The Magicians by Lev Grossman

People, unspecified because I can’t remember who but nevertheless people I must respect because I listened to them, raved about this book. In fact they recommended the whole trilogy. So I was nearly going to buy it but got it from the library, just in case it wasn’t worth the investment. It WASN’T! Poorly written, blatantly derivative – at times I didn’t know whether I was in The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe or Harry Potter or The Hobbit and he even has a bloody QUESTING BEAST straight from TJ White’s Once and Future King in there – and just plain tedious. I ploughed on and on through this book, skimming great chunks of it, just to see it through. But really I don’t know why I bothered. It’s clearly aimed at the adolescent market, with all its clumsy attempts at sexual allusion and doing drugs and getting drunk and the difficulties with relationships between this group of schoolies. Maybe Grossman thought he was channeling Donna Tartt? Anyway, he’s making a fortune because it obviously appeals to someone. Just not me.