First-time reader here. I was genuinely surprised that the Shadow’s name turned out to be the same as Ged’s, and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I wondered if the solution would be that Ged had to ask the Shadow for its name, the way he did with the Doorkeeper on Rok, but apparently not.
Tangentially related to your points on honesty, I think one of the reasons I like LeGuin’s two-names mechanic is that using someone’s secret name (if you know it) is a very effective way to show that you’re being completely serious. Because people don’t share them or use them lightly, it creates an environment both of closeness and of seriousness, which seems to facilitate candor and honesty.
I really enjoyed the book! I think the reading pace was just about right. I probably wouldn’t have joined any Zoom calls, but I do see their potential for having a more wide-ranging discussion. There was definitely a lot to talk about packed into each chapter.
Thank you so much for the bookclub. Though I didn’t comment, I treasured your posts and the community of readers. It was the perfect coda to the season. Peace keep you.
Another first time reader here. I honestly didn’t enjoy the book all that much — I think the “high” fantasy tone just wasn’t for me. (I also didn’t have a lot of pre-knowledge going into reading, so it’s possible I just wasn’t prepared for what to expect.)
One thing I *did* enjoy was Ged and Vetch’s friendship. In this last chapter especially, it reminded me of the friendship between Frodo and Sam. One person is under a terrible, all-consuming doom. The other person is more firmly rooted in the world of the “ordinary” (both Sam and Vetch have charmingly domestic lives before their friend and his quest interrupts), and yet is unwaveringly committed to sharing something that is fundamentally unshareable. Also, both Sam and Vetch choose to join the unconquerable quest through their own volition — not at their friend’s request, and in fact against their friend’s protests.
For other readers, I’m curious whether this kind of friendship (stronger perhaps because of its asymmetry?) ever shows up in the real world, or if it only makes sense in the context of certain kinds of stories.
I especially appreciate you commenting given that it wasn't as much to your taste!
Your characterization of their friendship suggests a real world analogy to me:
"One person is under a terrible, all-consuming doom. The other person is more firmly rooted in the world of the “ordinary” (both Sam and Vetch have charmingly domestic lives before their friend and his quest interrupts), and yet is unwaveringly committed to sharing something that is fundamentally unshareable."
This sounds like friendship with someone with a severe, chronic illness who is only partially present in the "kingdom of the well."
Oh yes, that's a good example. I can think of so many times my husband has born whatever he could of the effects of my chronic illness (not terribly severe, thankfully), without being able to bear the chronic illness itself (nor would I want him to). And also giving me a life-line back to ordinary joy and light when I need it.
And because I'm forty weeks tomorrow, I'm also put in mind of the role of a birth partner (spouse or mother or close friend), who is necessary and valued *precisely because* they aren't able to do the laboring for the mother.
This was my first time reading Wizard of Earthsea, and I'm so glad the bookclub prompted me to finally pick it up! I'm a LeGuin fan but for some unknown reason never had read it - I truly loved it. My greatest fear heading into the climax was that Vetch would be killed off, that somehow he would sacrifice himself for his friend. I'm so glad that didn't happen!
To your question about hard truths vs invitations to despair, a few ways I use to discern which is which:
> Does it make me angry / upset or sad / apathetic? If the former, there's an energy being generated, which can be harnessed. If the latter, it's a potentially dangerous energy drain.
> Do I want to run from it or wallow in it? If I want to run from it (either through distractions/procrastination or fear) I should generally turn to face it. If I want to wallow in it and whine about it, it's generally not helpful to do so.
> Is hope tangible or obscure? On the other side of a hard truth is a better future or better self, on the other side of much despair is a constant never ending striving for more or different.
First-time reader here. I was genuinely surprised that the Shadow’s name turned out to be the same as Ged’s, and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I wondered if the solution would be that Ged had to ask the Shadow for its name, the way he did with the Doorkeeper on Rok, but apparently not.
Tangentially related to your points on honesty, I think one of the reasons I like LeGuin’s two-names mechanic is that using someone’s secret name (if you know it) is a very effective way to show that you’re being completely serious. Because people don’t share them or use them lightly, it creates an environment both of closeness and of seriousness, which seems to facilitate candor and honesty.
I really enjoyed the book! I think the reading pace was just about right. I probably wouldn’t have joined any Zoom calls, but I do see their potential for having a more wide-ranging discussion. There was definitely a lot to talk about packed into each chapter.
Thank you so much for the bookclub. Though I didn’t comment, I treasured your posts and the community of readers. It was the perfect coda to the season. Peace keep you.
Another first time reader here. I honestly didn’t enjoy the book all that much — I think the “high” fantasy tone just wasn’t for me. (I also didn’t have a lot of pre-knowledge going into reading, so it’s possible I just wasn’t prepared for what to expect.)
One thing I *did* enjoy was Ged and Vetch’s friendship. In this last chapter especially, it reminded me of the friendship between Frodo and Sam. One person is under a terrible, all-consuming doom. The other person is more firmly rooted in the world of the “ordinary” (both Sam and Vetch have charmingly domestic lives before their friend and his quest interrupts), and yet is unwaveringly committed to sharing something that is fundamentally unshareable. Also, both Sam and Vetch choose to join the unconquerable quest through their own volition — not at their friend’s request, and in fact against their friend’s protests.
For other readers, I’m curious whether this kind of friendship (stronger perhaps because of its asymmetry?) ever shows up in the real world, or if it only makes sense in the context of certain kinds of stories.
I especially appreciate you commenting given that it wasn't as much to your taste!
Your characterization of their friendship suggests a real world analogy to me:
"One person is under a terrible, all-consuming doom. The other person is more firmly rooted in the world of the “ordinary” (both Sam and Vetch have charmingly domestic lives before their friend and his quest interrupts), and yet is unwaveringly committed to sharing something that is fundamentally unshareable."
This sounds like friendship with someone with a severe, chronic illness who is only partially present in the "kingdom of the well."
Oh yes, that's a good example. I can think of so many times my husband has born whatever he could of the effects of my chronic illness (not terribly severe, thankfully), without being able to bear the chronic illness itself (nor would I want him to). And also giving me a life-line back to ordinary joy and light when I need it.
And because I'm forty weeks tomorrow, I'm also put in mind of the role of a birth partner (spouse or mother or close friend), who is necessary and valued *precisely because* they aren't able to do the laboring for the mother.
This was my first time reading Wizard of Earthsea, and I'm so glad the bookclub prompted me to finally pick it up! I'm a LeGuin fan but for some unknown reason never had read it - I truly loved it. My greatest fear heading into the climax was that Vetch would be killed off, that somehow he would sacrifice himself for his friend. I'm so glad that didn't happen!
To your question about hard truths vs invitations to despair, a few ways I use to discern which is which:
> Does it make me angry / upset or sad / apathetic? If the former, there's an energy being generated, which can be harnessed. If the latter, it's a potentially dangerous energy drain.
> Do I want to run from it or wallow in it? If I want to run from it (either through distractions/procrastination or fear) I should generally turn to face it. If I want to wallow in it and whine about it, it's generally not helpful to do so.
> Is hope tangible or obscure? On the other side of a hard truth is a better future or better self, on the other side of much despair is a constant never ending striving for more or different.
Definitely interested in 1-2 zoom calls!