Tag: Patrick Rothfuss

Rothfuss reaction

So I just finished Patrick Rothfuss’s second “Kingkiller Chronicles” novel, Wise Man’s Fear. In general, not quite as good as Name of the Wind, but still a brilliant novel. Rothfuss has a command of the language and ability to paint with words that’s just awe inspiring. I’m not going to be spoilery in this, well, more of a reaction than a full review. But I must be specific in mention how, in Wise Man, there’s a picnic scene near the end that is heartbreakingly beautiful and, and gut wrenchingly tragic. Rothfuss is able to manipulate emotion with words the same way his Kvothe can do it with song. Even the almost-Tom Bombadil-superfluous segment of his adventures in the land of fey is a roller-coaster of drama.

One of the things about Name of the Wind that kept me on the edge of my seat and constantly unsettled (in a good way), is the way he constantly changes the fortunes of his picaresque hero on a dime. One minute Kvothe is doing something so brilliantly, he succeeds at something so skillfully, that I would be shaking my head incredulously if not for being thrilled by the process of success. A success that almost invariable makes me think in some small voice, “Oh, that’s a bit too convenient. He can’t lose, now!” And then, before the thought is fully formed–wham! Kvothe is blindsided by a problem, an issue, a challenge, a loss that is actually worse than the previous success was wonderful, in such a way as to make me gasp and wonder, instead, “Yikes! How the heck is he going to recover from that? That’s really going to cost him.” And then, what follows, is an entirely believable and well-earned overcoming of misfortune.

The one problem I had with Name of the Wind was that the ending felt anti-climactic. But, when you consider, it’s really meant to simply be a first act, it works okay–especially since I was able to carry right on into the next book.

The problem(s) I had with Wise Man’s Fear is that it felt too much like his escapades were unearned, and Marty Stu-ish. Such as the afore-mentioned time in fey with a “lust goddess.”

“When Larry Met Mary”

(Oh, that’s funny. Re-reading that comic’s title, I just realized realized the very connection to the complaint I just made above! Duh! [Larry Stu is another name for Marty Stu, which are both variants of Marry Sue. See trope link.])

And then his excursion into the realm of, yeah, what’s essentially the equivalent of a ninja-factory, and all the fantasy sexinating he does there. (Another tangent: His time there reminded me way too much of the hero Anjin-san’s sexedumacation of the free and lusty way of feudal Japan in James Clavell’s Shogun.) It just didn’t have the same realism of the first book.

But then, what we’re reading in these two books, is the bildungsroman of a man who would become a legend, a subject of fantastic tales. He has to develop as a young man from urchin to world-wise proto-myth. He has to have the adventures and experience to create the mythic figure. And, I said before he doesn’t seem to earn the rather too-good-to-be-true romps, and as I think of it, he does… but doesn’t. *sigh*

Before he enters fey (like, literally stumbles into it from out of nowhere),  he has an experience during a fight that is rather horrific. It’s horrific for him, and it’s wonderfully and properly horrific for the reader. On the surface it’s an event that should be worthy of a positive turn for him. A piece of Kvothe’s “soul,” if not his sanity, should have been harmed in that event. But, then, really, it’s not. Rothfuss creates this event, this scene, that should have been extremely formative to Kvothe’s psyche, but it’s dropped almost as soon as it’s over. He does have a very negative event in fey with an enchanted tree (not as silly as it sounds–it’s described quite wonderfully!) that does in fact harm him and he carries the pain through the rest of the book. But, in my opinion, the tree event is a far lesser terror than what happens in the battle, and the lasting reactions and terribly flipped.

…unless, it’s intentional. Unless the the reason why Kvothe is able to shrug off the one and let the other emotionally haunt him, is very telling of the kind of man he becomes. If so, well, it needs to be more apparent in book three.

And, speaking of the man he becomes, this is the last thing that bothers me: The books are the story of Kvothe’s early life wrapped around a frame narrative of the man that he became telling his story. But the man in the “present” is constantly shifting, as if Rothfuss isn’t very solid on who Kvothe is these years later. One minute he feels like he’s in his 50s and has done and seen many great things before essentially retiring, and the next minute, he’s only a couple years older than the character he’s telling the story of. It’s very shaky.

Okay, the criticism aside, Wise Man’s Fear, not as good as Name of the Wind, is still one of the best fantasy books I’ve read. The emotion feels so authentic, the drama is compelling, the dialog is extremely believable, the writing is endlessly skillful yet completely painless to read. The wait for book three has been two days long for me and is already interminable!

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Response: Name of the Wind

I’m calling this a “response” as opposed to a “review” because, well, an actual review deserves a much more involved and lengthy analysis. I just wanna make some comments!

