Friday, 16 October 2015 05:45 pm
Book Review: The Wise Man's Fear
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deckardcanineIt's been more than four years -- longer than I thought -- since I read and reviewed The Name of the Wind. By the time I picked up this immediate sequel, I'd forgotten many character names, but I re-connected most of them to familiar personalities soon enough. To my shame, I'd completely forgotten every female character who was still relevant at the end of the first book. My memory must be sexist.
Fortunately, Patrick Rothfuss doesn't expect his readers to remember. And unlike J.K. Rowling, he doesn't simply repeat details as if stating them for the first time, apart from the prologues and epilogues, which are designed for symmetry. His characters have non-contrived reasons for saying enough to fill us in. If you decide to jump in without ever reading volume 1, you won't feel lost for long.
For those who don't care to look back at my link above (or maybe can't by the time they read this post), TNotW is a pseudo-medieval fantasy in which down-and-out hero Kvothe, now undercover as a small-town innkeeper, narrates his story to a scribe bent on getting the truth behind the legends. Many pages can go by without any fantasy premises coming into play, but that doesn't bother me. By its last first-person chapter, Kvothe is still a broke teen at a partly magical university, only slightly notable.
As I mentioned, my copy of TWMF has exactly 1,000 pages of story. That makes it possibly the longest paperback I ever read cover to cover, considerably longer than TNotW, which...took me more than twice as many days to finish. It helps that I set myself a quota this time, however loosely, and now do my reading at home instead of in transit.
But beyond that, I'm pretty sure I enjoyed TWMF much better. At no point did I think, "I really ought to pick up the pace or put this aside for another book for a while." Is it actually better written, or have I acquired more of a taste for the series?
Well, for one thing, Kvothe gets out more in volume 2. Although about half of it takes place at or near the university, he travels hundreds of miles; learns new languages and customs; and increasingly finds his own heritage, the fantasy equivalent of Gypsies, a two-edged sword at best. Granted, only one culture is exceedingly foreign (by our standards as well) -- two if you count his further dealings with fairies -- but it all broadens him.
Kvothe does seem to have a better time of it in his later teens, which helps in making immersively developed fiction palatable. I found myself laughing more easily, not just at humor but at sweet victories. He's certainly gaining in his already awesome abilities and, thereafter, fame. He finally learns a few things about women (at the hands of several loose ones). I think he benefits more from friendships than he used to. He even stops being dirt poor eventually.
Don't get me wrong: His moments of happiness keep giving way to downers. Almost every time he turns around, he faces some sort of opponent, breaks a rule by accident, or fumbles socially, often out of arrogance. He gets bored without, and sometimes with, a challenge. (Kvothe's narration does occasionally speed over events that, while interesting at the time, don't lend themselves to his idea of good storytelling.) And he's not much closer to his long-term goal of avenging his murdered family. I still don't know what happened to make him as bleak as he is in the present, but it's not hard to imagine what might.
Oh yeah: In the present, Kvothe's assistant, a fairy in disguise, really hopes that Kvothe will return to his vivacious old self in the course of telling the tale. He detects some progress but sees fit to privately threaten the scribe's life over any counterproductive line of inquiry. Alas, something in the second day's telling nearly crushes all their hope of a happy ending.
I am now very curious indeed what Rothfuss has in store for the finale. In all likelihood, I'll feel ready for more of the Kingkiller Chronicle Trilogy in less time than before.
Meanwhile, in honor of the late Oliver Sacks, I've borrowed Musicophilia. I liked The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, so this should be good.
Fortunately, Patrick Rothfuss doesn't expect his readers to remember. And unlike J.K. Rowling, he doesn't simply repeat details as if stating them for the first time, apart from the prologues and epilogues, which are designed for symmetry. His characters have non-contrived reasons for saying enough to fill us in. If you decide to jump in without ever reading volume 1, you won't feel lost for long.
For those who don't care to look back at my link above (or maybe can't by the time they read this post), TNotW is a pseudo-medieval fantasy in which down-and-out hero Kvothe, now undercover as a small-town innkeeper, narrates his story to a scribe bent on getting the truth behind the legends. Many pages can go by without any fantasy premises coming into play, but that doesn't bother me. By its last first-person chapter, Kvothe is still a broke teen at a partly magical university, only slightly notable.
As I mentioned, my copy of TWMF has exactly 1,000 pages of story. That makes it possibly the longest paperback I ever read cover to cover, considerably longer than TNotW, which...took me more than twice as many days to finish. It helps that I set myself a quota this time, however loosely, and now do my reading at home instead of in transit.
But beyond that, I'm pretty sure I enjoyed TWMF much better. At no point did I think, "I really ought to pick up the pace or put this aside for another book for a while." Is it actually better written, or have I acquired more of a taste for the series?
Well, for one thing, Kvothe gets out more in volume 2. Although about half of it takes place at or near the university, he travels hundreds of miles; learns new languages and customs; and increasingly finds his own heritage, the fantasy equivalent of Gypsies, a two-edged sword at best. Granted, only one culture is exceedingly foreign (by our standards as well) -- two if you count his further dealings with fairies -- but it all broadens him.
Kvothe does seem to have a better time of it in his later teens, which helps in making immersively developed fiction palatable. I found myself laughing more easily, not just at humor but at sweet victories. He's certainly gaining in his already awesome abilities and, thereafter, fame. He finally learns a few things about women (at the hands of several loose ones). I think he benefits more from friendships than he used to. He even stops being dirt poor eventually.
Don't get me wrong: His moments of happiness keep giving way to downers. Almost every time he turns around, he faces some sort of opponent, breaks a rule by accident, or fumbles socially, often out of arrogance. He gets bored without, and sometimes with, a challenge. (Kvothe's narration does occasionally speed over events that, while interesting at the time, don't lend themselves to his idea of good storytelling.) And he's not much closer to his long-term goal of avenging his murdered family. I still don't know what happened to make him as bleak as he is in the present, but it's not hard to imagine what might.
Oh yeah: In the present, Kvothe's assistant, a fairy in disguise, really hopes that Kvothe will return to his vivacious old self in the course of telling the tale. He detects some progress but sees fit to privately threaten the scribe's life over any counterproductive line of inquiry. Alas, something in the second day's telling nearly crushes all their hope of a happy ending.
I am now very curious indeed what Rothfuss has in store for the finale. In all likelihood, I'll feel ready for more of the Kingkiller Chronicle Trilogy in less time than before.
Meanwhile, in honor of the late Oliver Sacks, I've borrowed Musicophilia. I liked The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, so this should be good.