If you’re anything like me, COVID has been turning you into something of a recluse.
The one good thing about being a recluse is that, while you have a depressing lack of day-to-day social interaction, you nevertheless have a lot more time on your hands to do other things you wouldn’t normally have time for, like reading. If you’re a fan of fantasy novels like I am, you might consider The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss.
First published back in 2007, it’s an older novel and one that isn’t as well known as other fantasy epics like Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. Few fantasy novels are actually successful enough to break out of their growing, but niche, readership, and so those big names are the ones that are going to define the genre.
But The Name of the Wind, the first book of Rothfuss’s Kingkiller Chronicles series, is good enough that it deserves the attention of a wider audience.
The book takes place in a fantasy world called Temerant. Naturally, it is during the Medieval or Early Renaissance period (or some time analogous), and naturally there is magic. The setting is, in contrast to something like Tolkien, darker in tone and more grounded. The world feels relatively similar to our own, unlike the idyllic Shire or the shining city of Minas Tirith. Even the magic used in the setting feels more grounded, more akin to physics than simple wand-waving.
I wouldn’t go so far as to call the world “gritty,” because that word usually denotes settings filled with debauchery and self-interested cruelty and, while there is some of the latter at least, it’s nothing that would turn off particularly sensitive readers. It lacks the patina of faux-Machiavellianism associated with works like A Song of Ice and Fire. To me, it feels like the source material for Rothfuss’s rendition of medieval life is more Chaucerian than anything else.
The perspective character for most of the novel (light spoilers in this paragraph) is named Kvothe, a boy whose parents are killed by mysterious magical villains known as the Chandrian, the search for whom occupies most of his life and drives him to become a world-renown adventurer. The Name of the Wind consists primarily of an older Kvothe narrating the first part of the story to a scribe, with each subsequent book (The Wise Man’s Fear and a yet unreleased third book) continuing the story.
The first note I would like to strike in its favor is its wide audience appeal. I have never been a fan of the so-called “young adult” genre, specifically because I think it is a contrived marketing category and nothing more. The style, themes, story and prose of Name of the Wind is certainly, to my mind, intended for “adults,” but I would consider it to be “young adult” adjacent. In other words, it’s fairly accessible for anyone between 16 and 60. As a particularly finicky reader, I appreciated Rothfuss’s aim to mute or otherwise prevent the tropes of the genre from overtaking the story.
Another element Rothfuss excels at is the world-building. I truly love Tolkien as a writer, but you have to be really committed to understanding the ins and outs of the lore of Middle-Earth. He literally wrote an entirely separate book just filled with lore and history. The thing I found most impressive about The Name of the Wind was how seamlessly Rothfuss wove the ancient, mythical history of the world into the progression of the story and protagonist, primarily by making history and storytelling one of the central motifs of the work. By the end of the novel, you get the sense that you understand the major mythic and historical framing stories of the setting, and he didn’t have to stop the action for an exposition dump, but used reasonable and interesting plot elements to do so.
One more place the book does well is thematic extension. Kvothe is an entertainer by training, and this fact is generally reflected in the story itself which has a self-aware flair for the theatric.
I do, however, have a few criticisms.
This first point is not really a criticism, just a taste thing. I really like the romance subplot in this novel, which means a lot of people will not. In general, it gets points in my book for feeling neither contrived nor overly saccharine, and it’s a secondary concern in the plot. I found the narrator’s descriptions of the main love interest, Denna, not to be overly flowery or conventional, so it gets my endorsement for that as well. So all that being said, if you were expecting a story filled to the brim with romantic and sexual tension, you won’t find it. I think Rothfuss toes the line well between too much and too little, but other readers might not share that view.
Another criticism I have is that the world-building in the setting is interesting, but (in terms of the current events of the setting as opposed to history) fairly sparse. I sometimes felt myself at a loss to connect all the disparate nations and cultures in my head in a way that made sense. The mythic history of the setting was interesting, but sometimes inquiring minds would like to know more about the here-and-now in a book. I think part of the reason for this is because the story is told through a framing device, that being Kvothe telling his story to the scribe, and it would be unrealistic for him to suddenly break off and explain bits of geopolitics that all of the characters hearing the story would already know. So realistic, but frustrating.
The book is also particularly long. It comes in at around 660 pages in the hardback edition. If you want a short shot of fantasy adventure, this ain’t it chief. When you start reading The Name of the Wind you’re strapping in for a long-haul (and the sequel is even longer). And if you like the first book and intend on diving into the rest of the series, be forewarned that the third installment still has a “TBD” release date.
Much of the length comes down to Rothfuss’s expansive, heavily embellished descriptive style. If you’re a reader who finds clean material with dense meaning more appealing, The Name of the Wind is also probably not for you.
For something a bit shorter of a similar genre, I always recommend Jack Vance’s Dying Earth short stories.
The last criticism I have is the book’s latent antipathy towards organized religion. The main religion in the setting, Tehlinism, is meant to be a fantasy counterpart to Christianity and, at least in the first book, its clergy and practitioners are depicted as corrupt, inflexible and superstitious. I didn’t find it particularly distracting, but someone more sensitive about their religious beliefs might take issue.
Overall, The Name of the Wind is a great book to get into over the break, especially for readers whose only experience with fantasy stories comes from the big names like Tolkien and Martin.
Photo Credit / Amazon.com
I’d highly recommend it too, rich language, great storytelling, and the second book in the series is just as good, but the problem is the long awaited 3rd book… years and years… still waiting 🙁