The Magician King, as the second book in the series, immediately sets out to fix the deficiencies that weakened The Magicians - and for the most part, does so quite well. For one thing, now that we've gotten all the monolithic worldbuilding of the first book out of the way, we can actually focus on plot and character.
However, the most important step forward for the series is the fact that Quentin is now sharing protagonist duties with a much more interesting and genuinely tragic character: Julia. Putting aside the fact that - like Alice before her - she ends up dragging Quentin off his high horse on several occasions – her character arc is easily the most compelling thing in the saga so far. It leaves Quentin's first-book character arc in the dust, and the fact that it's told through contrasting flashbacks only adds to the mystery of what happened to her. And in many ways, her arc is also more cathartic: quite apart from the fact that Julia actually endures more and experiences more than the endlessly-callow Quentin, Julia actually finds a way out of her depression: she earns her happy ending.
As much as I like to pick on Quentin (unimaginably easy as it is), he genuinely develops as a character here: after accidentally returning to Earth, he finally learns some much-needed humility after finding himself in the presence of those who weren’t as lucky or as spoiled as him. Eventually, he’s forced to face the fact that he might never see Fillory again… and instead of being overwhelmed with angst, he reacts with acceptance: he realizes how lucky he is to still have the company of good friends, the simple pleasures of wine and food, and the wonder of magic.
He learns to take responsibility, to stop risking what he loves in favour of selfish fantasies, even to recognize the beauty of places beyond his narrow interests. In fact, I might even go so far as to state that he actually becomes somewhat… likeable. Yes, really.
Now, as for the plot itself, it owes even more to Narnia than Hogwarts this time around, and while it provides some interesting twists – especially with the return of the gods and the imminent loss of magic – I find that Julia’s half of the story is once again the most fascinating.
Also, this story features rape as a plot element in a mature way that doesn’t seem exploitative or cheap. Indeed, the evidence for the awful truth is hidden in plain sight for most of the novel and it’s not until the end that the cause behind all these symptoms becomes terrifyingly apparent. Unlike, say Game of Thrones, it’s not treated as something needed for character development, and becoming a cold-hearted emotionless “badass” automaton in response is not treated as desirable; indeed, the latter element is treated as a steppingstone to recovery, to regaining happiness and moving on.
All in all, a very good second entry in the series.
The Magician King: A Better Protagonist For A Better Story
The Magician King, as the second book in the series, immediately sets out to fix the deficiencies that weakened The Magicians - and for the most part, does so quite well. For one thing, now that we've gotten all the monolithic worldbuilding of the first book out of the way, we can actually focus on plot and character.
However, the most important step forward for the series is the fact that Quentin is now sharing protagonist duties with a much more interesting and genuinely tragic character: Julia. Putting aside the fact that - like Alice before her - she ends up dragging Quentin off his high horse on several occasions – her character arc is easily the most compelling thing in the saga so far. It leaves Quentin's first-book character arc in the dust, and the fact that it's told through contrasting flashbacks only adds to the mystery of what happened to her. And in many ways, her arc is also more cathartic: quite apart from the fact that Julia actually endures more and experiences more than the endlessly-callow Quentin, Julia actually finds a way out of her depression: she earns her happy ending.
As much as I like to pick on Quentin (unimaginably easy as it is), he genuinely develops as a character here: after accidentally returning to Earth, he finally learns some much-needed humility after finding himself in the presence of those who weren’t as lucky or as spoiled as him. Eventually, he’s forced to face the fact that he might never see Fillory again… and instead of being overwhelmed with angst, he reacts with acceptance: he realizes how lucky he is to still have the company of good friends, the simple pleasures of wine and food, and the wonder of magic.
He learns to take responsibility, to stop risking what he loves in favour of selfish fantasies, even to recognize the beauty of places beyond his narrow interests. In fact, I might even go so far as to state that he actually becomes somewhat… likeable. Yes, really.
Now, as for the plot itself, it owes even more to Narnia than Hogwarts this time around, and while it provides some interesting twists – especially with the return of the gods and the imminent loss of magic – I find that Julia’s half of the story is once again the most fascinating.
Also, this story features rape as a plot element in a mature way that doesn’t seem exploitative or cheap. Indeed, the evidence for the awful truth is hidden in plain sight for most of the novel and it’s not until the end that the cause behind all these symptoms becomes terrifyingly apparent. Unlike, say Game of Thrones, it’s not treated as something needed for character development, and becoming a cold-hearted emotionless “badass” automaton in response is not treated as desirable; indeed, the latter element is treated as a steppingstone to recovery, to regaining happiness and moving on.
All in all, a very good second entry in the series.