When I cracked open The Magicians and was introduced to Quentin Coldwater, an extraordinarily privileged white boy who nonetheless felt short shifted and shat upon by the universe because his friend Julia wouldn't sleep with him, I was a little appalled. This was going to be my companion for the next 402 pages? But it was the next book in my Book Club and there was no escaping it. I'd have to read this book if it was the last thing I did.

And I am so glad I did because this might be one of the most satisfying, thoughtful reads of my year. I don't think I've read two books in the past decade where the author invested so much of the plot on such a genuinely flawed character - not romantically flawed, or 'flawed but always stands up as hero in the end' but just a flawed, sometimes unpleasant human who finds themselves at the center of great events.

Lev Grossman's Quentin Coldwater has an incredibly gifted life: well off parents who love him, genius IQ he's never stretched the limits of, friends who care for him, but it is all given to him. His nature isn't self starting and he has no life experience to show him how to get what he wants in those very rare circumstances where it doesn't just fall into his lap. Thus every achievement is accidental and every mistake is someone else's fault/an act of god. He remains adrift, unable to understand why he is happy or sad, and thus unable to understand his role in changing those states.

When drawn into the classic portal fantasy elements of the book, intentionally reminiscent of Narnia and Oz among others, you can't expect the Lucy/Dorothy version. You're getting the Eustace from Voyage of the Dawn Treader version, the Wizard Behind The Curtain version. The point of view of the one who isn't able to unfetter themselves from their issues, who wasn't happy before they came to the magical land and for whom this new world is not a balm but a damaging and painful addiction.