Customer Reviews

The Farthest Shore (The Earthsea Cycle, Book 3)

5 star:		(38)
4 star:		(17)
3 star:		(11)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

I first read the Earthsea Trilogy at the age of 9. I re-read it at secondary school at 17, during a moody teenager phase. Now I read it to children to whom I teach English. I am struck every time by how many different layers of meaning dwell in le Guin's text. I think the technical word is polysemic. It appeals to children, teenagers and adults by offering something to each, though ultimately offering the same to all: drama, adventure, and a fearless assault on the big issues that confront every one of us. Birth, life, death. And always in original, often startling or beautiful ways. Le Guin's use of language is sublime too; she has an absolute mastery of how long a sentence should be, what the words in it should sound like and what 'rhythm' a sentence should have. Moving explorations of life's great questions, investigated with originality and sophistication, harnessed to a dramatic adventure story, conjuring up grand vistas of new and thrilling worlds, created through a command of language and imagery as fine as any I have ever come across and made alive through characters that a child can warm to and an adult love. What a book.

This is one of the best fantasy trilogies out there because it is one of the most unique. It is often compared to Tolkien's Lord of the Rings but I find it hard to compare them because they are so different. Lord of the Rings is one very long story of a quest filled with battles and monsters while Earthsea is made up of three very seperate stories centering around the adventures of one character. Lord of the Rings is a straight-forward story that can be taken as just a good story if you don't want to ruin the fun with a bunch of thematic analyzation, although you can find heaps of stuff to analyze if you want. In Earthsea you cannot avoid the philosophies that LeGuin is trying to convey. But that does not get in the way of the stories. A Wizard of Earthsea is the first and best in my opinion, it has the most fascinating storyline and the most satisfying and beautifully realized conclusion when Ged finally confronts the creature he unleashed upon Earthsea. The Tombs of Atuan is the least of the three but still entertaining. The Farthest Shore is filled with scenes of Ged teaching Arren of the philosophy of balance and the power that fear has over people which are themes as relevent to our world as they are to Earthsea. Towards the end it is filled with dragons. Earthsea's dragons are the most interesting dragons I've read about in fantasy, not really good, but not really bad either although very wise. All three books are filled with vivid and beautiful atomosphere, and in all books it is love and courage that deafeat the evil forces of hate and fear. This is fantasy that is guaranteed to make you think.

The Farthest Shore is a story of a young prince name Arren who comes to Ged, the archmage at Roke to tell him of a magic drain in Earthsea. Roke is a magical island in which magic flows fluently and apprentices learn magery. They set out on the Lookfar, a sailing ship, to Hort Town, Lorbannery, and Dragon Run, 3 cities in Earthsea in search of the source of the magical drain. At dragon run they find dragons dying because they have lost their speech and they have become savages. A dragon named Orm Embar leads them to an island where they believe that there is a hole in Earthsea. They meet an evil wizard and are forced to battle him. The new character of Earthsea is named Arren. He is a prince, and a descendent of Morred, a famous king in Earthsea. He has no magical powers unlike his father who is a king. He has a magical sword, which throughout the story seems to be just a sword, but helps Arren out greatly in the end to destroy his enemies and protect Ged. He is very unsure of himself and his concept of betrayal trips him up. He helps Ged to solve the mystery and is a fun twist to the story of Earthsea. I would recommend this book with extreme prejudice because I personally am a fan of knights and magic and dragons. This book really is the best of all of the four Earthsea books.

In the third entry to the Earthsea series, Ged is now Arch-Mage, and is faced with a new crisis: Magic around the world is failing. Together with Arren, a young prince from Enlad, he journeys to the end of the world to battle and defeat the source of this threat to the world. His quest is to rescue Earthsea from the death of magic. It's an exciting adventure, perhaps even more so than the second volume of the series. It was the National Book Award winner for Children's Books in 1973.

But of particular interst is the fact that through the eyes of Arren, the reader gains a true appreciation for the enduring qualities of a LeGuine type fantasy. Arren is perplexed why Ged doesn't perform more magic, to the point where he even questions whether he is a true wizard. "Even in small matters magery was not worth counting on. Sparrowhawk was always miserly about employing his arts; they went by the world's wind whenever they might, they fished for food, and they spared their water, like any sailors ... There, thought Arren, lay the very heart of wizardry: to hint at mighty meanings while saying nothing at all, and to make doing nothing at all seem the very crown of wisdom." Over time Arren - and the reader - come to understand what magic in this world is really all about. Eventually Arren learns that true wizards don't do magic all the time: "The first lesson on Roke, and the last is: Do what is needful. And no more!"

