Patrick Rothfuss

A book that doesn't care if you understand it.

This is not a normal review. And The Slow Regard of Silent Things is not a normal book.

Let me explain. This is a novella set in the world of the Kingkiller Chronicle, following Auri—the mysterious, fragile, brilliant girl who lives in the Underthing beneath the University. There is no Kvothe. There is no plot. There is no dialogue (almost). There is only Auri, her world of tunnels and broken secrets, and her desperate, tender need to make show more things right.
I loved it. I also completely understand why some people hate it.
What it is: A seven-day journey into the mind of a broken genius. Auri wakes each day, walks through the Underthing, finds objects (a button, a gear, a piece of string), and arranges them in precise, ritualistic ways. She is trying to make the world whole. She is trying to be good. She is, in her own strange way, shaping reality through small acts of love.
Rothfuss wrote this book for himself, then almost didn't publish it because he knew it was weird. In the foreword, he literally tells you: "This book is weird. You might not like it. That's okay." I admire that honesty.

Why I love it:

The prose is poetry. Every sentence is crafted like a tiny clockwork. Rothfuss writes Auri's thoughts with a rhythm that feels both childlike and ancient. "She was a wicked thing, but she was a good girl." I've read that line twenty times.
Auri herself. She is not a love interest. She is not a mystery to be solved. She is a person living with trauma, with obsessive-compulsive tendencies, with a mind that works in spirals and whispers. And Rothfuss never mocks her. He never explains her. He just lets her be. It's the most tender character study I've ever read.
The atmosphere. The Underthing—dark, echoing, full of forgotten machines and hidden rooms—becomes a character. I could smell the dust and the old metal. I could hear the water dripping. It's immersive in a way that few books achieve.
The ending. Without spoiling: the last few pages broke me. In a quiet, good way.

Why you might hate it:

Nothing happens. Literally. Auri washes her face. She moves a soap bar. She braids her hair. If you need plot, action, or even a conversation, this is not for you.
It's confusing. Auri names objects ("a brave boy for a button"), talks to unseen forces, and follows rules that only she understands. You will be lost. That's the point.
It's deeply sad. Not in a dramatic, tragic way. In a lonely, hollow way. Some readers find it depressing.

Who should read this:

Readers who loved Auri from the main books and want to live inside her head.
People who enjoy experimental, atmospheric fiction (think The Little Prince meets House of Leaves but quiet).
Anyone who has ever felt broken and tried to fix small things to feel whole.

Who should skip it:

Readers who want more Kvothe, more magic, more plot.
People who need stories to have a clear beginning, middle, and end.
Anyone frustrated by Rothfuss's slow release schedule (this will not help).

Final verdict:

The Slow Regard of Silent Things is not for everyone. It's not even for most fantasy readers. But for those who click with it, it's a treasure. I read it in one sitting, then immediately reread it. It made me look at my own small rituals—making tea, arranging my desk, folding laundry—and see them as acts of quiet defiance against a chaotic world.

Five stars. But with a warning label. Read the foreword first. Trust Rothfuss when he says it's weird. And then let Auri break your heart, one silent moment at a time. show less

"It had flaws, but what does that matter when it comes to matters of the heart? We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect."

Thoughts upon my first read:
I am honestly a little at a loss for words. I finished the book about an hour ago and I'm still show more struggling to come back to reality. Again, Patrick has amazed me with his writing. I love that we learn all these new things in this book about the different cultures of Temerant. As a writer myself (an amateur one), I envy how beautifully he describes the world he's created and I marvel at the world itself. His writing is poetic and lyrical but not exaggeratingly so, and most of the time it feels like the pages absorb you and take you inside this amazing world. Sometimes it truly feels like you're in there, standing next to Kvothe, breathing the same air as him, learning as he does and hurting when he does.
This book made me go through several different emotions, such as happiness, anxiousness, worry, second-hand embarrassment, stress and confusion, and probably many others that I can't remember now (honestly, this book was a roller coaster of emotions for me). I have to admit that this book could have been a bit shorter, not much, since a lot of things happen, but I feel like several things could have been simplified a little bit. Especially the Felurian part. To be honest, I suffered a little bit through that. It seemed endless for me, as it happened too suddenly and Kvothe's personality changed so much he actually annoyed me a little. The whole thing seemed pointless to the development of the plot until he ran into the Cthaeh. And thankfully, after he left the fae, Kvothe was back to his own self soon enough.
Any way, this book, just like The Name of The Wind, is now part of my favorite books. I'm just in love with Pat's writing. I can only wish to be able to write like him someday.
Sadly, now I have to wait for the third book like the rest, which will probably be torture, but I know it'll be a book worth waiting for.

