After finishing Shrinkage, by Bryan Bishop, I started The Magician's Land: A Novel, by Lev Grossman on March 4th. This took me a while to work through - I finished it on April 16. This is the 3rd book in the Magician's series. Book 1 is The Magicians: A Novel and Book 2 is The Magician King: A Novel. I read books 1 and 2 some time ago. The husband and I went to a SF in SF (Science Fiction in San Francisco) event and heard Lev Grossman speak in July 2012. The question of the evening for Lev was whether he would be writing a sequel to Book 2. He told the audience he was working on it - and finally it came out. He even signed my copy of Book 2. He was a cool dude. Incidentally, the other speaker that night was pretty cool too - S. G. Browne who wrote Lucky Bastard, a fun, quirky book set in San Francisco (he signed the husband's copy of that book).
How can I describe the Magicians series of books - it is sort of like an adult Harry Potter where magically inclined young adults are found and "auditioned / tested" for admittance into Brakebills, a magic school. Those who pass their test are admitted to this school located in New York - but hidden from non-magical people by magical charms and spells. A group of students there find a magical mysterious land called Fillory - a land that they read about in childhood books and thought was just fictional. They discover that Fillory exists, and they are it's new kings and queens.
All kids of shit goes down in Books 1 and 2, and Book 3 picks up with Quentin teaching at Brakebills and saving one of the Brakebills students, Plum, from a flaming blue Niffin named Alice. Alice used to be human, and used to be Quentin's girlfriend. A Niffin is kind of like the Phoenix from Xmen - a human/non-human/monster/non-monster/flying/flaming being - except Niffins are blue.
"... her body had burned, but the essence of Alice was in there somewhere, the Alice he knew, trapped inside that toxic blue flame like a fly in amber. He'd recognized her, the old Alice, the one he used to love, twisted and distorted but real, and he couldn't leave her there. If there was some way to get her out, he would find it."
Quentin finds himself embarking on an unknown adventure with Plum and some other magical misfits at the request of a talking bird. Quentin isn't sure why the others were doing it, but he would stop at nothing to get Alice back and to do that, he needed money, and this adventured promised a large sum of money if completed successfully. None of them know what the bird wants or what the bird's endgame is, but all of the misfit magicians are up for the adventure and challenge (and the money).
Some really cool stuff goes down. Plum and Quentin go looking for some advice from one of their former Brakebills teachers at Brakebills South - in the Antarctic. To get there, they fly on a plane part of the way to a small town in Tierra del Fuego, then decide to turn themselves into whales to swim the rest of the way.
"... Quentin and Plum were magicians, so they waited until midnight, then cast spells on their shoes and hiked out onto the channel on foot. It was tricky at first, they made it out through the mercifully light surf and got used to the rhythm of the swells. It was only their shoes that were buoyant, so if they fell over they'd get wet like anybody else... Quentin took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. It was rare for magicians to kill themselves with their own magic, but stories that ended that way usually began by doing something like this... Quentin braced himself. Based on his memory of the goose transformation back at Brakebills he was pretty sure this was going to be really unpleasant. He took a deep breath, held up his hands, and made a gentle downbeat, like he was cueing the start of a Mahler symphony. It began. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad... The only real moment of panic came when he toppled forward into the water and went under. His human instincts told him he was about to freeze or drown or both, but he did neither. The water was neither warm nor cold - it was nothing. It was like air. He did utter some truly epic, booming whale-sneezes before his blowhole-based respiratory system got going. But even that was kind of enjoyable. And then everything was still. He was hanging in the void, neutrally buoyant, twenty feet below the surface. He was a blue whale... Quentin didn't know when he'd ever felt so calm... Once they cleared Tierra del Fuego Quentin's sensorium expanded hugely. His world became enormous."
Grossman does a fantastic job writing about Quentin's and Plum's experiences as whales - oh how I wish I could experience that... (side note: I scuba dive, and once on a dive with my brother in Hawaii, we were diving the back wall of Molokini Crater late in December, and we heard the migrating whales singing when we were probably about 70-80 feet under water - it was MAGICAL).
