Patrick Rothfuss

For all the alleged badpress that this book got, I'm going to have to strongly disagree with those reviewers. The issue that many of them took seems to be not with the writing or Rothfuss' story, but was centred on their own expectations. Rothfuss clearly states in both the introduction and afterword that this is not meant to be a continuation of Kvothe's story, nor was it even in the same vein. It is Auri's story, and as any reader with half a brain realizes, Auri is not your typical show more character. Without getting too psychoanalytic about Auri's probable mental health issues or place on the Autism spectrum, we have to realize before even staring this book that her story is not going to be predictable, structured, or even really a story. Instead we are given a glimpse into the life of someone who is unique, someone who defies expectations, and someone who even though we think we understand her we cannot truly. But for all that, I think that this is a wonderful little story, and that Rothfuss is incredibly brave for publishing something that he knew many readers would disparage. Well, I'm not one of those readers - bravo!

Review 2018

"I cannot help but wonder how many of us walk through our lives, day after day, feeling slightly broken and alone, surrounded by others who feel exactly the same way."

Rothfuss speaks no truer words during his extrapolation after the final scene of The Slow Regard of Silent Things, besides mentioning that his stories are always better the second time around. Auri was always a character who intrigued me, but when I first read this book it didn't quite fit (even though I did enjoy it). Like Auri's careful interaction with the world something things are meant to be done properly, and returning to this novella now was a moment of perfection. The story itself is less of a story in the traditional sense, as much as an exploration of words, an importation of wonder and wondering, and a careful dance around the mysteries of the world that we see every day - and it is far stronger for all its strangeness. show less

Wise Man's Fear is a much better story than Name of the Wind. Is it still about Ginger Sue? Yup. Does it still lack any real plot, beyond occasionally looking for information on the Chandarin? Nope! Its a series of connected, pointless vignettes! Then why did I like it?

Because this book has convinced me that Kvothe is a huge freaking compulsive liar. And that makes Kvothe arrogant and manipulative. It gives him real flaws. In Name of the Wind, he had none. He was Superman, and that made him show more hard to relate to and boring. In Wise Man's Fear, he gets called out on a lot. There's several times he refuses to tell a story because there are records of it already. There's other times he's called out on his story not matching reality, like his sword not matching description, girls not matching descriptions, or his encounter with Felurian and Ctheath not fitting description or Fae law. He is constantly saying how he spreads rumors to manage his reputation and boldly states to both the reader and to Maer about his prowess as a liar. This makes the narrative a game, trying to figure out what Kvothe is hiding, what is truth versus fabrication. Kvothe is no Superman, he is Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner. While still impressive, he is human. Was he unable to fight off the soldiers due to forgetting he was Kvothe Kingkiller, or was he faking an inability to fight because he nearly forgot he was supposed to be a simple innkeeper?

His pursuit of Denna remains creepy and stalkerish, with hints of patronizing white-knightery. For all his intellect, he fails to make one single rational decision when it comes to her.

I enjoyed the traveling aspect of the book, seeing more cultures and locations than the University. It was very solid world-building and makes for a more interesting read than your standard magical school does. I particularly liked learning about the Adem, although their Lethani stuff felt kinda phoned in, cheaply made mysterious . I found it hard to believe such an advanced society failed to figure out the basics of sex, paternity, and baby-making, but I can write it off as something the women of a matriarchal society understand and choose to keep from their men and outsiders like Kvothe. As a way to maintain the power structure.

Lastly, the ending disturbed me. One of Kvothe's last actions is to Kill nine people in cold blood after finding out they were murderers and rapists. He continues to mutilate the bodies, and essentially tortures one man over days. Later, in a town he breaks a boy's arm in a fit of temper over an emotional statement the boy made . Now, I can agree with his actions, to a point. But in both cases Kvothe went too far. Especially breaking the boy's arm when a slap or punch may have sufficed. Kvothe loses perhaps a night's sleep over it, and everyone trips over themselves to thank him. No one ever suggests that he did wrong. There is never a hint of punishment. In a previous book, breaking Ambrose's arm on accident resulted in a whipping. His consequences here were little more than revelry and a victory lap. Its hard to like or relate to a character that you feel is more than a bit monstrous.

But I like the feel of Rothfuss's work. I adore his prose. He strings words together in a way that is just....pleasing. He tells a story well, regardless of if the story told is good or not.

Also, I've begun to read Kvothe's dialogue in Zap Brannigan's voice. What can I say? It fits remarkably. show less

If I could title this review, I'd go with "How Not To Write A Trilogy." [b:THE NAME OF THE WIND|186074|The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #1)|Patrick Rothfuss|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1270352123s/186074.jpg|2502879] gave me hope that I had discovered a good trilogy, not just a good book. THE WISE MAN'S FEAR left that hope on life support.

