Review: The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss
Monday, March 30th, 2009
Part of Rothfuss’s dedication reads, “[T]o my father, who taught me that if I was going to do something, I should take my time and do it right the first time.”
Well done, sir.
Reading the The Name of the Wind, the first book in what will eventually be a trilogy, it was difficult to believe that this is Rothfuss’s first effort. I have to be honest and say that I often shy away from being identified as a fantasy fan because there is soooo much mediocre fantasty out there, and I would hate for anyone to think that those books are the ones I deem worth my time. It just seems to me that when one sets out to write a fantasy novel, that is probably at least in part due to having read and being a fan of a lot of fantasy, which inevitably subjects the author to a number of potholes, which I could probably enumerate, if I was willing to think about it long enough. So much new fantasy seems like the oldies but goodies dressed up in gawdy new clothes that don’t fit, or is brimming with cliche & tiresome characters & situations & painful wannabe-medieval dialogue, or spends so much time trying to catch you up on the entire mythological, sociological, anthropological, and historical context of the world that you’re ready to chuck the whole thing after just a few chapters. I do think there are folks out there who really enjoy reading Lord of the Rings with all the names changed over and over again, but I would never want to be confused with one of them. This book, though, I would actually admit in public to enjoying. Delighting in, in fact.
The story centers around a middle-aged innkeeper / bartender named Kvothe who lives in a rather typical fantastic, pseudo-medieval world. A figure of legend and many an embroidered tale of heroism and derring do, Kvothe has gone into hiding for reasons as yet unknown to us. When he is discovered by a scribe who wants to write down the real stories behind Kvothe’s legendary adventures, we are thrust into a Thousand-And-One Nights-style story-within-a-story retelling of the barkeep’s life. In between these tales, we learn more about the present-day goings-on in Kvothe’s world, and begin to suspect that there’s bad business a-brewin.
“That should do for now, I imagine,” says Kvothe on page 712, having reached his 16th or 17th year in his recounting of his life. “We have all the groundwork for now. A foundation of story to build upon.” Which may as well be Rothfuss speaking directly to us. One of the difficulties in fantasy writing is always setting up an unfamiliar world for your readers without overwhelming them, confusing them, or causing them to lose all interest in the story itself. Rothfuss, on the other hand, has taken his time and done the thing properly. This volume, in a way, feels like the exposition of a sonata. It’s clear that development or tidy conclusions were never on the menu; that will come later. By cleverly tucking all the background information we need into the tale of Kvothe’s childhood and adolescence, we reach the end of the book and realize that we know everything we need to to leap head-on into Act 2, where we will get some larger-scale plot development. And, intrigued as we are to find out what happens next, we finish NotW feeling strangely satisfied. Kvothe’s stories-within-a-story contain their own little arcs; perhaps another of Rothfuss’s goals for book 1 was simply to help us get to know our protagonist, inside and out.
What else can I say? While aspects of the characters, towns, and institutions certainly feel familiar (it’s a feudal fantasy story), it’s the kind of familiarity that’s comforting without being cliche and predictable. The characters are three-dimensional and believable. His teenage characters read like teenagers, and act like them (even when being heroic). Rothfuss’s use of language (both narrative and dialogue) feels organic and natural, even when it’s made up (and bonus points for coming up with believable and even delicious slang, swears, and idioms). Finally, I love a book that doesn’t pull punches, and Rothfuss clearly has no qualms whatsoever about subjecting his characters to the most grisly of fates.
So yeah - a fantasy book you don’t have to defend to your non-fantasy-reading fans. I have a feeling this may be one that transcends the usual fantasy crowd; it’s less a book about wizards and great feuds and the triumph of good over evil and more a book about people and how they deal with life. I read it in under two weeks, and that’s saying something for me.