Thoughts upon my second read (this might be long):
I'm gonna say this again because it still amazes me like you wouldn't believe: this book absorbed me completely from page 1 and kept me there until page 1107. I could not be freed from it until I had no other choice but to let go because I had run out of pages. And when that moment arrived, it was like I had been shaken violently awake from a long sleep and had no idea where I was or what was real. I've felt like this for the last hour; I can't shake the feeling off. I was sitting with my parents just after finishing it and they kept talking to me and I kept feeling like they weren't real, like this wasn't the right reality for me to be in, like they were fiction and the book was reality. I know, I sound insane, but that's how I felt... mmm, maybe I am insane, but I don't really mind; I feel like this is the good kind of insane. Both books of this trilogy have made me feel this way, but since this is the first time I was with other people when I finished it, the effect was much stronger. There's something indescribably captivating about the reality of these books; the vividness of it is striking. No other book has ever felt as real as these for me, not like this. I mean, some books manage to get close to this: they hook me, they are very well created and shown, they are believable worlds and I enjoy them greatly and appreciate them. But this is different. This is like going inside the book and actually being there: smelling the air, feeling the ground underneath my feet, hearing people's voices, their laughs, the music. I can't describe it and I don't know how Pat does it, but it's just so vivid it's almost scary. It's the most mind-blowing thing about these books for me.

I enjoyed this book much more the second time round (read it in 11 days instead of 13), much like it happened when I re-read The Name of The Wind. In some ways, this sequel is better than the first book and, in other ways, not so much. The Wise Man's Fear wins in plot and action. The Name of The Wind wins in the writing and the overall flow of the story. Like the first time round, I feel like WMF was rushed, published too soon without enough revisions and polishes, and it is clear that Pat did not enjoy writing this book as much as he did NOTW. I can't pinpoint to something specific that made me think this; it's just the overall feel I got from the writing and the development of the plot. This didn't flow nearly as smoothly as the first book, especially when Kvothe starts travelling. The plot starts feeling less natural and more forced then. Not too forced, but even a little forced is enough. The things that happen are the right ones, the plot itself is good and right, necessary for character development, but some of it wasn't approached as subtly as I had come to expect from these books. It didn't keep me from enjoying the book at all, but it was a noticable change from NOTW. I know Pat struggled with this book because he felt the pressure of the readers, didn't want to keep them waiting for the second book longer than they were already waiting; he put the pressure on himself and ended up suffering through the whole thing. And that struggle is palpable when you read it. Still, all things considered, this book is fucking fantastic and I wouldn't lower my 5 star rating even if I got paid a million dollars. It deserves every bit of those stars. And I'm glad Pat's been taking it easy on himself these days, enjoying his time with his children and pursuing other small projects related to his books (really wish I didn't live in Argentina so I could get the game of tak or the deck of cards, but well, at least I was able to buy the Anniversary Edition of NOTW), and hasn't been rushing himself to finish the third book just because people are impatient. I know that, because of this, Doors of Stone will be the best book of the trilogy and damn well worth waiting for.

But back to WMF, I was very surprised to find myself liking Denna for the most part and disliking Kvothe in many other parts, although I did mention that about Kvothe in my original review above, but I felt it slightly more this second time, maybe because I'm a more attentive reader than I was 3 years ago. For a long while after Kvothe came back from the Fae, there was too much sex involved for my taste and for what the whole story seemed to show until then. I don't mind sex, but it felt so out of place and out of character for Kvothe, and it happened so often that I couldn't help but be annoyed, like Kvothe's growth as "a man" was too sudden to be properly believable. I mean, I get what Felurian had done to him while he was in the Fae, but I feel like after he came back it was thrown in my face all the time and it just didn't fit. And I found myself angry at Kvothe because he had become too sexual too soon; it was like he was cheating on his precious Denna, that he had suddenly forgotten her, even though they obviously weren't an actual exclusive couple. Eventually, Kvothe was more recognizable, but he was still too much of a ladies man for my taste; it didn't suit him. I was surprised at how less annoying the whole Felurian felt this second time round; I didn't particularly enjoy it because I found the repetitive descriptions of her tiresome, but I didn't suffer through it like I did the first time. And I'm also pretty convinced that Denna is a Lackless and, judging from the internet, I'm not the first to make the connection.
On a different note, I still love Simmon with every fiber of my being. He is a wonderful man and I want to protect him with my life. And I desperately wish he was real (I'm actually only going to add this book to my "fictional boyfriends" shelf just because of him). And the University feels so much like home that it hurts me merely because I can't actually be there in person. And Fela is every bit the woman I wish I was, and I love her. Auri is the most wonderful thing and I'd read a million books about her, even if it's only a million pages of her making soap.

