Stop it, Robin Hobb. (I’d say Megan Lindholm, but I’m sure that by now, the jig is most definitely up.)
A little background on this book first. I got it last year at WesterCon and had Robin sign it for me. She wrote “My tourist guide to Seattle!” on the flap. I was down in Portland this past weekend, so I thought I’d finally pick this up to read on the bus.
Wizard of the Pigeons is about a homeless wizard living in Seattle, and his wanderings through which we experience the city. Let me just say that I haven’t been so connected to a character in a long, long time.
Robin Hobb—unlike any other—brings a scene to life. It’s the perfect weave of physical and emotional description that makes your own five senses seem woefully inadequate. I’ve been to Seattle many times, but there are places that I will never look at the same again based on the images Hobb has now seared into my mind (in a good way). If you’ve never thought that a city could be alive, give this book a shot and see if it can’t change your mind.
Overall, I wasn’t too impressed with the overarching story, but the characters more than made up for it. Recommended for those that already love Hobb’s other works and her style of writing, though I’ll warn you that it is challenging. Think of it as a cult novel that only Hobb’s fanboy/fangirls will appreciate. A point of personal pride to try and read everything she’s ever published.
To Traci’s point, agreed that this book doesn’t have a point. Which is part of the reason I love this author. There isn’t always a point. Sometimes it is just to enjoy a scene or a moment and live in the now.