For the first 100 pages I thought there was no way I’d ever finish this book. (And I HATE not finishing books.) The Eye of the World falls victim to the “introduce main character in peaceful village, spend wayyyyyy too long in said peaceful village before main character is forced to flee and the the story actually begins” trope that plagues fantasy novels. But yesterday I rushed to the store, bought a copy, shoved it in my younger brother’s hands and practically begged him to read it. So clearly I had a change of heart. At around the 200th page I was sucked in, unable to put the book down, and constantly wondering what was going to happen next to Rand, Moraine and crew. At this point I realized what countless people have realized before me: There’s Nothing Better Than Fantasy for Escapism.
Fantasy is a genre I've always flirted with from a distance, reading books by authors that claimed Tolkien as a muse but whose works didn't clock in as 800 page behemoths. I've read “The Hobbit,” but sadly never managed to work my way through “The Lord of the Rings” despite my undying love for the movies and fondness for anything with elves in it. With the exception of the A Song of Ice and Fire books, I would classify “The Eye of the World” as the first hardcore epic fantasy I've ever read. And I loved it.
My life is not filled with terrifying Myrddraals and beautiful Aes Sedai, but in getting to step into a completely new world, it’s easier to leave the problems in mine behind. And sometimes, when work is crazy, and school is hard, and my romantic life seems non-existent, that’s exactly what I want. So I’m breathless with excitement at diving right back into Robert Jordan’s amazing world in book two The Great Hunt.
P.S. I have to confess that I find Rand slightly boring. #TeamPerrin
