The Name of the Wind: Kingkiller Chronicle, Book 1

The Name of the Wind is fantasy storytelling at its most luxurious. Patrick Rothfuss doesn't just build a world — he invites you to inhabit it, wandering its roads alongside Kvothe with the ease of a dream you don't want to wake from. The prose flows like music, perfectly paced, rich without ever becoming a burden. Kvothe himself is a rare creation: brilliant yet believably flawed, heroic yet achingly human. Rothfuss reminds us that a great story, told with care and craft, is its own reward. This isn't just one of the best fantasy debuts I've encountered — it's one of the best books.

After finishing the fourth book in the SoIaF series by Martin I was at a loss. Then my research led me to The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. After reading A Wise Man's Fear last year, I can honestly say that my excitement for the planned finale, The Doors of Stone, is on par or greater than that of Martin's planned Winds of Winter. This book and its sequel are that good, if you haven't already, pick this up. I envy you and the journey you are about to embark on. The Name of the Wind had me from the jump. The story is broken into two parts, the present day events surrounding our protagonist, Kvothe, and the epic story of Kvothe's life which he is self-narrates in the first person. The present day world is where we begin and it's a place of danger and impending doom. The setting and the characters are intriguing. Who are these guys, where are they from, what is this dangerous creature that is showing up and why? All of this was enough to pull me in. Then we learn that this is only part of the picture. The majority of the novel focuses on Kvothe's fabled past, spanning from his childhood years to young adulthood. I won't go into specifics because that wouldn't be fair, but know that Kvothe is a man of legend. But why? That is the major intrigue of the whole yarn. Present day Kvothe's average appearance seems to betray his real age and vast experience. The scribe who comes to record his tale can hardly believe that Kvothe exists in the flesh; the tales of his life more fable than reality in the minds of most people. But what has he done? Why the fame? Why a kingkiller? These are the answers we are looking for as we progress though the book, and the series. As we read we learn of Kvothe's motivations that originate from his childhood experiences. These motivations are the drive that pushes him to risk his life to unlock secrets about a shadowy group with connections to his past. Kvothe, as a cocky, yet extremely talented actor and musician gets himself into many sticky situations, but is usually able to devise a plan to get out. Also, being a relative genius, he learns quickly and thus is able to pick up all types of skills to assist him on his journey. And the journey is a fabulous one. The setting is a fairly realistic post-medieval world (complete with map) but right underneath the surface you'll find magic and mystical creatures, and fantastic lore of what came before and what may still be out there. The Name of the Wind is an incredible read that is mostly a light-hearted chronicle of Kvothe's early adventures; juxtaposed by the sense of danger and doom felt in present day. What did Kvothe do in his life to make him a man of legend and how did he get to this point? That's for us to find out as we progress. And I'd be remiss not to mention Rothfuss's delivery of the book. This is one delicately crafted story that you can savor with all of your senses due to the level of detail and care put into the world and its inhabitants, both past and present. With all that being said, I haven't said enough about how much I enjoyed this book and its sequel.

Name of the Wind was enthusiastically recommended to me by a friend who is an avid fiction reader and author. I'm usually fairly picky about the books I read. If the story doesn't successfully keep my interest, I almost never finish. However, I trusted this friend's opinion on fantasy novels, and I picked up a cheap copy of this book, just to test it out. I do have to admit, I was impressed. Rothfuss obviously has a talent for writing attention-grabbing stories. Name of the Wind is fast-paced and very "real" in a sense. The following comments contain SPOILERS, just so you know. I found Kvothe's character pretty interesting, and the story of his childhood is a tragic one, which makes me attached to the character even more. I also like the concept of a story being told within a story, which is essentially what Name of the Wind (and the whole Kingkiller Chronicle series) is. From the troupe of the Edema Ruh to the streets of Tarbean to the mysterious halls of the University, Kvothe recounts quite a story about his younger life. One gets the sense that Kvothe ends up being a part of a much grander story when his whole troupe is slaughtered by the Chandrian, a group of "demons" who tell him that his father had been singing "the wrong sorts of songs." In order to find out more about the Chandrian and to learn the "name of the wind," Kvothe eventually makes his way to the University after years of being a beggar in the large city of Tarbean. He's gifted and intelligent, and he ends up making friends and enemies. He also falls in love with a mysterious girl named Denna. The story certainly leaves one with a sense of anticipation. Overall, it was a pretty good novel. However, it wasn't perfect... For one thing, I like description. I like being able to picture something in my head, and I felt that this book was somewhat lacking in that area. I could usually make stuff out (or make stuff up) to be able to fill in the gaps, but that could be improved a bit. Also, I don't particularly care for the swearing and the crudeness, whether humorous or not, that is sort of smattered throughout the book. Furthermore, and I just have to be honest, there are things I don't like about both