At the heart of this book, there is a devastatingly relatable story of human persistence in the face of personal grief, depression, and the harshness of the real world. Unfortunately, this isn't the story of our protagonist, Quentin Coldwater, who had a magical world dropped into his lap and has been complaining about it ever since. 
 The reason this book shines in comparison to the first Magician's book is the fact that we get a big majority of the book told to us from the perspective of Julia, Quentin ex-schoolmate and rejectee from the magical school that gave Quentin his start. I'm not sure if it's intentional on the part of Grossman, but the contrast between the two figures starkly illustrates what having a privileged start in life can give you. Julia is working from scraps and building up skills while Quentin is whining about his magical textbooks and skilled instructors. They both make it to Fillory, but it's the way they got there that color their experience of the place. 
 Julia's story is also one of the most accurate depictions of depression (as I personally experience it) that I've ever read in fiction. Her journey in the book feels intimate and real and devastating. What happens to her along the way is also interesting, particularly (view spoiler)[the examination of local Gods and the magical scene that exists where there are no magical texts to study. (hide spoiler)] For someone like me, a depressive with no connection to the Ivy League whatsoever, Julia's magical world seems so much more accessible and possible than Quentin's. 
 The actual plot happening in the main part of the book isn't all that interesting. A rather straightforward quest uncovers a larger problem that's solved in a rather straightforward way. There are a couple hiccups along the way, but each time a problem arises, a solution or help seems to drop right into Quentin's lap. Quentin despairs and nearly gives up at each obstacle. It's chance, not his character, that allows him and the plot to continue. It's only at the end of the book that we see him making a choice of any real consequence. 
 Maybe I should cut Quentin a bit of a break. He's not entirely unaware of the privilege he has and since The Magicians he's managed to grow up a little bit. A little. And his persistent quest for an experience that feels like a children's fantasy novel come to life (while, admittedly, living in a children's fantasy novel come to life) isn't entirely unrelatable. But I can't help wondering what this book would have looked like without him. What would have happened if Julia had brought her magical cohorts to Fillory instead of joining Quentin's crew? It's an interesting thought, but one that I doubt Grossman will ever explore.