This is the essence of magic in LeGuin's novels - one will not find here the trite magic used to make boys fly on brooms or make girls invisible, as one finds in books like Harry Potter. LeGuin's magic and fantasy is never trite, but always serious and credible. In many respects it represents an early form of new age philosophy. "On every act the balance of the whole depends. The winds and seas, the powers of water and earth and light, all that these do, and all that the beasts and green things do, is well done, and rightly done. All these act within the Equilibrium - But we, insofar as we have power over the world and over one another, we must *learn* to do what the leaf and the whale and the wind do of their own nature. We must learn to keep the balance." Much of it appears to have roots in Eastern philosophy such as the Taoist yin-yang. "There are two, Arren, two that make one: the world and the shadow, the light and the dark. The two poles of the Balance. Life rises out of death, death rises out of life; in being opposite they yearn to each other, they give birth to each other and are forever reborn." The climax of the plot is taken straight from Jungian psychology: wholeness is obtained by embracing the darkest shadow of death. Weighty dialogue about such philosophy fills the novel - this is not for the light-hearted.

Even if one disagrees with this philosophy, there has to be appreciation for LeGuin's seriousness and depth. Ged and Arren's quest never has overtones of a fantasy fun adventure as one might find with J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter, but it has a constant shadow of deep seriousness, perhaps even more so than J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings or C.S. Lewis' Narnia Chronicles. This deeper and more serious spin on fantasy in itself makes this series worth reading. The fantasy world and storyline are not as captivating or fun as one might expect from Tolkien, Lewis, or even Rowling and Robert Jordan, and so fans of these novels might well find the taste of LeGuin somewhat disappointing. Reviews of the fourth book of the series, Tenahu, suggest that this is a strongly feminist tale and a departure from the beauty of the first three novels, and is better left untouched. I think I'll close the pages on LeGuin for now, with The Farthest Shore being the most distant shore of her work for me. -GODLY GADFLY

"The Farthest Shore" may be the best of the Earthsea books, combining subtle, evocative prose with realistic characterization and a pair of equally important, entwined plotlines. Dragons, magic, wizards, and dozens of different islands are all entwined in an intriguing contrast between the young and the old, death and life.

Arren, prince of Anlad, comes to Roke to tell the wizards there dire news: Magic is seeping out of his country, where words no longer have power and spells are forgotten. The aged Archmage, Ged Sparrowhawk, sets off with the eager, sheltered young prince to find out what is draining the "wells of wizardry."

As they cross Earthsea, they find more difficulties, places where magic is draining away, the dragons are dueling, spells and songs are forgotten, and the dead are crossing over under the influence of a mysterious figure who is at the source of it all. Great changes are in store for both Arren and Ged before they can deal with the strange forces changing Earthsea...

It's undeniable that the original trilogy of Earthsea novels were superior to Le Guin's later Earthsea works, both in literary and storytelling terms. Le Guin's writing had clearly matured somewhat from the more formal manner of "Wizard of Earthsea," as here we have better insight into Arren's thoughts and feelings. The dialogue is also less formal, as we have more jokes, teasing, and an amusing scene where Arren and his "nuncle" Ged are playing around with accents and dialects.

It is still fairly formal; however, the villain of this piece evokes greater horror than did Ged's shadow in the first book. At the same time, deep poignancy is present in such scenes as the dead looking out at the living, and the old woman hysterically crying out her true name, because "there are no secrets, and there is no truth, and there is no death."

The relationship between the young, naive Arren and the more experienced, older Sparrowhawk is the underlying thread in this novel. Though Ged, to Arren, lessons and philosophies are revealed to the reader and spelled out in a way that will leave them thinking carefully. And Le Guin provides an intriguing contrast between age and youth: Ged's experience and wisdom are necessary as Arren knows virtually nothing about what could cause the crisis, while Arren's innocence and loyalty are necessary as a counterbalance.

Ged shows a weariness in this book not present before; his reflections on death and life seem to be connected to his greater age. Arren is an essentially good young man, very realistic in that he is not a spoiled brat, but has never been given the opportunity to do anything difficult and good before in his life. The supporting characters are rarely around long, and none develop the depth of those main two; though many references are made to the previous two books, especially the second, it is not necessary to have read them to understand this.

An entrancing fantasy epic and a thought-provoking look at life and death, this book may be the most fulfilling and well-made of Le Guin's many Earthsea books.