Kvothe and Denna; but I feel like that's not necessarily a bad thing. Although, I will say, Kvothe is a terrible name for the main character of a story. I had to look up how to pronounce it, and I wasn't really satisfied until I heard Rothfuss say it on a Youtube video. However, there are also elements I really appreciate. Kvothe's endurance and perseverence is impressive. I find this odd, but I can actually kinda relate to Kvothe and Denna's relationship a bit. I like how Rothfuss develops a very subtle idea through Kvothe's attempt to describe Denna's beauty, an idea that is almost entirely lost on our culture. I also like how Kvothe has character deficiencies and is being challenged to change those deficiencies, although I feel as though he's going to end up messing up somewhere along the line before he actually does change. Denna also has character deficiencies, and those will probably come back to bite her in some way as well. Again, overall, it's a good read, and I'm looking forward to reading the next one.

I read the reviews for this book, both good and bad, before purchasing it. I read it from cover to cover before sitting down to this review. This is a really good book in the fantasy genre, I wanted to give it 4 or 4.5 stars because I felt it was too 'modern' in style compared to Tolkien or even GRR Martin, then realized that it was my bias of the 'way things should be' and not the merit of the book I was reviewing. This book gets the full 5 stars with absolutely no reservations. The main character Kvothe is the kid with untapped powers that Harry Potter made familiar but Potter wasn't original either. He's a combination of a genius, quick learner, musical prodigy, and hopelessly incompetent with girls. I know all the people reading this are international gigolos who have to chase off Playmates with a stick, but I related to the awkward kid with a first crush who wanted with every fiber of his being to talk to the girl he liked and couldn't find the right words in the thousands of hypothetical dry-runs that worked through his mind. That was definitely a humanizing touch for a kid that might have been much more inaccessible to a reader due to his overall excellence. There were some criticisms of Kvothe being too perfect, but early and often he fails to do things he should, does things he shouldn't, and suffers consequences for them all, both internal and external. The writing style sets this book apart from the breathless action of pulp D&D style fantasy books, and for me seemed to be what I would describe as luxurious. We were taken along in the story with sufficient attention to details and world-building, but not overlong and overdrawn descriptions of every blade of grass, like a relaxing boat ride down a lazy river. Certain aspects, the history, the mode of magic in Kvothe's world, etc. got more attention but always added breadth and depth without overburdening the reader. Other times, Kvothe's life meandered down roads and pathways that didn't lead to the forging of a fantasy novel hero, just like real life. However, I was turning the pages every bit as fast as a pulse-pounding hack-and-slash story, but it was just to sink deeper into the world being woven around me. At least through the first book, it seems to have less world-building backstory than Game of Thrones, and wayyyy less than Tolkien, but I'm all the more glad for it. It's all fine and good to create your own syntax for elven, or dwarvish, or Klingon, but nobody's going to pretend that at 12 years old they knew what the hell Tolkien was talking about all the time. This was a nice, interesting, easily-consumed story that never felt burdensome or like a slog through x number of pages to get to a "good" part. If I had to nit-pick this book, just to appear fair, I'll give you 3 nits. First, it would be that the author falls victim to the fantasy-trope belief that in order to portray 'foreign lands' and people from them, there has to be a bunch of unpronounceable consonants jammed together to form a person or place name, or fragments of a language, and throw in some unaccountable apostrophes for good measure. I could care less if I never have to skip over another nonsense name like Cthystler'rn in a fantasy novel again. There are a handful of these in this book, but they never really take center stage or leave you in the lurch for not trying to decipher that gibberish. Second, sometimes the young Kvothe is frustrating in his impotence when trying to express his love for his off-and-on girlfriend, and you really think he's a putz, but his obliviousness never strays outside the realm of the believeable. Third, and possibly the most troubling (but not to me) is that by the end of the book you've done a lot and been on a lot of adventures, but nothing has really brought you noticeably closer to the overarching mystery that is the reason for the story in the first place. The lore of the Chandrian is doled out in such tiny morsels you really don't know much more at the end than you did at the start. In this aspect it definitely reads like the first book of a trilogy, but at 750 something pages it had plenty of heft and there's no way they could have trimmed it down without losing the charm and the luxury that I liked so much in the first place. Make of that what you will. I held out on ordering the second book in the trilogy due to some of the negative reviews, I'll have to grudgingly call them 'haters', that indicated that The Name of the Wind starts losing focus partway, or midway, or most-way through, but I didn't see that to be true at all. It was really a delightful read all the way through, and I wish I had more time to read more of it at each sitting. I did indeed order the second book in plenty of time for it to be here waiting for me, and I am anxious to get started on it asap. Bottom line: A definite 5 star book with a nice story in a world you won't mind soaking into for a while.

