Much less epic
in scope, The Tombs of Atuan has a
very different feel to it than the first book. Arha doesn’t seem to be destined
for greatness and adventure. On the contrary, she seems to be condemned to the
dark world of a cult to Nameless (and most probably faceless) powers. Her days
are filled with dancing and sacrifice and countless hours of tedium. Once her
duties as One Priestess led her to the Undertomb and the Labyrinth, she went on
to explore these pitch dark passages in great detail until one day she
encounters a wizard whose come to rob one of the greatest treasures in all of
Earthsea. It’s at that point that the novel really kicks off into high gear and
Le Guin entertained me endlessly.
This wizard, of course,
is Ged from the first book. Now that he’s encountered and accepted the evil
that is part of him, he’s become incredibly wise, patient and powerful. For
anybody who’s read A Wizard of Earthsea,
we know how this story ends but it doesn’t matter. Le Guin makes the events
happen in such a beautiful and organic way that I didn’t care that I knew the
outcome. Ged and Tenar’s interactions were a joy to read. How can she sacrifice
such a powerful wizard from the outside world to the Nameless powers? She’s
become far too bored and spiteful of her life as the One Priestes to ever entertain
the thought for too long. Instead of ending in violence, their time together
slowly built into a friendship based on trust and a mutual desire to be saved.
Tenar is no damsel in distress. She’s a young woman who has been far too well
protected to the point where it’s stunted her growth as a person. Her
inquisitive nature and desire for freedom eventually resurfaced after years of
forceful repression. What she learns in company with Ged is just extraordinary
and Le Guin’s sure hand and masterful writing made it all feel, well, magical.
As I mentioned earlier,
The Tombs of Atuan is an Earthsea
tale told in a completely different perspective than the first novel. It’s not
grand and mythic, it’s small and personal. There are no dragons in this book,
but Ged defeats a foe equally powerful as a dragon (a bored Priestess) and he
does it with style and a quiet confidence that was a sheer pleasure to read
about. If you weren’t convince of Ged’s greatest and power at the end of the first
book, seeing him through Tenar’s eyes will surely help in convincing you now.
Magic in Earthsea:
Le Guin gives us a different perspective on magic in
Earthsea. It’s not just about names, that’s the basics of it but it’s by no
means the source of a wizard’s power. That comes from trust, friendship and
compassion. The greatest act of wizardry by Ged in Atuan was rescuing Tenar and
in turn being rescued by her. It’s a beautiful journey of self-discovery by two
strangers who, despite the evil that could be found in their hearts and in the
land find a way to free themselves and each other of dark responsibilities. It
means nothing that you know the language of magic if you don’t have the sense
to use it properly.
Le Guin shares with her readers that magic in Earthsea is
not about having the power to do anything. It’s about having the power to do
anything and doing the best thing. When travelling through the mountains, half
starved, Tenar asks Ged if he can conjure any food. He could, but it would be
all illusion, leaving them hungrier than they were. What about real food? He
could call a rabbit to them but using its true name but would you then be able
to kill the rabbit and eat it if you called it by its true name? It would be
breaking an important trust between the rabbit and the one who knows its name.
Magic isn’t really used for everyday things. Wizards and
Mages do not go around unlocking doors with magic. Tenar says to Ged about
magic: “‘Your Magic is peculiar,’ she said, with little dignity of equals, Priestess
addressing Mage. ‘It appears to be useful only for large matter.’” That may
well be true but Ged goes on to inform her that “large matters” can wary in
size and form. Stopping an earthquake, defeating dragons, those are clearly
large matters, but maintaining trust between two beings despite the
difficulties they must face is another type of “large matter”.
Dave Sim once said that the essence of storytelling is two people talking in a room. I don’t recall that ever being presented so beautifully than by Le Guin in The Tombs of Atuan. She harnesses this idea by having significant portions of the book be Lenar and Ged talking in near complete darkness in the underground labyrinth. The things they discover about each other and about themselves by simply conversing were impressive to witness. A trues tour de force by Le Guin, she’s a master of her craft.
A Wizard of Earthsea was about discovering yourself by accepting
who you are, the good with the bad. The
Tombs of Atuan is learning to free yourself by discovering who you are through
your interactions with someone else. It’s much harder to help someone out of
their misery than it is to condemn them to it, but it’s much more rewarding for
both parties involved, when you talk it out and decide to risk it all by
trusting your enemy to be the one to help you through tough times.
Lovely insightful review
ReplyDeleteThanks, Arthur!
ReplyDeleteI love LeGuin's Earthsea series. Superbly written.