undress yourself of false positives if you are to find favor in the new realm. You must reassess all your muddled mysteries before the chrysalis opens. You are not the first killer, Cain of the mark, Cain the wanderer, Cain the lost. You are merely the first to resent. But you are far from the last.

I found this an amazing interpretation of the Biblical tale. And it makes a lot of sense. Cain was not the first to take a life. Abel was, being the first to kill an animal, one of God’s living creations. And Cain resented Abel’s favor, and resentment breeds anger, envy, jealousy, rage… an entire Pandora’s Box of social ills. How many of our problems stem from resentment? Especially resentment that is kept hidden, which grows in the darker recesses of the mind. Resentment is so toxic, it can ultimately destroy almost anything.

I confess I was ready to give up on this series, but this last installment has rekindled my interest again. Hence, I will read on! Thanks for stopping by and sharing in my musings. Have an inspirational day.

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