It's all but impossible to be a fan of modern fantasy writing and not know the name Patrick Rothfuss. Rothfuss's The Name of the Wind is a blockbuster of the genre - the kickoff to a trilogy named The Kingkiller Chronicle - and one of those books that's basically put Rothfuss in the same realm of respect and adoration as Robert Jordan and George R.R. Martin. And though I've been wary to start another big fantasy series (especially one that's been left without the final volume for so long, with little signs of its arrival anytime soon), something made me finally pick up The Name of the Wind, only to find myself devouring it with excitement, glee, and passion. So what is it that makes The Name of the Wind so enjoyable? At least some of that has to be chalked up to the book's general conceit: the retelling of the life of the mythic figure Kvothe, as told by Kvothe himself, now posing as a humble innkeeper in the middle of nowhere. Giving us the equivalent of a bard as a hero is a fun move, and Rothfuss takes that idea and runs with it, immersing himself in folklore, myths, legends, and storytelling as a theme of the novel, be that the danger of legends or the tendency to self-aggrandize. More than that, though, it makes the story itself part of the book's appeal, making the telling of the saga every bit as important as the events themselves. And that's good, because in a weird way, after you finish The Name of the Wind, it feels like little so much as a clearing of a throat and the setting of a table, even though the book itself never feels like that at all. The Name of the Wind is all about setting up ideas for later - it introduces ominous figures like the Chandrian, but never tells you much about them; it slowly lets Kvothe find his place in the University, finally finding his niche by the end, and then ends things; it sets up conflicts with antagonists, and then hints about the outcomes to come in later books...in short, it's all definitely the first volume in a series, with all of the flaws that come with such an idea. But somehow, Rothfuss makes the book satisfying, even while only giving you this opening third of the story, and much of that is the way he revels in the telling of a good story as its own end, not just a means to convey a plot. Rothfuss's characters are compelling and engaging on the whole (although there's a "rich jerk" character who never feels like more than that archetype), existing not just as steps along Kvothe's journey but people who existed long before the book began and who will live long after Kvothe leaves them behind. Whether it's a group of teachers whose internal feuds are obvious even before they're explained, passing companions on road journeys, or a wandering boy in the woods, Rothfuss takes the time to savor all of their voices and arcs, making clear that for Kvothe - and Rothfuss himself - the journey is the destination, and not just a way of telling us how Kvothe ended up here in exile. In other words, the reason The Name of the Wind works because it does the thing that makes fantasy so appealing: it builds and populates a rich world, brings its people to life, and lets you just wander among its roads. Rothfuss doesn't give you the brutal cynicism of a Martin or an Abercrombie, but he doesn't shy away from the nature of people either, and that honesty serves the book well, making the moments of kindness and generosity all the more effective and ringing, and the moments of nastiness all the more pointed. Is it an incomplete tale? Yes, and frustratingly so, especially as I think about how little progress it sometimes we feel like we made in Kvothe's tale by the end of it all. But is it a great story? It really is - and maybe that's what's really important about it.

