There is nothing like spinning an epic tale from the warm, golden light of an imaginary inn in an imaginary world to invite me in and make me feel comfortably at home. You give me a powerful being laying hidden in wait and the stark foreshadowing of tragedies to come and I'm yours.
When I finished this book I immediately texted my friend Heather (who recommended it to me and who I burden with my currently-reading-feels no matter the time of day or night) that, after months of trial and error, I was finally done. I'd made it to the end. Upon receiving said text, she asked me how I felt.
It brought me up short. How did I feel?
The answer is... I felt many things. Anxious to start the next book. Daunted by its size. Scared of the long wait for the last book to be published. Saddened by Kvothe's gradual descent into believing himself an innkeeper instead of the precocious and cocky hero that he was. Confused and angry by Bast's plea to Chronicler to leave out and/or direct Kvothe away from the sad parts of his story (No! Give me the sad! Give me ALL THE sad! Don't you know I'm a masochist?).
Yes, it took me a long time to read this book. By my count almost 8 months. Unacceptable, right? Especially considering how much I was enjoying my time in Rothfuss' well-executed world. I know and I'm sorry. It is in no way indicative of my feelings toward this story or its hero. Honest.
Speaking of which... if I have the desire to and can plainly picture myself living in your fictional world, then in my mind you have succeeded as an author. So thank you, Mr. Rothfuss, for providing me another beautiful landscape into which I can escape to daydream.
I love me some tragedy, and Rothfuss handled the series of tragedies that Kvothe experiences with a startlingly subtle brilliance. The slaughter of Kvothe's family... his time spent wandering the woods in stunned grief... the wild and impoverished years in Tarbean that followed... all of it was wonderfully engrossing. To go from living with the warm comfort and camaraderie of the Edema Ruh to the severely cold existence of being an orphan on the streets of a foreign city... it's all an appropriately tragic origin story for the boy who would grow to be one of the world's most powerful arcanists.
I will admit though to a bit of eye-rolling every time I encountered something that Kvothe was immediately exceptional at. However I was always able to forgive Kvothe's more Gary Stu-ish moments because I felt like Rothfuss laid nice groundwork to adequately explain Kvothe's cleverness, not to mention Kvothe makes frequent mentions about how his overconfidence made him a fool. But rest assured that those moments did not go by unnoticed. Also this was a story about the man behind the myth! Myths are not born from the ordinary. Yes, Kvothe is annoyingly the best at everything he does (one of those people that my husband and I joke about and implore to "save some for the rest of us") but this is a tale of heroism and magic! Sometimes the heart wants an indestructible hero even when the mind thinks it is silly.
I loved the outline of the narrative and the shifts between first- and third-person narrators. I even didn't so much mind the thing that I usually despise where people in books or movies say things to each other like "this isn't a story, this is our lives" because come on.
Something that really piqued my interest and endeared me wholeheartedly to this world and the magic system in it was the idea of naming. I hope The Wise Man's Fear goes into more detail with the concept and execution of naming because we really only got a taste of it there at the end but I loved it. I understand clearly how Kvothe could make it the end-all, be-all goal of his life to be like Taborlin the Great and learn the names of all things.
Master Elodin says "Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. There are seven words that will make a person love you. There are ten words that will break a strong man's will. But a word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself."
YES YES YES. Oh, Elodin! I knew you weren't wholly unhelpful!
Overall I enjoyed it immensely. My heart didn't burn with a fiery passion for it, but time and discussion may change that.
Final note?
I hate that god damn Ambrose. He better get some sort of comeuppance for his blatant jackassery or I'm going to be pissed.
