To this day, I have no idea why this has ended up as one of my top ten favourite novels of all time: there’s so many elements which should have turned me off ages ago, and there’s a plethora of mistakes committed towards the end that nearly undermine the whole thing. But in spite of these flaws, the book remains entertaining, funny, heartbreaking, and maybe even a little insightful.
But let’s address the pros and cons in order, shall we?
First of all, Brakebills proves to be a fascinating setting, at once idyllic yet horribly flawed. Like Quentin, I fell in love with the place even as I grew increasingly concerned with its many oddities – the Training from Hell most of all. In the same vein, magic truly fascinated me in this story by doing away with efforts to make it simple or imitable. In ‘’The Magicians,’’ magic feels as though it takes effort, intelligence and obsession. It takes months to begin and years to master, but once it’s done, truly incredible things can be achieved. It short, magic feels magical.
Meanwhile, Quentin aside, the characters are an enjoyable bunch despite their many flaws. My favourite is undoubtedly Alice: a much more understated presence in a school full of tumescent personalities, she can usually be relied upon to exclude herself from some of the more histrionic behaviour of her fellow students, demonstrate the terrible trap that post-graduate life can become, and even outdo all her friends in sheer magical might. Plus, she delivers sweet chin music to Quentin. What’s not to like?
Finally, I always like to see parodies evolving beyond their origins to become something more complex, more layered and original in their own strange way. ‘’The Magicians’’ seems to have begun life as a parody of Harry Potter and The Chronicles of Narnia, but has evolved in order to tell its own story. What results is a world that is at peace but not quite at ease – a world of charming-yet-saddening dysfunction. Magic, as has been mentioned, can accomplish almost anything, but there’s no Dark Lord, no enemy to occupy the main characters’ attention: in this world, you have to find your own reason for living.
And so, with the plusses out of the way, now I have to talk about the negatives:
Quentin is one of my least favourite protagonists of all time, and one of the more frustrating things about him is that he was meant to be unlikable and does his job too damn well. He’s okay at the beginning, but I started to feel real distaste for him around the time he got a fellow student killed out of immaturity and refused to confess, but it wasn’t until he betrayed Alice and began taking out his frustrations on everyone that I actually found myself genuinely hating him. By now, I know he gradually improves, but that doesn’t make his bad behaviour any easier to stomach in the here and now.
On that note, the second half of the book is where things slip; up until this point there are very few things (apart from Welters) that I honestly felt the story could do without, but here, there’s a stumble. Quentin’s rotten attitude sours the journey to Fillory for the reader almost as much as it does for the rest of the characters, and as much as I liked Alice’s big argument and the final showdown with the Beast… it felt a bit directionless up until then, and the other fights feel a bit… contractually obliged.
Finally, I really wish the novel did more with the Beast.
But with all that said, in spite of all those flaws, The Magicians still numbers among my most favourite books of all time, and I heartily enjoy it to this day.
The Magicians: Brilliant But Flawed.
To this day, I have no idea why this has ended up as one of my top ten favourite novels of all time: there’s so many elements which should have turned me off ages ago, and there’s a plethora of mistakes committed towards the end that nearly undermine the whole thing. But in spite of these flaws, the book remains entertaining, funny, heartbreaking, and maybe even a little insightful.
But let’s address the pros and cons in order, shall we?
First of all, Brakebills proves to be a fascinating setting, at once idyllic yet horribly flawed. Like Quentin, I fell in love with the place even as I grew increasingly concerned with its many oddities – the Training from Hell most of all. In the same vein, magic truly fascinated me in this story by doing away with efforts to make it simple or imitable. In ‘’The Magicians,’’ magic feels as though it takes effort, intelligence and obsession. It takes months to begin and years to master, but once it’s done, truly incredible things can be achieved. It short, magic feels magical.
Meanwhile, Quentin aside, the characters are an enjoyable bunch despite their many flaws. My favourite is undoubtedly Alice: a much more understated presence in a school full of tumescent personalities, she can usually be relied upon to exclude herself from some of the more histrionic behaviour of her fellow students, demonstrate the terrible trap that post-graduate life can become, and even outdo all her friends in sheer magical might. Plus, she delivers sweet chin music to Quentin. What’s not to like?
Finally, I always like to see parodies evolving beyond their origins to become something more complex, more layered and original in their own strange way. ‘’The Magicians’’ seems to have begun life as a parody of Harry Potter and The Chronicles of Narnia, but has evolved in order to tell its own story. What results is a world that is at peace but not quite at ease – a world of charming-yet-saddening dysfunction. Magic, as has been mentioned, can accomplish almost anything, but there’s no Dark Lord, no enemy to occupy the main characters’ attention: in this world, you have to find your own reason for living.
And so, with the plusses out of the way, now I have to talk about the negatives:
Quentin is one of my least favourite protagonists of all time, and one of the more frustrating things about him is that he was meant to be unlikable and does his job too damn well. He’s okay at the beginning, but I started to feel real distaste for him around the time he got a fellow student killed out of immaturity and refused to confess, but it wasn’t until he betrayed Alice and began taking out his frustrations on everyone that I actually found myself genuinely hating him. By now, I know he gradually improves, but that doesn’t make his bad behaviour any easier to stomach in the here and now.
On that note, the second half of the book is where things slip; up until this point there are very few things (apart from Welters) that I honestly felt the story could do without, but here, there’s a stumble. Quentin’s rotten attitude sours the journey to Fillory for the reader almost as much as it does for the rest of the characters, and as much as I liked Alice’s big argument and the final showdown with the Beast… it felt a bit directionless up until then, and the other fights feel a bit… contractually obliged.
Finally, I really wish the novel did more with the Beast.
But with all that said, in spite of all those flaws, The Magicians still numbers among my most favourite books of all time, and I heartily enjoy it to this day.