Loneliness has a sound. The beating of the heart. An intolerable toll echoing in the emptiness present within as well as outside of us, that with each pulse produces a pang followed by an icy shiver that continuously touches and awakens the most painful exposed nerves of our soul: anger, frustration, self-pity, but above all fear; the overwhelming and inhuman terror that leads us to believe we are trapped in a devastating vice, destined never to end.
The pen of fantasy writer Robin Hobb (the second pseudonym of the American Margaret Astrid Lindholm Ogden) speaks to us precisely of this: marginalization, indifference, intolerance, all directed towards a boy, Fitz, born from the illegitimate relationship between the heir of the royal house of the Lungvista, who disappeared after renouncing succession, and an unknown woman from the Mountain Kingdom, both responsible for passing on dangerous hereditary traits to their son, on one hand blessed with the powers of the "Skill," the ability of the sovereigns to influence events and be aware of others' thoughts through deep concentration, and on the other hand cursed with the "Wit," a faculty feared and punished with the death penalty, consisting of the ability to communicate with the animal world and merge with it, but risking in this way losing one's humanity.
The young man therefore finds himself alone, in a time of war, at the court of Buckkeep, plagued by the raids of the mysterious Red Ships pirates, with no point of reference except for the chief stablemaster Burrich, once a friend and right-hand man of his father, and the mysterious Chade, a silent assassin who, by King Shrewd's will, will introduce the orphan to the techniques and secrets of his dark craft.
The hostility of the place where he finds himself chained is embodied in every corner of the castle, in the servants' comments, in the cavalries' disdainful superiority, in the elusive presence of the thoughtful Prince Verity, in the contempt of the younger Prince Regal, in the hatred and sadism of the Skillmaster Galen, and in the ambiguity of the Fool, an enigmatic figure who, under jesters' clothes, hides an identity and a nature never fully revealed.
Among uncertainties, intrigues, murders, promises, and hopes, the life of a teenager will unfold, seeing his existence already decided and traced by the lines of his own blood, he will be consumed by the indecision between remaining loyal to his dynasty, renouncing free will, or following his heart, treading a dark and changeable path but undeniably free.
Despite Robin's bad habit of often managing to surprise, deceiving with double meanings, unsaid phrases, barely hinted secrets, throwing sand in our eyes at every minimal opportunity, she also knows when it is time to be clear and precise, describing scenes and situations in a sober and elegant manner, which become so concrete, generating an astonishing identification between the reader and Fitz's disoriented and restless soul. Through his gaze, we can thus orient ourselves in this highly detailed medieval-flavored setting and clearly perceive a reality that doesn't draw from ancient and improbable legends but sinks its roots in the folklore and customs of that era which, despite its harshness and cruelty, continues even today to fascinate and captivate the minds of thousands of individuals.
We are therefore not faced with a landscape occupied by powerful demons, legendary knights, long-bearded wizards, white elves, and the like, but we are simply immersed in the concerns of a confused and inexperienced protagonist, who desperately seeks a place of belonging, someone to trust, a shoulder to lean on in order to achieve a state that we all would probably like to obtain: Not to be alone.
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