I just finished Deathless by Catherynne Valente. Only one other time has a reading experience made me so utterly depressed that I never wanted to read another fantasy oriented book ever again. That was The Magicians/The Magician King by Lev Grossman. I'm not saying that these are bad books. On the contrary, all three of these books are very good - quite breathtaking, nearly impossible to put down, and so beautiful at times that reading them hurts. It's the hurting part that got me though, because these books still hurt (or will hurt) long after the reading experience is over.
|I would fall for this.|
|"Go to your room and think about how shitty your mutant power is."|
Marya and Quentin make me so very sad. There is a tiny part of me who still wishes to fall into a fantasy world. I don't know if I'll ever stop looking for magic, even though I'm way beyond puberty - the time when magic generally shows itself. For those who don't read fantasy, think of Marya and Quentin having won the lottery and then setting all the money on fire. These books are dangerous. They are beautiful and well written and worth reading if you aren't as wrapped up in the idea of a different reality as I am. But for me, they're also toxic and I almost wish I had never read them. That feels like a terrible thing to write. Maybe it is, but it's true. They just plain hit too close to home.