All kinds of magical shit goes down - Grossman goes between what is happening with Quentin and Plum on earth, and what is happening with the others who are in Fillory. Janet is riding on a hippogriff high above a gigantic free-for-all-melee involving all kinds of magical and talking creatures:
"For a minute it looked like the centaurs were going to make the difference, but then boom: a spearhead of unicorns rammed into the side of their formation. Jesus. Janet had to turn away. You only had to see a unicorn lay open the side of a centaur once, the ribcage flashing white when the ripped skin flopped down, to swear a mighty oath never to fuck with or even look at another unicorn again. I'm putting down the hearts and fluffy clouds and backing away slowly. Don't want any trouble here. You can have all the rainbows. It was - viewed from a certain detached, clinical angle - like Fillory was playing chess with itself. A band of minotaurs straggled up, panting, having been outdistanced by the centaurs but plainly on their side. But just as they did flocks of griffins and pegasi began crisscrossing the battle space from above, kicking and raking and tearing. Actually the pegasi appeared to be worth fuck-all from an offensive perspective - their little hooves were too light and delicate to do much damage to anybody, and they were too fussy to beat anybody with their wings the way a swan might. But still, total respect to them for showing up. And what did it matter because the griffins were cleaning house. Jesus, those guys were like flying tanks. Beaks and claws. Built for war."
Um, yeah, don't mess with the unicorns.
This book has a satisfying ending. But, of course, it is an ending that is totally open to another book in this series. We'll just have to wait and see.
So, if you like books about magic, are looking for something more to read after Harry Potter, pick up this series. You'll probably enjoy it!
Now - on to the first book in a series my 12-year-old nephew is reading: The Alchemyst: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel by Michael Scott. Let's see what has got Alex so excited!
So, I am a little backed up on my book blogging - so tonight is a double post. After finishing 61 Hours, by Lee Child, the Husband gave me Shrinkage by Bryan Bishop. This is another of the books that he thinks will give me an insight into him and his life. I started Shrinkage on February 1 and finished it this morning, February 21. The Husband has given me a few other books to read that he thinks give me insight into who he is: The Fault In Our Stars, Angry Black White Boy, and now Shrinkage.
The Husband is a huge fan of Adam Carolla, and Bryan Bishop (aka Bald Bryan) is a part of Carolla's podcast. Bishop is also a cancer fighter/survivor just like the Husband. The Husband is a 3-time cancer survivor, and is very involved in patient advocacy and the cancer world (he is a facilitator for a local young adult cancer support group for cancer fighters and caregivers). He gives a lot of his time and energy to this cause, and thought this book could give me some additional insight into his life's story and how/why he behaves and reacts certain ways in certain situations.
Bishop has brain cancer - a tumor - that greatly impacted his life. This book details the trials and travails of his ordeal - all while he is in the process of marrying the love of his life, Christie. You hear about cancer all the time, but these first person narratives of how life really is when dealing with cancer are all the more insightful. I think non-cancer-affected people think they can imagine how horrible an ordeal it is, but they (and me) have no idea of what it is really like. Bishop does a great job of detailing (yes, all of the gory details - including crapping himself and having Christie clean him up) everything - the good, the bad, the hopeless, the miraculous.
Cancer fucking sucks - I am hard pressed to think of anyone that I know who hasn't been touched by cancer in some way (whether as a person diagnosed with cancer or as a caregiver or as a friend or relative of someone who has or had cancer). Too many people have had to deal with this disease and the devastation it can leave in its wake. Thankfully (THANKFULLY), the Husband is happy and healthy now, and thankfully my dad survived his cancer, thankfully my good friend K. survived her cancer. New people are diagnosed every single day. I learned recently via FaceBook that an acquaintance who is basically my age was just diagnosed with cervical cancer. It is everywhere.