“I have an apple that thinks its a pear. And a bun that thinks it’s a cat. And a lettuce that thinks its a lettuce."
"It’s a clever lettuce, then."
"Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it’s a lettuce?"
"Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked.
"Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.”

And, honestly, Devi is so intoxicating that it makes me doubt my sexuality. Basically, wonderful women and some wonderful men as well.

Well, in summary, I fucking love these books, I love Pat's gorgeous, marvelous, musical writing, and I love Simmon. Here ends this second review. show less

First things first: I’d like to discourage you from reading this novel because the trilogy as planned by Rothfuss is still unfinished and Kvothe’s amazing story remains untold in large parts. I got this book as a gift from a colleague and despite having been similarly warned by him, I devoured it!

Rothfuss has masterfully crafted a world that is both rich in detail and vivid in imagination, making it impossible for me to put down.

The story centres around the life of Kvothe, an almost show more legendary wizard, musician and Kingkiller who is now living in obscurity as an innkeeper. The plot weaves together Kvothe's past and present, with each chapter revealing more about his past and how it has shaped the person he has become. The characters in the book are beautifully crafted, with each one having their own unique personality that adds depth and colour to the story.

One of the things I loved most about "The Name of the Wind" was Rothfuss' writing style. His prose is lyrical and poetic, making even the most mundane scenes come alive with vivid imagery. This style of writing, coupled with the intricate world-building, drew me in from the very first page and kept me invested in the story until the very end. (Which made the fact that it’s only the end of the book all the more aggravating!)

Another aspect of the book that I found particularly impressive was the magic system. The way in which magic works in this world is both complex and fascinating, with different types of magic being tied to music and other creative expressions.

Overall, I would highly recommend "The Name of the Wind" to anyone who enjoys fantasy - if only it were finished. The second instalment in the trilogy is similarly great compared to this one, albeit a bit more “explicit” in some aspects…

I just hope I’ll live to see the infamous “Doors of Stone”, the final novel in the trilogy, published. In contrast to, let’s say George R. R. Martin, whom I’ve written off as a complete and unredeemable loss, I fully intend to read Rothfuss one last time.

NB: If you read this and think “this author owes you nothing”, you’d generally be right but Rothfuss actually told us, the trilogy was completely finished several times and promised yearly releases, e. g. here: https://fantasyhotlist.blogspot.com/2007/03/patrick-rothfuss-interview.html

Even his editor is disillusioned to say the least: https://www.newsweek.com/kingkiller-chronicle-editor-believes-author-hasnt-writt...

Nevertheless, for what Rothfuss gave us with “The Name of the Wind” I cannot help but grudgingly award five stars out of five.

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Ceterum censeo Putin esse delendam show less

Este es uno de los libros más sobrevalorados que existen. ¿Es entretenido? Sí, cuando no está siendo repetitivo (No, no me interesa leer 200 páginas donde lo único que vemos es como Kothve vive en las calles y no pasa absolutamente NADA). ¿Es una "genial obra maestra"?:



Leí varias reseñas donde la gente incluso compara a Rothfuss con [a:J.R.R. Tolkien|656983|J.R.R. Tolkien|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1383526938p2/656983.jpg] o con [a:George R.R. Martin|346732|George R.R. show more Martin|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1351944410p2/346732.jpg].



Queridos Goodreaders, Tolkien y Martín escriben historias únicas con docenas de personajes complejos!!! Rothfuss escribe un retelling de Oliver Twist, con un poco de magia y un protagonista perfecto, literalmente. Es taaan perfecto que hasta el mismo lo sabe:

"Admitiré que soy mejor. Aprendo más deprisa. Trabajo más. Mis manos son más diestras. Mi mente es más curiosa. Sin embargo, también espero que eso lo sepa usted sin necesidad de que se lo diga yo".

Obviamente el pobrecito no tiene idea de lo que significa "baja autoestima" o "modestia":

"Yo era un chico muy listo, un héroe en ciernes".

Es muy fácil escribir un personaje likeable si todo lo que hace, lo hace bien. Lo difícil es escribir un personaje lleno de defectos y aún así lograr que los lectores encuentren en él cualidades para redimirlo. Así que, perdónenme si lo que hizo Rothfuss no me parece ningún gran logro. Sobretodo tomando en cuenta que se tardó 10 años escribiéndolo.

Obviamente soy minoría aquí, pero llevando esto hasta los estereotipos iría tan lejos como para decir que esto no es más que el equivalente de un chick-lit para hombres —¿Boy-lit? ¿Guy-lit?—; literatura hueca que está bien para entretenerse un poco y pasar el rato. Nada más. show less