Re-reading Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy feels like coming home

I’m not normally much of one for re-reading books. There’s so many books teetering on my to-be-read pile that there’s always something new waiting in the wings to delve into. And yet, over the last few weeks I’ve found myself immersed once again in Robin Hobb’s fantasy series The Farseer Trilogy, devouring them back-to-back and losing myself in Fitz’s story. They follow his journey from boyhood to becoming an adult, with a healthy dose of political intrigue, murders, magic and beasts (of all sorts including dogs, horses, dragons, and probably the star of the series, a wolf).

It’s been a long time since I’d read them, so long the details had escaped my mind although I remembered absolutely loving them when I was younger. And I wasn’t disappointed the second time around. It turns out they’re still the sort of books I’ll go to bed early to start reading. The sort of books that keep me reading long after I should have fallen asleep at night. The sort of books that infect my dreams with a world so vivid it’s nearly real.

But what surprised me was how comforting they were to read. They connected me with my memories from when I was younger, spoke to a part of my mind from all those years ago that did not have the cares of age and the passing years to concern it. It felt like the comfort of hot soup and heavy blankets after a family outing on bonfire night. It felt, in a strange way, like coming home.

So absolutely, there’s no doubt that I’d recommend Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy to anyone who enjoys fantasy, as they’re skilfully crafted and hugely engaging (and if you’re new to Hobb’s work and enjoy them then you’re in for a real treat because she has an extensive range of other fantasy novels for you to dig your teeth into). But what I really came here to say was; if you need a cosy pick-me-up then I highly recommend digging out a book you loved as a child, because for me perhaps it’s the closest thing to time travel that I’ve found. Because for the hours my head was lost in those books, it was lost there with the child I was when I read them the first time around. And sometimes that is just what you need.