Years after Tolkien wrote his critical essay On Fairy Stories, which fiercely argues that fantasy is not just for children, the adult fantasy market is thriving. The Young Adult fantasy market is just as successful, and its success can be attributed to authors like Ursula K. Le Guin. Her Earthsea series is poignant, complex, and vibrant while still holding appeal for young adults.
Despite my obsession with The Lord of the Rings, I’ve been looking to try out other fantasy books in recent months to deepen my familiarity with the genre. One of my roommates took an English class on fantasy literature this past semester, so she generously let me snoop through her stack of books. I’ve been hoping to read a book by Le Guin for a while, so the first book in her Earthsea series felt like a natural choice.
First off, this book is a very easy and enjoyable read. Just because it’s designated as YA doesn’t mean adults should shy away from it—in fact, if you’re looking to dip your toe into fantasy, this is a perfect book to start with. I coasted through it in a few days, but that doesn’t mean it’s a “simple” or “boring” read. Le Guin does a whole lot with just a little bit of room. Picture a headstrong, arrogant young man who unleashes a shadowy demon upon the world, bounces between towns to escape it, and ultimately gains the courage and maturity to pursue it all the way to the end of the world—all in 215 pages. Oh, and he faces a dragon as well!
The protagonist’s name is Ged, nicknamed ‘Sparrowhawk,’ and you’ll likely find him to be gravely annoying at the beginning of the book. He’s preoccupied with being “the best,” and he’s obsessed with outperforming his rival at the School for Wizards. You’ll probably be able to detect a hint of your teenage self in his haughty demeanor, and it’s his attitude that ultimately gets him into deep trouble when he lets a Shadow loose. With that said, he’s nothing if not relatable, and his transformation from self-absorbed youth to humble wizard reveals what is exceptionally unique about this fantasy book: it is not about fighting wars, demons, or monsters, but instead about coming to terms with one’s own flaws and failures. In the phenomenal Afterword to the edition I read, Le Guin elaborates on her intention behind fashioning Ged into a hero whose heroism lies in defeating his own Shadow:
“My imagination refuses to limit all the elements that make an adventure story and make it exciting—danger, risk, challenge, courage—to battlefields. A hero whose heroism consists of killing people is uninteresting to me”
p. 223
If you’re looking for battle and action, this may not be the book for you, but if you’re looking for a powerful character study within a fascinating, archipelagic setting, I highly recommend it. I must say that the book felt slow at a couple of points, particularly because Ged spends a great deal of time in transition on the ocean. However, I am very interested in the world Le Guin has developed, with its island nations, geographic diversity, and cultures that are both intersecting and isolated.
I also love that this book is centered on the importance of respecting the natural world. The practice of sorcery is centered not just on commanding things, but on knowing their “true names” and understanding the consequences of trying to permanently alter them. Consider this lesson Ged learns from the Master Hand, one of his sorcery instructors:
“To change this rock into a jewel, you must change its true name. And to do that, my son, even to so small a scrap of the world, it to change the world…you must not change one thing, one pebble, one grain of sand, until you know what good and evil will follow on that act. The world is in balance, in Equilibrium. A wizard’s power of Changing and Summoning can shake the balance of the world.”
p. 51
The quote above reminds me of the philosophy practiced by Tolkien’s character Tom Bombadil, in The Lord of the Rings—being free from ownership or possession of anything, especially nature. When Ged practices spells later in the book, such as the “magewind” designed to steer ships, Le Guin employs fluid, dreamlike language that captures the value of transition—maintaining a constant balance between wind, water, and land—quite beautifully. This is a story that is not about the potential destruction or permanent alteration of the world, but about being able to evolve with the world and adapt to it.
Overall, I recommend this book as a foray into the fantasy genre and a reminder that well-written fantasy doesn’t have to revolve around violence or valor in battle. Ged’s journey is one I hope to continue later on, when I read more books in the series. Consider purchasing this version, which includes an updated Afterword from Le Guin, and happy reading!
