“The Name of the Wind”, by Patrick Rothfuss
I find myself unable to fully make up my mind about this book.
The gist: “Wind” is a frame story. In a little town in the middle of nowhere there’s a an inn run by a battered, run-down old innkeeper. It turns out the innkeeper is actually a feared and notorious wizard named Kvothe, both famous and infamous for his daring deeds and some world-shattering crime in his past. Kvothe has apparently fled to anonymity to die, but a wandering scholar calling himself “Chronicler” turns up, and convinces Kvothe to tell his story. As Kvothe does, stranger and stranger things begin happening around the inn.
There are some powerful scenes and great moments in this book. The black-eyed man and the hooded man with no face, for instance. The man who takes care of the orphans. The brutal guard on the streets. The drug addict dancing in the snow. Kvothe’s song to win his silver pipes, what happens when his string breaks, and his confrontation with a cruel teacher and his rivalry with an older student. The “Hee Haw” song. The horror the under the floorboards at the wedding. The legends of the Amyr and the Chandrian. Each one of these scenes were powerful.
But…in a certain sense, nothing at all happens in the book. The first half of the book is much better than the second half. In the beginning, Kvothe, surrounded by ominous secrets, starts to tell his story to Chronicler. In the end, Kvothe, surrounded by ominous secrets, is still telling his story to Chronicler. Nothing has changed. In the beginning of Kvothe’s story, he is an orphaned, precocious youth. At the end of Kvothe’s story, he is still an orphaned, precocious youth. Nothing has changed. There’s building action, building action, more building…and then nothing. The book ends.
It’s a cliffhanger without an actual cliff at the end.
Now I know this is supposed to be the first of a trilogy, but still. You expect some sort of ending. Reading this book is like picking up a novel and finding that the final three hundred pages were blank.
Kvothe himself seems a little too superhuman; he’s good at music and magic and logic and lockpicking and languages. His relationship with his semi-girlfriend Denna is somewhat annoying. It seems like the stereotypical “geek lets pretty girl cry on his shoulder in between her dates with football players while frustrated that she just doesn’t see him ‘that’ way” transposed into a medieval fantasy setting. I felt the same way about the “Spider-Man” movies; if Peter Parker is so smart, why doesn’t he find himself a girlfriend with a lower Drama Queen score? The same goes for Kvothe.
So, despite numerous fine individual scenes, “The Name of the Wind” just didn’t do it for me. To be fair, I suppose I should wait for the next book before rendering a final opinion. But the next book had better have a lot of payoff.
-JM


