A Wizard of Earthsea [#books #review]

by Ursula K. Le Guin

Earthsea
The Tombs of Atuan →

Rating: 8.5/10

For a word to be spoken, there must be silence. Before, and after.
Ged

The life of Ged, called Sparrowhawk, is told to us starting from his childhood, when he discovered his magical gifts, until he reached adulthood, when he could defeat his terrible enemy.

Once again, when I happen to read a fantasy novel classified as "for kids", I wonder how much that is true. The first time I read this book, I was no longer properly a little girl, I think I was 17 or 18, and I remember that I was a little disappointed. Rereading it as an adult, instead, I found it really beautiful.

Anyway, this is indeed a coming-of-age novel, so perhaps it's for this reason that it can be classified among those "for children": it tells of Ged's growth, his journey to understand himself, his role as a wizard, it's also about friendship, wisdom, and in short everything is needed to make a man out of a boy, especially a man as extraordinary as it seems he will be.

Quotes

The Island of Gont, a single mountain that lifts its peak a mile above the storm-racked Northeast Sea, is a land famous for wizards. From the towns in its high valleys and the ports on its dark narrow bays many a Gontishman has gone forth to serve the Lords of the Archipelago in their cities as wizard or mage, or, looking for adventure, to wander working magic from isle to isle of all Earthsea.

[incipit]

He thought no more of performing the lesser arts of magic than a bird thinks of flying. Yet a greater, unlearned skill he possessed, which was the art of kindness.

[Short description of Vetch, Ged's friend]

But Ged went on, falcon-winged, falcon-mad, like an unfalling arrow, like an unforgotten thought, over the Osskil Sea and eastward into the wind of winter and the night.

Years and distances, stars and candles, water and wind and wizardry, the craft in a man's hand and the wisdom in a tree's root: they all arise together. My name, and yours, and the true name of the sun, or a spring of water, or an unborn child, all are syllables of the great word that is very slowly spoken by the shining of the stars. There is no other power. No other name.

[What of death?]

For a word to be spoken, there must be silence. Before, and after.

Ged

Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky.

From the "Song of Éa", sung by Vetch