The Last Unicorn

I’ll admit, I approached *The Last Unicorn* expecting something saccharine—a nostalgic relic of ’80s fantasy animation. Instead, I got a story that’s as sharp as it is sorrowful, a fairy tale that refuses to flinch from the ugliness of human (and unicorn) nature. Beagle’s writing is the star here: his dialogue snaps with wit, his descriptions are lush but never purple, and his themes—loneliness, the fear of irrelevance, the way love can feel like a trap—hit harder than any sword or spell. The audiobook’s narration is mostly excellent, though I’ll say Ragland’s delivery of Schmendrick the Magician occasionally veers into *too* much gruff charm, undercutting the character’s deeper insecurities. Corbett, on the other hand, nails the unicorn’s voice—a mix of otherworldly serenity and growing despair that makes her transformation one of the most heartbreaking arcs I’ve heard in fantasy. The pacing is where this audiobook truly shines. At just over seven hours, it never drags, yet it gives each moment room to breathe. The production is clean, with no distracting sound effects or overdone accents, letting the text’s own music take center stage. That said, the abrupt shifts between whimsy and existential dread might not land for listeners craving a straightforward adventure. This is a story that demands you meet it halfway, that rewards patience with lines so beautiful they’ll make you pause mid-commute just to replay them. If you’re looking for escapism with teeth—or a fantasy that feels like it was written for adults who still believe in magic, but know its price—this is your audiobook.