The Name of the Wind (Kingkiller Chronicles, Bk 1)
Author:
Genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
Author:
Genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
Helpful Score: 1
There are very few fantasy novels (and even fewer first fantasy novels) that can boast four full pages of rave reviews from both other authors and from media sources such as the San Francisco Chronicle, Publisher's Weekly, and Locus. I picked it up with some trepidation, as I have had no desire to read any of the novels or authors it is compared to (everyone and everything from Robert Jordan to the Harry Potter novels, George R. R. Martin to (of course) the Lord of the Rings)(well, I've read the LotR, but none of the others). It is a tome, to be sure, and only part one of three, which also was cause for concern, because there is little that annoys me more in fantasy today than the cliffhanger ending.
But by 50 pages in, very shortly after Chronicler gets Kvothe to begin his tale, I began to hope that the novel really was as good as everyone else seemed to think. I was immediately drawn to the characters and enamored of the Kvothe's narrative style. There were quite a few excellent images sprinkled daintily throughout the prose, and if some of the more resonant were unfortunately belabored, that was a minor quibble for a very worthy first book.
I ran into a little trouble when Kvothe arrived at University, because far too many characters were introduced all at once, and Rothfuss never gave most of them enough distinguishing characteristics for me to tell them apart. Making things more difficult, the publisher (shockingly!) did not include a list of characters (dramatis personae, if you will) at the front of the book as is becoming fairly common in today's epic fantasy. But still, the story moved briskly, the moments of danger were rendered well enough that my heart raced, and I was surprised into laughing out loud at just the right moments.
And yet, sometime around 2/3 of the way through, Rothfuss lost me. Perhaps it was that for the 80th time, Kvothe chose not to tell any of his masters any piece of the reasons he behaved the way he did. I can not believe that there was not one who would have reached a hand out to help him, especially when his most pressing need throughout the novel was ready cash. It could not be pride, for he had been a beggar and had never let pride get in the way of getting what he wanted before. It is possible that the world Rothfuss has created is so mean that no one would reach out a hand in that fashion, and that Kvothe knows that; there is even some evidence to that effect in the text, for that attitude would suit the followers of Tehlu. But if that is the Rothfuss' world, I do not know that I want to spend any more time in it. A world that cold may very well go to hell with my blessing.
Still, despite losing my affection in that way, the story moved on briskly. As I expected, it did not have an ending, and that was just as frustrating as it always is, but there was a bit of grace in the final scene between Bast and the Chronicler, and the image of silence on the final page was arresting. Rothfuss has as good an ear for the mood of his audience as any fine bard, and his "to be continued" was handled as well as it possibly could have been. I am left wanting more, and I certainly will read the next book.
But by 50 pages in, very shortly after Chronicler gets Kvothe to begin his tale, I began to hope that the novel really was as good as everyone else seemed to think. I was immediately drawn to the characters and enamored of the Kvothe's narrative style. There were quite a few excellent images sprinkled daintily throughout the prose, and if some of the more resonant were unfortunately belabored, that was a minor quibble for a very worthy first book.
I ran into a little trouble when Kvothe arrived at University, because far too many characters were introduced all at once, and Rothfuss never gave most of them enough distinguishing characteristics for me to tell them apart. Making things more difficult, the publisher (shockingly!) did not include a list of characters (dramatis personae, if you will) at the front of the book as is becoming fairly common in today's epic fantasy. But still, the story moved briskly, the moments of danger were rendered well enough that my heart raced, and I was surprised into laughing out loud at just the right moments.
And yet, sometime around 2/3 of the way through, Rothfuss lost me. Perhaps it was that for the 80th time, Kvothe chose not to tell any of his masters any piece of the reasons he behaved the way he did. I can not believe that there was not one who would have reached a hand out to help him, especially when his most pressing need throughout the novel was ready cash. It could not be pride, for he had been a beggar and had never let pride get in the way of getting what he wanted before. It is possible that the world Rothfuss has created is so mean that no one would reach out a hand in that fashion, and that Kvothe knows that; there is even some evidence to that effect in the text, for that attitude would suit the followers of Tehlu. But if that is the Rothfuss' world, I do not know that I want to spend any more time in it. A world that cold may very well go to hell with my blessing.
Still, despite losing my affection in that way, the story moved on briskly. As I expected, it did not have an ending, and that was just as frustrating as it always is, but there was a bit of grace in the final scene between Bast and the Chronicler, and the image of silence on the final page was arresting. Rothfuss has as good an ear for the mood of his audience as any fine bard, and his "to be continued" was handled as well as it possibly could have been. I am left wanting more, and I certainly will read the next book.
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