The Magicians, by Lev Grossman
I don't remember exactly what path led me to Lev Grossman's The Magicians, but I do know that the book got some very complimentary commentary from some very smart people. I also noticed that it was on my son's "To Read" list on Goodreads. So I... um-m-m-m... obtained... an ebook copy. I sent my son a copy, and then settled in to read.
By the time my son got back to me -- "Actually, I read it some time ago, but never updated Goodreads; it was OK, kinda, but don't bother with the follow-ups" -- I had already abandoned the book. I slogged half-way through before packing it in.
The book is billed as a "gritty Harry Potter". I like "gritty" as a change of pace from the more common Dudley Do-right fantasy heroes. Joe Abercrombie's Logen Ninefingers ( The Blade Itself , ...) changed the standard for "fantasy hero" forever.
But Lev Grossman's "hero", Quentin Coldwater, is not "gritty". Quentin Coldwater is a jerk . He's a guy who has a ton of advantages, who is on track for magical superstardom... and who whines all the time.
Grossman is a very good painter: his descriptions are vivid, and he recounts events with details that pop. So I'll be willing to try something from him again.
But not Quentin Coldwater. I don't want to spend my precious time on a jerk.
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