The second installment of a good trilogy answers some/most questions from the first installment and asks new questions. It raises the show more stakes to nearly hopeless levels. It leaves Han Solo frozen in carbonite. The second installment of a good trilogy does not string the reader along with hardly any rewards, without keeping the promises that were set up in the first book, and wave a little flag on the last page that reads, "You want answers? Read Book Three, mwa-ha-ha."

Lack of payoff aside, this novel fails for two main reasons: first, the author's self-indulgent discarding of the rules of story proportion. For example, don't spend 70 pages on the hero's carnal education from a sex-obsessed faerie and one page on a life-threatening shipwreck. Don't spend the first 350 pages on Daily Life At The University and one page on a six-day trial at which the hero is accused of magic malfeasance. Don't spend 150 pages on learning a foreign culture, including the culture's puerile emphasis on sex--both encounters and discussions--and then spend ... actually, on second thought, just don't do that, ever. Mr. Rothfuss needs a pitiless editor, one that would have told him this book is about twenty-five percent too long.

Alongside the proportion problem is lack of tension. Entire chapters pass without raising the stakes, without making things worse or even changing the state of, well, anything. Far too many scenes don't hold even interpersonal tension, and many that do feel forced, particularly Kvothe's fight with Denna in Severen and his outburst to the Maer's wife about his heritage. The author knew how he wanted scenes to end, so he pushed the dialogue in that direction with no attempt at subtlety.

Will I read Book Three? Probably. I still want to know how Present-Time Kvothe's tale will end. But it will be my last Rothfuss book unless it delivers real tension, not forced tension; unless it puts Kvothe in real, physical and emotional danger; and unless Mr. Rothfuss bridles his creative appetite long enough to learn language economy and narrative focus. show less

Update 10/8/17:
Re-Read with buddies!
I'm pretty much exactly where I was the first time I read it. It reads like a wonderful dream and I could keep immersing myself in this story FOREVER. There's no real point where I ever get tired of anything. The text is not only clear, it's mythological and astounding and I frankly love how Kvothe keeps on adding his skills indefinitely.

Sure, he's an unreliable narrator but there's so damn much that he has done, so it's really hard to separate the truth show more as he tells it from the actual fact. Even so, his internal logic of his own storytelling accounts for the overblown legends and scales it back realistically enough that we can't help but see his recounting as accurate.

And so we fall into his trap. I mean, after all, his legend rings far and wide. Surely there's a huge bucket of truth in there somewhere. Right?

Even so, what a fantastic tale. A tale within a tale, with many little tales inside it. Love Denna, love Kvothe. Wish they'd get their shit together. Absolutely love everything else, from the university to the Mayor to the land of the Fae to the special studies in distant lands. It's just beautiful and wild.

And after all this, I'm still sitting on the edge of my seat, enthusiastic as ever, and suddenly sad anew because there's no continuance of this tale. Those cliffhangers! Damn! Please! Come on!

*sigh*

Must. Remain. Patient.

Theres still so much tale to get to. Like the death of a king, maybe. LoL. :)


Original Review:

I am amazed by myself that I hadn't read this book sooner. I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat the entire time, so that means that I have semi-permanent ridge marks on my ass. I loved the book. Seriously loved it.

The book is 900 pages long, yet it feels like a ripping-good yarn of a fraction of its size.

So much has been happening to our hero, and you get a sense that his fame is both a huge source of joy and conflict, self-inflicted and quite out of his control. Even from the first book, I had the feeling that we were in a setup drawn out of D&D 2.0 Edition, drawing up a multi-classed wizard, but that's where the analogy ends; for while its setup is pure, the writing, the detail, the sheer immensity of the world-building, the pacing, and the depth of the back-story soon outstrips practically all previous fantasy novels that I've read. That's saying a lot, I know. Still, you can't quite compare this experience to LoTR or WoT or Brent Weeks. The pacing and the absolute focus on one character's growth from childhood with the hints of the fallen-but-great man that he has become just don't fit into those molds at all.

The love story is truly tragic in the sense that neither lover can quite get their acts together; but despite it all, they're really quite charming and refreshing. I can't say much of anything about them without giving away everything, even though it would still take several pages to go through their love with the hope of being fair.

What I truly love is the fact that Mr. Rothfuss is obviously well-rounded and well-read, but he has studiously made a point of not wowing the reader with his knowledge. Instead, he's focused all of his skills on honing such a sharp edge of a story that cannot let me go.

A few things that I've found to be greatly amusing, (and I'm not being facetious here,):

The description of anger. You'll know what I mean when you get it. It's part of a corollary with the matriarchal monks and the absolutely delightful description of reproduction.

The mysterious legend of the Templar Knights, (not named as such in the books,) that mimics the insanity of our world's research mania.

The deliberate set-up and allusion to Orpheus, and although our main character hasn't reached the point of the Greek legend, I'm truly biting at the bit to see it.



I cannot wait until the next book comes out. I'll recommend this book to everyone who likes Heroic Fantasy done extremely well. show less