So, I finally finished Patrick RothfussThe Name of the Wind a couple of nights ago. I started it…early last year, but only got about 20 pages in when I got distracted by something shiny. Then, a few weeks ago, I went on a Hunger Games jag and read that trilogy in about 4 days. As I mentioned in my post, “Hunger Games review and reaction,” that series had affected me so deeply, so fundamentally, that trying to read anything afterward was like tasting ash. I picked up and put down several books I had been in the middle of, and nothing appealed to me. Then I picked The Name of the Wind back up, and bam! I was on another jag, reading that every moment I could. (Thank you Nook and Android Nook app!)

Absolutely brilliant writing! Patrick’s way with words and structure, of painting scenes and clever dialog… captivating! And, it’s (technically) his first novel to boot! (“Technically,” because, as I recall from podcast interviews with him, he’d written and rewritten it enough times to make it, like, his 6th book.) But what really floors me, is, also according to him in interviews, he’d never really learned English grammar. He was always just good at picking up and sussing how words must fit together.

I can understand that! I relate. Despite my reading and writing at a very early age, despite my obsessive love of reading growing up, of my love of writing stories… I sucked in English classes. I graduated high school without any clear learnin’ of a participle from a preposition, a phrase from a clause to a run-on from a comma splice. Nominative and dative? Weren’t those Roman senators or something? It wasn’t until I took German classes in college when I finally had to learn English grammar. How could I get good enough grades in HS English to have been in AP English?! Because, like Patrick, I just groked grammar without knowing the jargon. Although, unlike Patrick, I’ve had to learn it all in order to get an English Master’s with the hope of teaching college English. Ironically, I’m not teaching yet Patrick is! Amusing. 🙂

Anyway, I digress. The Name of The Wind was like a dark, adult, punk Harry Potter. Orphaned boy, “wizarding” school, quest to find out and beat what killed his parents who loved him very much… all that. But that’s where the similarity ends. (And while I did say “adult,” it’s not that kind of adult novel. There’s some violence, some anti-social behavior, some implied sexuality–but all pretty tame. It’s simply that, while a young adult can (and should) read this novel, it’s meant for the adult reader.)

I did have a few qualms, though. I noticed a few instances of continuity errors. Sadly, I can’t bring any specific examples to mind, but they were things that made me have to go back and find where X was referred to earlier and confirm that there was a problem in its later reference. Oh well, nothing serious. But ti did make me feel a lot more positive about my own novel.

So, I just started on the sequel, The Wise Man’s Fear. I understand it’s a little more dark. It’s certainly at least as good so far.

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Rothfuss coolness


The last couple of days has hit me with a couple of instances of coolness regarding a writer I like… whom I’ve not actually read yet! Patrick Rothfuss, author of the fantasy bestseller, The Name of the Wind, and its sequel, The Wise Man’s Fear. These are his only two published novels so far, and I’ve not actually read either yet — although, The Name of the Wind happens to be sitting atop my stack of books-to-read. (Link to my other blog I’m still migrating posts over from.)

If I haven’t read any of his fiction, how can I like him? Well, for nearly two years now, I’ve been reading about him, and especially lately, have been hearing him on a lot of podcasts and reading his interviews. I like the guy. I’m looking forward to liking his writing, as well, soon.

Anyway, one of those podcasts, I listened to this last week: Adventures in SciFi Publishing, number 118. As the interview guest, he spoke a lot about various topics, about writing and getting published, and his trials and tribulations with editing — very inspiring. But one thing he said that really got my attention, was his revelation that he didn’t know a simile from a metaphor, and has to think about the difference between an adjective and an adverb. This was shocking to me because, well, personally, I love grammar. 🙂 But apart from that, it seems to me that every writer I’m familiar with appears to know more about grammar than I do. How is it this acclaimed, best-selling, beloved writer by intelligent and educated fantasy readers, could possibly not know 5th-grade grammar concepts? Me knee-jerk reaction was of shock and disappointment.

But, after a moment, I realized: Who flippin’ cares if he doesn’t know the mechanics. He can obviously write extremely well from instinct, from natural talent, from the experience of reading other peoples’ writing, from (as he described) listening to his own words and how they feel, if they simply sound well put together. In a way, I envy that.

Though, he also teaches creative writing. And I have to wonder, surely he has to know basic “stuff” in order to at least help teach basic skills and what to avoid. I mean, how can you teach new writers to avoid adverbs, especially “-ly” adverbs, if you have a hard time remembering what an adverb is? For example. And I wonder, was he being intentionality overly self-deprecating in the interview? Oh well, not really important.

The second piece of interesting coolness was his latest blog posting describing his experience trying to book a last-minute book signing in Iowa City. It’s an amusing tale just in general. But what amused me more, was that the store that finally booked him, and quite happily, was The Haunted Bookshop — a primarily used book store. I lived in Iowa City for a year, about a decade ago, and I used to shop at that store all the time. I remember going in there right before each of my twice-a-month 8-hour drives to Missouri to pick up a new audiobook.

Really, it’s kind of silly, but the fact that he talked about this store, and posted a very familiar picture of the place, made me smile and chuckle for a couple of days. Ah, nostalgia-from-serendipity!

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