I love a good trilogy, me. On Sunday, I finished Wideacre,
a glorious bodice-ripper of a family saga, full of lace and velvet and revolting peasantry and people gasping in parlours - and attics, for quite different reasons. (No, I’m not telling you, you’ll have to read it for yourself.) And one of the best things was that, when I got to the end, I didn’t have to wonder What Happened Next because I could go straight to my shelf and pluck down The Favoured Child. Which I will follow, in due course, with Meridon.
I’m not sure whether my love of three-books-in-a-row is just another manifestation of my big book fetish: there’s definitely something about having the feeling of living properly in another world.
One of my favourite reading experiences ever was Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials, the end of which saw me sobbing my heart out in Carluxccio’s in Kingston, not just for the end of the story – no! no! let there be love! – but for the loss of these books that had kept me breathless and enchanted for weeks.
Maybe it’s not so much the trilogies that are special, as any series, and the opportunity to engage long-term. Margi, a frequent commenter here, has written a bit-more-than-a-trilogy for older children, about a squirrel called Urchin who lives on the isle of Mistmantle, and those books are enchanting and beautiful and come highly recommended, especially for those of you who are still lucky enough to read to small people on a regular basis.
What trilogies/series do you recommend? Has anyone got through Lord Of The Rings? I must admit that ‘The Hobbit’ pretty much finished me, so I put that particular trilogy on the ‘life’s too short’ shelf.