Let me start by saying there is a difference in a novel being enjoyable and a novel being good. Enjoyable is subjective, good is not. For example, I did not find the Song of Fire and Ice series enjoyable (to nihilistic for my tastes), however, I recognize that it is very good. I found the Magician series by Raymond Fiest to be highly enjoyable and entertaining although I know it is not the most well written series ever. This book/series is a rare case of being both extremely enjoyable and incredibly good. The plot is engrossing, perfectly paced, and well thought out. I love the main character. Every time I pick up the book I slip into his shoes in under 10 seconds. It is so easy to feel what he feels as you follow his story. I find it incredibly refreshing that neither the problems nor the solutions to those problems require the characters to step outside of how they would rationally act in that situation. I find this to be the failing of so many novels (song of fire and ice being one of them). As I read the 1 star reviews, I can not help but think these people have low self-esteem. The common thread through most of these reviews is that the main character is to perfect. They hate that he is smart, a great musician, and can do magic. I personally enjoy reading about a great person overcoming the great problems the world presents. I want my heroes to be heroic, to be something to aspire to myself. I get that not everyone else does, the anti-hero is very trendy right now. The people who 1-star this series almost always hold up the song of fire and ice series as the opposite of the kingkiller chronicles, but don't listen to them. Like I said above there is a difference between enjoyable and good. The critics of this series are confusing not enjoyable with not good. They did not like the book therefore they think that it is bad. They want their anti-heroes in a world where everyone is bad guy and no good dead goes unpunished or the book sucks. It annoys me that these anti-hero books get the ironic label of being "more real" (its funny because they are fantasy novels). I don't not believe the natural state of man to be wicked and have found karma to me more real than nihilism. Look, if don't care about quality and are just looking for a book where everyone is a bad guy who hate life and everyone living in it then you probably won't enjoy this series. But don't call a book with a great plot, interesting characters, and well thought out themes bad. Just say you didn't find it enjoyable. That way we will understand that you simply have different tastes, and that you are not, in fact, stupid. After you read this series check out Brandon Sanderson's novels (Mistborn stuff and the amazing new Stormlight series).

Published in 2007, I had never heard of it until just recently. This is a truly amazing book, and well worth it’s consistently high regard among both authors and readers. The blurb didn't really sell me, but when I was deciding whether or not to purchase this book, I noticed that the negative reviews were written by people who are not really into reading for pleasure, and some of the negative reviews seemed written by moderately illiterate non-readers. To me, this is a mark of a classic—Tolkien, Jordan—all the great literary-fantasy authors attract 1-star reviews by people whose favorite genre is whatever is written on the toilet-paper wrapper. My instinct was correct—this book is a true classic, both literary and fantasy. The Blurb: The riveting first-person narrative of a young man who grows to be the most notorious magician his world has ever seen. From his childhood in a troupe of traveling players, to years spent as a near-feral orphan in a crime- ridden city, to his daringly brazen yet successful bid to enter a legendary school of magic, The Name of the Wind is a masterpiece that transports readers into the body and mind of a wizard. It is a high-action novel written with a poet's hand, a powerful coming-of-age story of a magically gifted young man, told through his eyes: to read this book is to be the hero. My Review: First, lest talk about the structure of this tale. I love the way Rothfuss handled dividing the story into two timelines. The first takes place in the present, described in third person. The second timeline is in the main protagonist Kvothe's past, narrated by Kvothe himself to a renowned 'Chronicler,' who is only called Chronicler throughout the book. Kvothe’s first mentor, the scholar 'Abenthy', who trains Kvothe in science and "sympathy", a discipline of causing changes in one object by manipulating another , teaches him the rudiments well. He is child of a famed troupe of traveling entertainers. A song written by Kvothe's father, Arliden, inadvertently draws the attention of the mythical "Chandrian," who destroy the troupe, leaving Kvothe alive but alone. He is posing as a simple man, an innkeeper named Kote. His tavern is cleaner than most, and with a good reputation. His assistant (and secretly, his student,) Bast, is a prince of the Fae, posing as a human in order to learn what he can from Kvothe, whom he truly cares about. The story of how he became the most feared swordfighter, magician, and musician, is gripping. He is rumored to have killed a king and somehow caused the present war. Rothfuss’s magic system is quite unique. It is complicated, but makes sense. The complexity gives it a sense of the mysterious, and I like that. Kvothe’s tale is hard, and loss of his family is something he never really accepts. It is gripping from page one, and once you begin reading it, you will have trouble putting it down. This is Epic fantasy with a capital ‘E’. If you have not yet read this, and you are a lover of high fantasy, I highly recommend you get your hands on it. I am giving it five full stars.

