I wanted to like this book so much. Instead, I found the first half tearfully tedious and the second half cringe worthy.
Quentin Coldwater was such a flat and unlikable character. He had no development, no redeeming qualities, and I couldn’t give two shits about his life. Lev Grossman clearly wanted The Magicians to be some groundbreaking crossover where Holden Caulfield goes to Hogwarts and then goes to Narnia.
Grossman also decided it would be a good idea to insert a paragraph where Quentin determines Fen is a lesbian based solely on her clothing and appearance. No. Just stop.
All the secondary characters were indistinguishable from one another and I have already forgotten most of their names even though I finished the novel just a few weeks ago. Underdeveloped characters could have possibly been overlooked if the story itself was good (sometimes you only get one or the other and it can still be an enjoyable book). However, nothing really happened.
Quentin is all “I’m a wizard, bitches,” spends 250 pages at Brakebills College for Magical Pedagogy, and then is all “I’m going to Narnia, bitches.”
That’s it. That’s the plot.
Martin Chatwin’s ‘story’ was the only semi-interesting thing in this book. It would have been nice to see his back story interspersed throughout the book, switching perspectives from Quentin and Martin, adding some sort of mystery and intrigue to an otherwise boring story.
Sadly, I will not keep reading the series and will donate the books to a charity shop.