Patrick Rothfuss

This gem is a carefully wrought master piece of true magic. Not the flair and talented tricks of an accomplished writer but the truer magic that rests underneath the surface of things, the kind of magic that is the nature of things. It was such a gracious gift to be invited to the underthing and to be in the blessed company of Auri for a whole week. This is a marvellous book, you probably wont like it, if you dont then this book was not written for you, it was written for me and all those others like me who are a little askew and maybe a tad slant just longing to be set right so that we can breathe with ease as the world returns to the proper way of things.… (more)

This book is unapologetically a power fantasy. I didn’t know this before I started reading it; if I had, I might have gone into it with the right mindset. But I didn’t, so I was not expecting to be met with an inhumanly perfect child protagonist who embarks on a journey to learn essentially nothing, because there’s nothing more for him to learn except what he eventually discovers on his own.

The book rambles. It’s all over the place. That quality is an interesting reflection of its framing device – the narrative as we read it is being transcribed in real time, straight from the mouth of the storyteller – but it also imparted the strong sense that the author was pantsing the whole thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the framing device was a second-draft addition.

That doesn’t bother me by itself; I liked the meandering style. But little that happened mattered. Most of this story felt like a front-row seat to the comedy of errors that was Kvothe’s poor money management. Kvothe didn’t achieve what he set out to – in fact, he frequently seemed to forget about it. I had thought (and hoped) the University would take up only about as many pages as the streets of Tarbean. Kvothe was out of his element in Tarbean. He needed rescuing every once in a while. At the University, he was king. There were no stakes. But the University took up half the book, and it seems it’ll continue into the next one. It halfway felt like a waste of time, like Kvothe had run out of things to do there almost as soon as arriving. (Except outsmarting bullies, chasing girls, and worrying about money.)

Pardon a strong stance, but Kvothe was insufferable. Your classic ‘women love me, men want to be me’ archetype. He was a master of any trade he touched, a fast learner with a flawless memory; he was intelligent, quick witted, a prodigy, a savant; he was charming and charismatic. For the most part, the only characters who disliked him were one-note bully antagonists whom he had slighted or who envied him. If he ever made a mistake, it was someone else’s fault, or it wasn’t really a mistake. He didn’t grow or change in any way. Even after a very pivotal moment in his life, he remained largely the same. Even as he went from pre-pubescence to his midteens, he remained largely the same. He had one notable flaw – a flaw which he concluded circumstances had left him no choice but to have, and to keep.

TL;DR: Gary Stu protagonist. I don’t throw that around lightly, but I can’t think of one way Kvothe doesn’t fit the bill.

The rest of the cast was comparatively bland, or else afflicted with a sort of strange circumstantial madness. Kvothe’s friends were empty. Women were all described as beautiful or otherworldly (even, in a statement that was creepily perspicuous, a little girl). Sure, sure, Kvothe was a teenage boy – women were naturally aliens to him. But most women in this story had one role: to be damsels in distress for Kvothe to save, and then to shower him in affection. I don’t think Kvothe ever had to rescue one dude. The narrative might have benefited from a male friend – a peer – he actually needed, or who actually needed him, but his two main friends were by and large meaningless side characters. There were a few characters I liked, but they had very little page time: Abenthy, Trapis, Lorren, Sovoy, Bast. Maybe more page time would have ruined them.

The worldbuilding wasn’t quite rich, but it was engaging nonetheless. Sometimes it was a bit sillier than the serious protagonist would imply. ‘On this side of the river is the University. They love magic and hate music and frivolity. On the other side of the river is the city Imre. They hate magic and love music and frivolity. Isn’t that interesting, because our protagonist loves magic and music! He’s the bridge between the superstitious common people and the stuffy, elitist academics – everybody loves him!’ A bit silly.

Other than that, the very Christian mythology and folk tales were great fun. The magic system was fantastic, and so was the role of language in it. I really, really liked it. The concept of Alar, ‘riding-crop belief’, was unexpectedly philosophical; it’s stayed with me.

The writing style will appeal to anyone who likes straightforward but often evocative prose and isn’t bothered by the lightest touch of modern language in their fantasy novels. There were the occasional odd mechanical errors, distracting lapses in continuity, and instances of clunky repetition, and sometimes the prose felt a little too big for its boots (which wasn’t out of place for the narrator, who thought quite highly of himself), but there were sparks of simple, efficient poetry. ‘Before I had taken six steps I sagged like a sail when the wind fades.’ Cadence is the author’s strong suit.

My favourite aspect was the emphasis on the arts: I actually regret that the whole novel wasn’t about Kvothe trying to make it as an actor and musician in a harsh, violent world with no magic, no money to his name, no possessions but for a battered old lute and the shirt off his back, and no guide but the memories of a troupe lost to blade and blue flame. Alas, this wasn’t that kind of story.

All in all, my impression was that this author had fascinating ideas but came up with them on the fly, so they’re cobbled together in a freakish Frankensteinian promise of a plot rather than a true cohesive, self-contained narrative. Good prose is somewhat dampened by two-dimensional characters and a stakes-less narrative.

I understand why many people love this story. It’s very much a product of its time. When you step into that first-person escape and become Kvothe, you’re a god in your own life. You will always succeed, and that is guaranteed. The people who hate you are evil. The people who doubt you haven’t met you.

3/5 stars. A strange read I didn’t enjoy. When I’ve forgotten it, I’d like to reread it, but I probably wouldn’t pick up another book from this author.… (more)