The Name of the Wind has been a favorite for some time. I’ve always been a huge fan of epic fantasy—something about a hero armed only with his wits and sword, one man against the rest of the world, is immensely satisfying to witness. In these cases, “suspension of disbelief” often manifests more specifically into a “belief that the hero will be good at everything and will come out unbattered in the end”. However, while unrealistic, I feel that stories where the hero is able to be superhuman in some aspects provides some inspiration for me in real life, which make those novels so much more fulfilling to read. In all these things, Patrick Rothfuss delivers excellently in this first installment of the Kingkiller Chronicles. The first thing that is extremely notable throughout this and the sequel to this book is Rothfuss’ writing style. For some authors, writing style is an incumbrance to the plot or character development, while for others it takes pleasure in stretching to its full flowered, majestic extent. Rothfuss falls definitively in the latter category, yet its artistry and thoughtfulness rivals most of the writing that I’ve seen (Granted, that isn’t very much. But still.). For Rothfuss, words are not only poetry, but they themselves are motifs that act as harbingers, signals for important themes, and invokers of specific feelings. The first chapter in The Name of the Wind is a prime example. The exact same chapter bookends every book in this series, with only a few replacements that resonate all the more strongly with the reader because of their glaring difference. However, most of the content remains the same so that it can call the audience back to the “state of the present”. That is, that at the end of the story Kvothe is telling, no matter how glorious his victories or brilliant his mind, he will ultimately become a weak, old innkeeper waiting to die. It is a chilling reminder that Rothfuss uses masterfully to bring more nuance to his writing. Actually, there is a section in The Wise Man’s Fear where Bast mentions that it is a tradition for the Cthaeh tree to be placed in the background whenever the play is a terrible tragedy. To me, this first chapter that repeats so often is a version of that, informing the reader of the comparatively horrible fate that Kvothe will suffer. It provides wonderful contrast: the reader knows he or she is reading an story fantastic and traditional in equal measures, so the ending is certainly a happy one. However, the constant reminder that the “ending” (as of now) is sad, leaves the reader ever more perplexed and fascinated as to how Kvothe’s story will end. This, while only being the first taste of Rothfuss’ command over metaphor and motif, provides a great example for what his writing is able to evoke. Throughout the remainder of the text, Rothfuss uses all manner of rhetorical devices in unimaginably clever ways, some of which only appear if the reader looks closely. I recall that one of Ambrose’s one liners is a casual declaration to an audience that Kvothe should know better, being “a member of the Arcanum”. Later on, Kvothe quotes the line back at Ambrose verbatim. Whether or not the reader picks up on this repetition, the complexity of Rothfuss’ language is clear. Moving past the writing, Kvothe is a fairly decent main character. As befits his trope, he begins his childhood learning skills (in this case, acting) that will inevitably be the key to his later success, loses his parents horribly, and proceeds to spend the rest of the books losing his naivety and trying to gain revenge. He suffers from chronic “Marty Sue”-ness (the ability to be unnaturally good at everything). Rothfuss tries to explain it away with his eclectic childhood education, but the fact remains that there’s no reason for Kvothe to be the most brilliant, most adept, and most talented young man in the Commonwealth. Heck, the only area that he acknowledges ignorance in is regarding courting women, and even that is resolved relatively quickly when Kvothe pays Felurian a visit in The Wise Man’s Fear. Further, despite his complete lack of military training, he trains with the Adem in the same book and manages to graduate from their school, a magnificent feat attributed to… his musician’s hands (and a lot of luck). What’s more funny is that Kvothe is known to often complain about his terrible luck, despite the fact that he has almost a video-game affinity to never die. However, one of the joys of reading about a character that only succeeds is that the reader is always confident that he will emerge victorious, whether that’s a good thing or not. However, the one redeeming factor Kvothe has is that the reader often gets to experience the less cocky, innkeeper version of his personality. This adds a second layer to his personality. Kote’s narration acknowledges that yes, Kvothe is naive and arrogant and ignorant, but it’s merely the first stage in the longer journey his personality takes. This helps undercut the characteristics of Kvothe that are more irking. Beyond that, however, Kvothe has a hilarious sense of humor, and coupled with his predilection towards practical jokes, makes him a hero that I love to cheer on. His grudge against Ambrose provides endless comic relief throughout the novel, and is a reliable form of amusement for both the reader and Kvothe. I recall a particular quote which summarized their relationship with such accuracy and Kvothe’s snarky attitude that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud: “To deem us simply enemies is to lose the true flavor of our relationship. It was more like the two of us entered into a business partnership in order to more efficiently pursue our mutual interest of hating each other” (loc 5541). Kvothe’s genius, while just as unrealistic as protagonists tend to be, is less disagreeable than usual because of the sheer grit he brings to the page. In addition, he does have a tendency to lose as much as he gains (though a line where Kvothe claimed to have poor luck made me laugh), which generally balances out his annoying tendency of brilliance. One of the most intriguing aspects of The Name of the Wind is how fascinating the side characters are. Auri captured my heart early on with her nonsensical musings and innocence. She, like Elodin, exemplifies the dangers and dark underside of the Arcanum. Even though her character doesn’t play a distinct role in Kvothe’s story arc, I appreciate her weirdness even more for that—she’s a character that Rothfuss came up with and then liked so much he couldn’t cut her out. The other masters at the Arcanum are equally distinct and interesting for their personalities. I really enjoy Master Kilvin’s sense of moral rigidness and Master Elxa Dal’s unwavering support and vague amusement at Kvothe’s intellect. Hemme’s irrational anger and Lorren’s grudge balance them out, and make Kvothe’s time at the University far from an easy ride. Further from the Arcanum, Devi is a personality that constantly surprises me (and Kvothe!) with her sharp tongue and wit combined. She’s an unexpected threat to Kvothe that keeps his ego in check and reminds him that rules are always subject to change. Despite her hard exterior, I appreciate the brief scenes that reveal her more heartfelt motives. The scene when she tries to gain entrance to the Archives (maybe this happens in The Wise Man’s Fear) tore my heart apart; her shady business and underhanded methods make so much more sense in the context of a woman who is brilliant and yearns to keep studying despite the mistakes that earned her expulsion. The Name of the Wind‘s meandering, lengthy, and epic storyline is an unmistakable triumph. This book is long, no doubt, yet Patrick Rothfuss uses it to his advantage. The scenes that appear in the beginning of the book are just as detailed as the ones that take place in the climax of the plot. As a result, whenever Kvothe reminisces about his days as a trooper or the short period in the forest after his parents’ death, the reader is impacted in a much more significant way than if Rothfuss had not invested so much of the book related details from Kvothe’s early life. I remember tearing up as Kvothe, a miserable beggar in Tarbean, finally cast back his mind to Cinder after hearing Scarpi’s tale. Like him, I remembered the details tinged with horror, though the padding of many pages had dulled even the sharpest edges. When Kvothe is playing The Lay of Sir Savian Trailiard in the Eolian, his ability to pull the edges of the song closed at the end was wondrous, yes, but entirely plausible. I too was able to recall the months spent alone in the forest all those years ago—distant, yet not alien— and dredge up the feeling of playing with a six-string lute. Short books are admirable for their ability to conjure up intense emotion with only a few hundred pages, but I have to admit that the immense context extensive novels provide is unrivaled. Kvothe’s adventures are fascinating, whether he is trying his hand in the Eolian, attempting to gain Master Elodin’s tutelege, or killing a draccus. However, one of the biggest overarching threads that I didn’t like so much in the novel was Kvothe’s pursuit of Denna. Denna is a complicated character. As the main love interest of Kvothe’s story, she has a lot to live up to, having to be Kvothe’s equal in a story that insists every other page that he is The Best At Everything. And to a point, she does live up as his parallel. She’s a marvelous singer with unmatched raw talent, full of grit in a cutthroat world, has an adventurer’s sense, and is unimaginably gorgeous. I don’t say the last lightly; I think Kvothe literally spent five or six pages trying to describe her before writing her off as incapable of being imagined. However, I have some qualms about how Rothfuss treats her, and all the women, in his story. Denna, Fela, Mola, Devi, and even to some extent, Auri tend to exhibit the same brand of sexual allure. Even women that Kvothe has no interest in have to be beautiful and attracted to Kvothe to some extent. Herein lies the issue: all the women are sexualized to some extent. It’s a detail that sits uncomfortably with me throughout the story, and makes me feel uneasy towards Denna’s character. Despite all the flaws I’ve just meticulously picked out, Kvothe’s story is still strongly compelling. I simply adore the magic system, both for its structure and the depth of detail Rothfuss goes into when describing it. He manages to straddle the line between pseudoscientific magic (sygaldry and artificery) and “magic magic” (naming), somehow managing to come up with a system that’s the best of both worlds. I appreciate Kvothe’s character enough to revel in his triumphs as the lowest of underdogs, and love his ability to think his way out of any situation he encounters, of which most are deeply intriguing. The Name of the Wind will remain a longtime favorite, and I eagerly await Doors of Stone… with the hope that it will, in fact, be released at some point in my life.

