I came across this book by a complete accident. It was lying on the "sale" section in my university bookstore where I just happened to walk into with a friend who was looking for some trivial office things. $1.00, that was all it cost. I did not have even a cent, and I was/am still pretty broke. But I could not tear my eyes from it. Partly because of the cover, partly because of the price, and above all, because of the title. I borrowed my friend that $1 and took the book, without knowing anything at all what the book was gonna be like. I have this disturbing habit of reading reviews quite carefully, taking recommendation pretty seriously, before reading any book. And yet I took that risk.
Now when I reflect upon it, I realize it was not just mere accident. I was in a crisis around that time (I did not realize that fact until now). I was trying to escape, well, into my mind, into books, into whatever. "Magic" and fantasy seemed perfect.
But then The Magicians
is not an escape route. Not at all. It is a slap. Wake up. Something like that.
I woke. And cried. (Oh, figuratively)
That was the most valuable $1. Maybe sometimes we should just wander around and take some random risk. I would never have read The Magicians
if I had relied on Goodreads only (come on, 3.44/5???). Who knows?
P.S: Good wakeup call. But I'm too afraid of that sad feeling again to pick up the second installment. Tsk