Book Review: The Magicians by Lev Grossman

I wanted to love The Magicians. I'm not an ardent fantasy reader, but I've read, and enjoyed, some of the well-known fantasy series, like Chronicles of Narnia, and Lord of the Rings. I prefer magical realism, such as Like Water for Chocolate or Practical Magic or The Master and Margarita or even Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (though that last one is classified as either fantasy or alternate history) where the extraordinary is written naturally into a realistic setting. Or, as Neil Ayres so much more eloquently describes it, "a reality similar to our own, in which the impossible can occur without comment." (I think that's why I enjoy paranormal horror so much--it brings the unnatural into the natural world, and that's what is so horrifying.) Magical realism is all the rage, winning awards, dominating Latin American fiction, and even making Oprah's book club. (O's website even gives advice on how to read magical realism.)

Magical realism is what I thought The Magicians promised. "Harry Potter meets Holden Caulfield," read the blurbs. A gray world where evil is not so easily defined and magic is not so much fantastical as it is difficult, mundane, and dangerous.

The story follows high school senior Quentin Clearwater as he learns that not only is magic real, but also that he has earned an admissions test at Brakebills, a college for magic. Grossman's descriptions of magic, its practicality, its natural extension from the laws of physics, seems fresh and real. The students don't use wands. Magic is messy and complicated. This first part of the tale, as Quentin enters and absorbs the magical world, is pretty cool.

But there is another aspect to The Magicians: Quentin's obsession with a fantasy series he has read numerous times, called Fillory and Further. After Quentin completes his education at Brakebills, he finds himself lost, without purpose, unable to find a focus or interest in his life (He's a magician...but now what?) until events lead to the discovery, by Quentin and his friends, that the magical land of Fillory is real.

And that is where the story slips over the knife-edge on which it had thus far so delicately balanced. The final part of Quentin's story is full-on fantasy, complete with river nymphs, animated trees, talking animals, and life-sized insects. He and his friends embark on a quest in the land of Fillory, and predictably encounter more than they bargained for, as nothing in Fillory turns out to be just how they imagined it from reading the books.

Throughout the first part of The Magicians, magical education is only the backdrop to the typical young adult angst that the students of Brakebills, like most college kids, struggle with: drug and alcohol use, sexual encounters of varying degrees of success, and the difficulty of finding one's path in life. It's all very common, somewhat gritty stuff, except with some cool magic going on as well. But by the time they're in Fillory, talking with a bear and a tree and fighting oversized woodland creatures, it just seems kind of silly. Perhaps that is the very point Grossman was trying to make: entering a world of fantasy "for real" is not as wondrous and magical as it is in the books.

But I kind of already knew that, and I'm sure devoted fantasy readers know it better than I, which makes for a less-than-enjoyable reading for all of us.

Previously posted at 1,001 Ways to Avoid Writing