This hardcover edition of The Name of the Wind, the first book in The Kingkiller Chronicle, is a very premium-looking book with a classy and well-designed dust jacket. The overall build feels solid, and the page and font quality are good, making it comfortable to read for long sessions. As for the story, it’s easily one of the best fantasy novels I’ve read in a long time. The book follows Kvothe as he recounts his extraordinary life, from his early childhood with a traveling troupe to his time surviving on the streets and his journey into the world of magic and learning. The way the story is told—through memories and storytelling—adds depth and emotion to every chapter. What really stands out is the atmosphere, the music, and the slow unfolding of legends that surround the main character. It’s not just about magic or action; it’s about ambition, loss, and the price of chasing knowledge and fame. If you’re looking for a good hardcover edition of a beautifully written fantasy story, this book is absolutely worth owning and reading.

Weil meine Vorrezensenten schon die wertvolle Rolle übernommen haben, euch über den Inhalt dieses Buches zu informieren, kann ich mich von den gängigen Rezension entfernen. Deshalb möchte ich hier einige Punkte aufgreifen, die euch vielleicht noch weitere Blickwinkel auf den "Namen des Windes" eröffnen. Zunächst zum Sprachstil und damit zu einer großen Stärke von Patrick Rothfuss, dem Autor: Man kann sich bildlich vorstellen, wie jedes Wort gedreht, gewendet, geschliffen und für gut befunden wurde, bevor die Tinte der finalen Version aufs Papier kam. Ein solches Niveau ist nur durch Bedachtsamkeit und langwierige, schweißtreibende Überarbeitung zu erreichen. Dabei muss ich anmerken, dass dies zumindest nicht ausschließlich die Mutmaßungen eines Begeisterten sind, der ich zugegebenermaßen bin. Der Roman hat den Autor tatsächlich mehr als ein Jahrzehnt begleitet, bevor er in die Öffentlichkeit entlassen wurde. Als frischer Leser hält der Einstieg in die Trilogie eine durchweg spannende Erfahrung bereit. Oh, und ich beneide euch dafür. Nichts geht darüber, eine solche Auster im Bücherregal zu erblicken, sie vorsichtig zu öffnen und darin eine Perle zu finden. Doch beim zweiten, dritten Lesen geschieht euch ebenfalls etwas Wundervolles: Plötzlich werden Anspielungen und Verbindungen klar, hier und da fügen sich Puzzleteile zusammen. Ohne den ersten Lesedurchgang irgendwie zu erschweren, entwickelt die Geschichte so eine eigene Dynamik. Die Perle wird von einem Sonnenlicht getroffen, das Licht bricht sich darin und sie erstrahlt in ganz neuen Farben. Es ist schlichtweg faszinierend, wenn tief im zweiten Band Informationen einfließen, die Rückschlüsse zulassen, warum ein Vater relativ zu Beginn von "Der Name des Windes" eine Nacht unter dem Wagen verbringen durfte. Das ist einfach clever und trägt enorm zum Lesevergnügen bei. Ich habe "Der Name des Windes" oft weiterempfohlen und noch nie schlechte Rückmeldungen bekommen. Natürlich unterscheiden sich die Geschmäcker und man kann immer Makel finden. Trotzdem möchte ich zumindest jenen, die sich bloß vom Genre verunsichert fühlen, einen behutsamen Ruck geben. Ich würde euch raten, den Schritt auf das Eis zu wagen. Vielleicht werdet ihr feststellen, dass die Fläche meterdick fest gefroren ist und euch auch für die Zukunft Halt bietet. Gute Bücher verdienen es, nicht aufgrund ihres Genres abgestempelt zu werden. Gute Bücher sollten sich an Stil, Inhalt, Charakterisierung, Erzählfluss messen lassen. Und nicht zuletzt sollten gute Bücher gelesen werden. "Der Name des Windes" ist ein solches gutes Buch, möglicherweise eines der besten. Deshalb lege ich euch wärmstens ans Herz, der Geschichte eine Chance zu geben. (Als Bonus in Originalsprache, wenn ihr Englisch gut versteht.) Ich bin mir sicher, die große Vielzahl der Interessierten wird die Wahl nicht bereuen. Die einzelnen Enttäuschten können sich damit trösten, dass sie einen Autor unterstützt haben, der sich mit Zeit, Mühe und finanziellen Mitteln für eine wohltätige Organisation einsetzt. Wenn auch auf sehr indirektem Weg, dient der Kauf damit einem guten Zweck.