Whilst I read A WIZARD OF EARTHSEA and THE TOMBS OF ATUAN many times as a child and a teenager, I never read THE FARTHEST SHORE, though I suspect I began it and did not finish. This book is heavygoing, both in tone and subject matter, but utterly rewarding for the engaged reader.

The wizard Ged, hero of the earlier novels, but now much wearied by age, accompanies a young prince of Enlad, Arren, in a journey by sea and land into the dark places of Earthsea and the dark places of the soul. Magic and joy in life are being leeched from the land by a malignant being who has found the secret of immortality - at the cost of the denial and ultimate destruction of all life.

This novel is probably more explicit than any of le Guin's other novels in portraying her conviction that all serious fantasy is at heart about the journey through the strange foreign lands of the inner soul. The reader is drawn inexorably with Ged and Arren as they try to save Earthsea by travelling into the dark heart of mankind and grappling with the ultimate challenge to selfhood - acceptance of death. Fantasy, le Guin maintains, is not about escape from the self but escape into the self. This philosophy lays the foundation for her serious, thoughtful fantasy, which may disappoint some readers seeking no more than vicarious thrills through daring adventures.

The serene, Taoist philosophy permeating the essence of this novel probably has more significance for me now at 23 than it could have at 7 or 13. Yet this novel, though difficult, is still accessible to the perservering younger reader. I hope that for all readers THE FARTHEST SHORE can provide as fulfilling a reading experience as it did for me, and I heartily encourage older readers to seek out le Guin's critical writing on fantasy and on Earthsea (such as LANGUAGE OF THE NIGHT and EARTHSEA REVISITED), which are an enthralling read in themselves.

This is the third volume in Le Guin's Earthsea tetralogy (the last volume is "Tehanu: The Last Book of Earthsea"). This particular book won the 1973 National Book Award for Children's Books. And, certainly as a book designed for children it deserves five stars (although, I would guess I would award it four stars if I rated it solely as a book for adults). In this story, which takes place years after the events described in "The Tombs of Atuan," the wizard Sparrowhawk, also called Ged, and a young prince, Arren, go on a quest to discover why magic is disappearing from Earthsea and why people are loosing their will and direction. The world has lost its "balance" and the division between life and death has been broken.

As always, Le Guin delivers what you'd expect, a fantasy book of true literary quality. Unlike many of the emerging fantasy texts throughout the past 20 years or so, especially since the Harry Potter craze, The Earthsea books force the reader to wrestle with many of the same issues that we have to face as real people. Her first book in the series, A Wizard of Earthsea shows the inherent evil within us all, and the ability we have to overcome it only by facing it. The second book, The Tombs of Atuan, delineates the struggles surrounding pride and power. This book delves into the desire to pursue eternal life, thus interrupting the balance between life and nature, humans and the natural laws we're subject to just as much as anything else. The most interesting element that Le Guin unearths in her take on the concept of eternal life is that her characters, in their pursuit, lose their true identity, their name, and wash into oblivion and nothingness.

I was talking with a new co-worker about the kinds of books and movies that we're into, and she actually laughed at the fact that I love fantasy, saying that she isn't interested in anything in that genre because it's unrealistic and could never happen. She does, however, love romantic comedies, which in my opinion are easily as unrealistic if not more so because of their lighthearted and sometimes shallow treatment of relationships between men and women. Sure, I'm never going to ride a dragon or walk through a wardrobe (at least as far as I've experienced so far), but the universal truths exhumed in books like Ender's Game, The Lord of the Rings, or this series are much more accurate to our own human experiences. Long live good fantasy literature!

-Lindsey Miller, [...]

Young Prince Arren of Enlad, heir to the Principality of Morred, sails to Roke, the Isle of the Wise, to warn Ged that the world's magic is disappearing. Word had reached his kingdom from other points in Earthsea, and he and his father had begun to notice signs of this malaise in their own land. Sorcerers, mages, witches and chanters, no longer remember their spells, nor are they able to sing their songs. The names of things are on the verge of being forgotten. Wizards are being maimed and killed in some places. Men and women who have long depended on magic to enrich their lives, seem not to care at all anymore. Roke is "defended," invulnerable, protecting the Masters from harm, so the prince's warning is the first heard on the Island.