But what do we, as non-cancer diagnosed people really know about what it is like to go through this ordeal? We know nothing. I think it is difficult for those with a cancer diagnosis to really talk about it - they lived it, and probably don't want to relive it by talking about it all the time. So books like Bishop's can really help us gain more insight into the hell and torture people have gone through. A few times when I talked with my friend K. about her cancer, she ended up in tears, and never really opened up about anything, not that I really expected her to. The last time this happened was about a year or so ago and we were out to dinner to catch up. K. and I used to work together and see each other regularly - but through job changes, divorces, marriages, and moves, we didn't see each other quite so often. At this meeting, over dinner we were catching up and talking about things. She asked how the Husband was and I mentioned that he was going to a summer camp for young adult cancer fighters and survivors for kayaking, I asked if she was interested in anything like that or if she had sought out any support groups or anything when she was going through treatment. She hadn't. I told her she deserved to have an outlet to talk about things with like-minded people - at this point she cried a little. I told her it seemed to me that she went through treatment without really going through treatment - she worked the whole time, didn't take a day off. She went through life like nothing was wrong. Of course, that is her prerogative, but it seems to me that going through something like that, that you might need a little help and that there are a lot of places that could help her. She agreed, and then we promptly dropped the subject. K. is a very strong woman working in a male-dominated field and I think she feels she can't show her vulnerabilities out of fear of being seen as weak.
Bishop details the help he needed throughout his book - as his treatment went on (radiation and chemotherapy), his life steadily went downhill - his walking suffered, his speech suffered, he was exhausted, he needed full time care and couldn't be left alone. At one point he couldn't walk, he was a fall risk, and could barely speak. This was humbling for him because he relied on Christie 100% to help him with literally everything. His treatment was rough, and his recovery from treatment was even rougher. Caring for Bishop was extremely difficult for Christie as well - she ended up hospitalized for several days with colitis induced by exhaustion and stress.
In one particular chapter, Bishop wrote about how his cancer and treatment affected his relationship with his parents. This gave me a lot of insight into the Husband's relationship with his parents, and also with me. Bishop wrote about how he had to filter what he told his parents about his treatments, his doctor appointments, his test results, and his recovery. He didn't outright lie to them, but also wasn't 100% honest with him either. This has been something that the Husband and I have talked about a lot relative to his doctor appointments and his health. He doesn't want to tell me anything until there is something to tell because he doesn't want me to worry. I don't want to be kept in the dark unless I am completely left in the dark. I know that may not make complete sense - here's an example. If the Husband tells me he has a doctor appointment to check on one thing or the other, and then when I ask him about the appointment and he is vague in his response, I know he is keeping something from me and want to know what it is. He'll be evasive and non-specific in how he answers my questions about the test result or follow-up, then I know or imagine something is worse then he is telling me. So when I say it would be better for me to be completely in the dark - I mean that if he is having an appointment for something then if he can't or won't share it all with me then I'd want him to share nothing with me (not even tell me about the appointment) until there is something to share - like a clean bill of health or something wrong. This is an ongoing discussion we have - how much he should tell me and when. It is a fine line between outright lying to me and keeping me in the dark until there is something to tell.
After reading books like Bishop's, I think I might "get it" a tiny little bit more. I also think I have a tiny bit more of an understanding of how and why the Husband is the way he is, about why he panics a little before every appointment with his doctors, about why he is diligent with his health maintenance, and about why he might want to keep me in the dark. Cancer is a big, evil, scary, terror-inducing thing, and why expose more people than absolutely necessary to how horrific it really is? But from a caregiver / loved-one point of view, we just want to make things a little nicer, easier, less horrific for those dealing with it. I think it is a double-edged sword and a lose-lose situation - the person with cancer doesn't want to inflict their hell on anyone else so retreats into their own private hell. And loved ones want to ease the situation for the person with cancer so they smother the person with love and attention. As you can imagine, things can spiral downhill from there.
Where is the happy medium? I think that after reading Bishop's book and knowing the Husband and his history, those in the loved-one / care giver role need to take direction from the person with cancer - let that person tell you what they need, how and when they need it, and when they need you to leave them alone. I imagine there is a tremendous amount of contemplation and thought processing going on and they need space to do it in. They know we love them and are there for them, but they need to be in the driver's seat and steer the car towards what they need at that particular time and place. We have no real idea of what they are going through so we need to leave it to them to tell us in their own way and in their own time. Easier said then done.
This book is funny and sad, insightful and honest. I'm glad I read it, and I'm glad the Husband shared it with me. When I finished it this morning, we had a short talk about the book and what I took away from it. Then we kissed and got up to start our day.
ps - after the Husband read this before I published it, he pulled out his phone and told me about his dentist appointment next week, his bi-annual skin check in April, all with a sly little grin and laugh on his face. I still love him.