The book was not in new condition. There was discoloration and damage corners. Also very dusty.

Todo aquel que lo había leído me lo había recomendado mucho y finalmente decidí meterme con él para descansar un poco del último libraco de la especie “qué libros más raros lees” que me estaba metiendo entre frontal y occipital, y la verdad es que la primera lectura, en español, me gustó mucho. Narra a la historia de un cronista que escribe la historia de un tendero que cuenta la historia de un mago, y va alternando con astucia y brevedad entre los tres niveles como recurso para mantener el ritmo narrativo. De hecho, el propio nombre del protagonista, Kvothe, es un juego de palabras respecto a esta técnica narrativa, ya que se pronuncia, en inglés (idioma original) exactamente igual que “citar” o “cita” (quote). El universo que describe me recuerda mucho al de Terramar, aunque el estilo sea más directo y moderno que el de Ursula K. Le Guin; y la historia es atractiva, quizá un poco “culebronesca”, pero no todo va a ser Umberto Eco. Bastante recomendable, la verdad; no es Canción de Hielo y Fuego ni la saga Vorkosigan pero por ahí anda. Un buen libro para regalar con el que es muy difícil equivocarse. Hay que decir que unos meses después, tras comprarme The Wise Man’s Fear (no pude esperar a la traducción en español así que debió gustarme bastante más de lo que mi primera crítica dejó entrever) me lo compré en inglés y me lo releí. Es bastante mejor en el irioma original, hay muchísimos juegos de palabras y connotaciones que se te escapan cuando lo lees en castellano, y lo recomiendo mucho a quien pueda con él. Y recomiendo a quienes se lean El Temor de un Hombre Sabio que luego relean El Nombre del Viento. Te das cuenta de muchos detalles que probablemente se te pasaran en la primera lectura, como cual es el temor de un hombre sabio (pista: lo dice cuando le pillan con una vela en la biblioteca), ciertos detalles sobre los Chandrian sobre los Lackless (pista: la canción que canta cuando es niño y no se da cuenta de de qué va hasta que le pilla su madre) y algún otro más que no voy a contar aquí. Gana con la relectura, que recomiendo, y como ya he dicho es bastante mejor en inglés aunque la traducción sea buena.

Il libro è molto bello, scritto divinamente e costruito con molta cura. Il mondo di Kvothe è abbastanza complesso da non sembrare vuoto ma comunque non sufficientemente mappato da contare come personaggio per conto proprio. Toglietevi dalla testa Martin o Tolkien, questa è la storia di un unico protagonista e narrata dal suo pov. Da un lato questo semplifica la lettura, perché ti lascia tempo di acclimatarti ai cambiamenti nella vita del protagonista, i suoi viaggi e le sue avventure, dall'altro non ci vengono risparmiati tempi morti e punti di minimo nella narrazione. In 700 (~) pagine e qualcosa gli avvenimenti degni di nota si contano sulle dita di una mano...e senza nemmeno impegnare tutte le dita. La lettura non è noiosa, a mio parere, ma un po' lenta si. Per darvi un'idea, ho letto le prime 200 pagine del libro successivo e la storia è ancora ferma alla conclusione del primo volume. E c'è un altro problema, lo scrittore. Patrick Rothfuss è un secondo Martin, nel senso che i fan aspettano da troppi anni la conclusione della storia e l'ultimo romanzo è ancora TBA. Fortunatamente Rothfuss è giovane ma io personalmente mi metterei comodo per il terzo libro, qua la cosa andrà per le lunghe. Lascio comunque la 5a stella (non fosse altro per controbilanciare la recensione tarocca ad una stella qui sotto) ma ad un giudizio più obiettivo darei 4.5 o poco meno. Sia chiaro, per me i limiti del libro sono ampiamente stracciati dalle tante qualità della saga ma potrebbe essere solo la mia opinione. Buona lettura!