2007 was a good year. Copyrighted that year was the first novel in a fantasy trilogy that would sit comfortably among the ranks of “Game of Thrones” and “Lord of the Rings.”
That was the year that Patrick Rothfuss first gave the masses the most beautiful literary gift: “The Name of the Wind.”
Featuring the magnetic character, Kvothe (quothe) the first book of the Kingkiller Chronicle follows his incredibly exciting yet turbulent life, beginning in a traveling troupe with his family through plenty of beautifully-written adventures ending, as any good opening work, with a devotional desire to read on.
Kvothe is unlike any character I’ve met. He’s especially brilliant and talented; he proves his skills to be without match in almost every thing he attempts.
He’s also quite aware of his prowess, especially as he ages. His sharp wit and stellar intellect don’t feel cheap or over-the-top, thanks to Rothfuss’ expert characterization. He fleshes Kvothe, a very internal and complex character, out so fully, you have a hard time truly believing that he was never real. It’s a bit like Arthurian tradition in that way; Arthur, Guinevere and Mordred surely existed, at least in the smoky lands of human construct. Rothfuss adds Kvothe, the fiery young boy, to this elite group of surreal figures.
The book, which should have instantly made fantasy more appealing to the general public, weaves adult humor, childlike introspection, advanced reasoning and literary art (only a few positives out of many) together in a refreshing way. The combination of all elements is unlike anything I’ve seen.
Rothfuss’ elected summary baits the hook:
My name is Kvothe, pronounced nearly the same as "quothe." Names are important as they tell you a great deal about a person. I've had more names than anyone has a right to. The Adem call me Maedre. Which, depending on how it's spoken, can mean The Flame, The Thunder, or The Broken Tree.
"The Flame" is obvious if you've ever seen me. I have red hair, bright. If I had been born a couple of hundred years ago I would probably have been burned as a demon. I keep it short but it's unruly. When left to its own devices, it sticks up and makes me look as if I have been set afire.
"The Thunder" I attribute to a strong baritone and a great deal of stage training at an early age.
I've never thought of "The Broken Tree" as very significant. Although in retrospect, I suppose it could be considered at least partially prophetic.
My first mentor called me E'lir because I was clever and I knew it. My first real lover called me Dulator because she liked the sound of it. I have been called Shadicar, Lightfinger, and Six-String. I have been called Kvothe the Bloodless, Kvothe the Arcane, and Kvothe Kingkiller. I have earned those names. Bought and paid for them.
But I was brought up as Kvothe. My father once told me it meant "to know."
I have, of course, been called many other things. Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned.
I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep.
You may have heard of me.
So begins the tale of Kvothe—from his childhood in a troupe of traveling players, to years spent as a near-feral orphan in a crime-riddled city, to his daringly brazen yet successful bid to enter a difficult and dangerous school of magic. In these pages you will come to know Kvothe as a notorious magician, an accomplished thief, a masterful musician, and an infamous assassin. But The Name of the Wind is so much more—for the story it tells reveals the truth behind Kvothe's legend.
A more exotic “Harry Potter” for adults, the incomplete trilogy is one of the most magical and breathtaking works of art I’ve ever beheld. “The Name of the Wind” is the most enrapturing first installment; “The Wise Man’s Fear” only adds to the story; re-reading is required, because the third book’s release date hasn’t been remotely decided (and don’t ask; it’s not the best way to get on Rothfuss’ good side). There’s a supplementary book, though! Auri, a character that plays into Kvothe’s time at the University--a place full of magic, struggles and weird professors--gets her own tale in “The Slow Regard of Silent Things.”
If you love your brain, feed it this. Also, read Pat’s blog. Everything he says is brilliant and/or hilarious. Generally both.
