Review: The Name of the Wind

The Name of the Wind
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

My introduction to Patrick Rothfuss was his fantastic short story, “The Lightning Tree,” in the Rogues anthology (2014). I was immediately hooked by both his world, where the fantasy elements are deliciously subtle, and his writing style. The story was beautiful and left me wanting to learn more about this world. I was thrilled to learn that he has a whole series of books revolving around the characters and setting.

There was much that I found compelling with the first novel in this series. I particularly liked the frame story which maintained some of the languid pace that I enjoyed in the short story. There were elements of the primary narrative that I also enjoyed: traveling minstrels, fantasy elements fading into myth, hints of darker realities. I continue to appreciate the setting, particularly the university library, the Underthing, a whole town devoted to the arts, and layers of history both physically present in the architecture and landscape, and figuratively present in layered stories and songs. Some surprising characters, especially Devi the moneylender, were fun to get to know. And I like the style of magic—it felt appropriate to the setting, the in-story fluff was plausible, and, at its best, it evoked a genuine sense of mystery and awe.

Oddly, though I began the book loving the slow pace, which felt luxurious, I came to resent it later on. I enjoy a story that takes its time, but not if it starts feeling predictable or like I’m being strung along. In particular, the frame story makes it clear that Kvothe (our hero and narrator) just wants to nail down the essential elements, yet he meanders all over the place. Yeah yeah yeah, I know he’s going to screw things up with the girl again. Let’s get on with it. And he’s going to have umpteen run-ins with the snooty rich kid at the university. Yawn. And one-dimensional Professor Snape-I-mean-Hemme? Either breathe life into him or find a better obstacle.

In a similar vein, I couldn’t quite buy into the challenges Kvothe faced. How could this brilliant, talented prodigy not figure out a way to earn a living? I get it that the rich kid scared off all the noble patrons, but if he was 10% the minstrel that the story implies that he was, I’d think he could do a lot better than simply getting an attic room at the inn. He could have earned enough through busking alone. His financial plight kept the tension up, but it was forced. I kept waiting for him to get his bloody act together.

In general Kvothe’s level of obtuseness appeared to be in service to the plot. Most of the time he was a super-genius, but then he would suddenly become dumb as a stump. Of course real people are brilliant in some areas and have blind spots, but Kvothe is wildly inconsistent. With “magic,” for example, he usually runs circles around his classmates, but he becomes braindead when he talks to Master Elodin. For example, he’s fully aware that Elodin has the keys to the Real Magic that he’s after, but he describes him as a loony bin: “He talks in circles about names and words and power. It sounds good while he’s saying it. But it doesn’t really mean anything.” Really? Why not apply yourself to figure out what Elodin is talking about, like you do most of the time? Besides, as someone as steeped in folklore as Kvothe, who often says things like, “that’s how this would go if it were a story…,” I’d think he’d recognize the absent-minded professor archetype.

I’m rounding down to three stars, though I’m definitely interested enough in the core story to continue on with the next book.

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