Ged, now the Archmage: the greatest wizard of all Earthsea; "the man who had capped the Black Well of Fundaur and won the ring of Erreth-Akbe from the Tombs of Atuan and built the deep founded sea wall of Nepp; the sailor who knew the seas from Astowell to Selidor; the only living Dragonlord," confers urgently with the other Masters. They know the Balance has been disrupted. Whatever balance remains, now resides in Roke when it should lie in the hands of a king. Eighteen years before, the Ring of the King's Rune was returned to its rightful place. This deed improved the world for a while, but it did not bring oneness. There has been no king on the high throne in Havnor for 800 years. Now a king must sit on the throne of Earthsea again, to wield the Sign of Peace and unite the lands and peoples. However, a prophecy must be fulfilled first: "He shall inherit my throne who has crossed the dark land living and come to the far shores of the day." Ged insists on taking action before any more discussion takes place about kings and future. He would go where the trouble is now, immediately, to find the source of the blight. He must find and close the hole in the world that is leeching out the light. Ged will take one companion with him, Arren.

As the two sail south and then west, they discover decay, decline, darkness, forgetfulness. Many people they encounter take drugs to numb, and to let the body be free of the mind. Others seem to have their minds' dimmed without using substances. Clearly, magic and meaning have been drained from the ports, towns, cities and countrysides of Earthsea, as has all sense of well-being and vigor from her people. The dead are mysteriously crossing over under the influence of a vile mysterious creature. Even Orm Embar, the powerful Dragon of Selidor, seeks help from Ged and Arren to rid the world of this insanity.

"The Farthest Shore," the final novel in the initial trilogy, is my favorite. Ged's and Arren's commitment to prevent their world from falling apart, is inspiring and often extremely moving. There is a theme of human development here, a sense of passing on the torch which reminds me of T. H. White's "Once and Future King," with Ged as Merlin, the mentor and tutor, guiding the young king toward his future. Arren is ascending to his power, moving towards his prime, while Ged makes the transition to old age, leaving behind his legacy. Both books focus on peace, unity and harmony.

Ms Le Guin examines the delicate balance between life and death. She focuses on the importance of death and how its inevitability makes life more meaningful. As with the first two books in the trilogy, her approach is influenced by eastern philosophy. The eternal cycle of life, death, the return of the body to the earth, and one's energy to the universe, is part of the natural world which maintains the equilibrium of our planet.

As always, the author's prose is exquisite.

JANA

This may be the best of the Earthsea books, combining subtle, evocative prose with realistic characterization and a pair of equally important, entwined plotlines. Dragons, magic, wizards, and dozens of different islands are all entwined in an intriguing contrast between the young and the old, death and life.

Arren, prince of Anlad, comes to Roke to tell the wizards there dire news: Magic is seeping out of his country, where words no longer have power and spells are forgotten. The aged Archmage, Ged Sparrowhawk, sets off with the eager, sheltered young prince to find out what is draining the "wells of wizardry."

As they cross Earthsea, they find more difficulties, places where magic is draining away, the dragons are dueling, spells and songs are forgotten, and the dead are crossing over under the influence of a mysterious figure who is at the source of it all. Great changes are in store for both Arren and Ged before they can deal with the strange forces changing Earthsea...

It's undeniable that the original trilogy of Earthsea novels were superior to Le Guin's later Earthsea works, both in literary and storytelling terms. Le Guin's writing had clearly matured somewhat from the more formal manner of "Wizard of Earthsea," as here we have better insight into Arren's thoughts and feelings. The dialogue is also less formal, as we have more jokes, teasing, and an amusing scene where Arren and his "nuncle" Ged are playing around with accents and dialects.

It is still fairly formal; however, the villain of this piece evokes greater horror than did Ged's shadow in the first book. At the same time, deep poignancy is present in such scenes as the dead looking out at the living, and the old woman hysterically crying out her true name, because "there are no secrets, and there is no truth, and there is no death."

The relationship between the young, naive Arren and the more experienced, older Sparrowhawk is the underlying thread in this novel. Though Ged, to Arren, lessons and philosophies are revealed to the reader and spelled out in a way that will leave them thinking carefully. And Le Guin provides an intriguing contrast between age and youth: Ged's experience and wisdom are necessary as Arren knows virtually nothing about what could cause the crisis, while Arren's innocence and loyalty are necessary as a counterbalance.

Ged shows a weariness in this book not present before; his reflections on death and life seem to be connected to his greater age. Arren is an essentially good young man, very realistic in that he is not a spoiled brat, but has never been given the opportunity to do anything difficult and good before in his life. The supporting characters are rarely around long, and none develop the depth of those main two; though many references are made to the previous two books, especially the second, it is not necessary to have read them to understand this.

An entrancing fantasy epic and a thought-provoking look at life and death, this book is a treat for readers of any age.