The Name of the Wind: Kingkiller Chronicle, Book 1
27.700 valoraciones globales
porPatrick Rothfuss
Arthegarn
5,0 de 5 estrellasVerdaderamente bueno.
Revisado en España 🇪🇸 el 3 de diciembre de 2012
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.
un lector
3,0 de 5 estrellasRazonablemente entretenida pero desde luego no una obra maestra.
Revisado en España 🇪🇸 el 25 de septiembre de 2022
Primera parte de una trilogia que, a día de hoy, lleva años inconclusa. Es una novela estructurada en episodios que van formando una especie de Bildungsroman.
El principal problema es que el protagonista es una fantasia de poder. Todo lo hace bien, es el mejor en todo, sus errores no tienen trascendencia. Por poner un ejemplo, recibe multiples palizas que no parecen dejar secuelas permanentes,
No hay personajes femeninos con entidad y de hecho, las dos veces que se presentan mujeres fuertes pasan al papel de damisela en apuros.
Pasas un rato entretenido y poco más.Primera parte de una trilogia que, a día de hoy, lleva años inconclusa. Es una novela estructurada en episodios que van formando una especie de Bildungsroman.
Pasas un rato entretenido y poco más.
440 valoraciones totales, 225 con reseñas
Pedro Passo
2,0 de 5 estrellas I love this book but it didn't came in the best conditions
I really like this book, the story I mean. I read it online a few years ago and decided it was time to add it to my book collection so I bought it.
Unfortunately, it didn't came in the best conditions. As you can see in the pictures, the cover is full of scratches and there are some faulty corners.
Cristina Matrero
2,0 de 5 estrellas Embalaje pésimo
El libro sé que es genial porque me lo habré leído en español como 3 veces ya y esta edición especial es preciosa pero el embalaje ha sido desastroso (una triste bolsa de plástico de éstas de correos) y el libro me ha llegado con los bordes tocados y lo he comprado como "nuevo". No cuesta nada meterlo en una cajita creo yo para que llegue en condiciones.
2,0 de 5 estrellas The Name of the Wind
El papel corresponde al de una edición barata. Es sorprendente lo poco que pesa el libro. No es a edición más apropiada para coleccionar.
Duncan Douglas
2,0 de 5 estrellas An "okay at best" type of book
When I purchased this book four years ago, it had over 4,000 reviews. Now it's nearly double that, and I cannot imagine why. I have let it stew in my head for quite a while now; it's been at least three years since I finished it, and I just started the second installment a few days ago. I enjoyed the first well enough by the time I'd completed it, even plowing through the last third or so, because it was pretty effortlessly entertaining, all things considered. It keeps closely to the rhythms of standard YA fantasy, so any familiarity with that genre ensures that "The Name of the Wind" will make for comfortable, if unchallenging, reading. This is unfortunately the majority of the praise that can be given, and oddly enough is also the crux of the novel's problems.
"The Name of the Wind", I have realized after much deliberation, is one of the most derivative books I have ever partaken in while still being assured of its higher-than-abysmal quality. It's not a terrible book, but by all rights it's pretty lackluster, even poor. Cliche after cliche comes sailing at you, never subverted, at least not as cleverly as Rothfuss thinks, and you are left wondering if there will come a twist in which the narrator, Kvothe, is revealed to have been lying all along about his identity and is simply some innkeeper weaving a tale out of the scraps of the exploits of other, more talented men. In the beginning of the second book, he is disappointed that a character doesn't believe his surprise revelation about his origins, which he has kept under wraps due to a price on his head, but even I can scarcely believe him, as it turns out.
Kvothe's tale checks off every single box on the "YA adventure fantasy" checklist, despite this ostensibly being more of an adult fantasy. Kvothe himself is the same ultimate badass with a tragic backstory in Rothfuss' frame story as he is in Kvothe's recitation of his past; it would have been interesting to see a disparity between his persona he creates in the story within the story as compared to Rothfuss' depiction of his character as an innkeeper, but they are one and the same. Instead of Kvothe writing a fanfiction of himself, it seems Rothfuss is also on his side, wanting to impress how cool he is upon you. Rothfuss writes like he's scripting an anime, which doesn't fit at all, considering there's apparently a live action adaptation currently in production. By this I mean everyone over-emotes in an exceptionally twee and jarring fashion; a character will go from confused to forlorn to cautiously cheerful in the space of a couple sentences, and each emotion is described as if they should be accompanied with a cartoonishly large drop of sweat on their forehead or a kawaii blush of parallel red lines beneath their eyes. They will bite their lips, arch their brows, wince in dismay, and huff with disappointment, or let their "face go carefully blank", all at once. Characters in literature do not need to have their every tiny gesture alluded to; I will understand perfectly how the character is feeling about the situation, and then Rothfuss will spell it out for me with some distracting tidbit about them rolling their shoulders in anticipation or shifting their eyes in alarm, which just feels juvenile. If I tell you that a character is upset or alarmed or happy, or put them in a situation in which in would be obvious that they would have such a reaction, it would be unnecessary for me to notify you of their hyperactive facial expressions and posture each and every time. Not to mention these characters are all recognizable archetypes that fit neatly into their predetermined slots in the story. The two comic relief friend characters, the stock bully, the couple of love interests who are, of course, the most gorgeous "waifu" types in the entire kingdom, one bubbly and accommodating, one mysterious and flaky (and of course it's the latter that is Kvothe's love interest, because of some deeply immature preconception that playing hard to get and treating someone with mistrust and apathy is romantic and not a clear sign that you should search elsewhere. She likes to show up to tease Kvothe, even though her personality can be summed up with "snarky and aloof" and all the rest is just Kvothe trying to make her seem more appealing than she is with pathetic, drooling descriptions of her beauty and "tantalizing draw" due to her mysterious nature. I can't go along with this at all, he's just being played for a sucker), the kindly old mentor, the immaculate, attractive, angelic parents (more on them in the next paragraph), and the fey, whimsical characters who are essentially Ed from Cowboy Bebop, especially the waifish Auri, who was graced with a spin-off. No matter if their personalities are defined in the next book, it's just poor writing to have them all be so generic for nearly 700 pages. They are not characters who feel like people, like "ASoIaF", or even "Harry Potter", they are archetypes that do very little to define themselves outside of their broadly drawn roles. And again, this isn't just because Kvothe is downplaying their roles to inflate his own importance or anything, he is constantly giving them credit for how important they are to his story and how big an impact they made on him. Bast and Chronicler, two characters listening to Kvothe tell his tale, are exactly as broad and archetypal, meaning this is Rothfuss' doing and Kvothe is not to blame. Bast, in fact, is one of the worst examples of the twee I mentioned earlier; he is the mischievous trickster to Kvothe's unflappable coolness. He will partake in antics, fawn over Kvothe to the point where it's coming across as befuddlingly flirtatious, and is quick to anger, his expression can darken in an instant and he will threaten to eviscerate you, manling.
The plotting may be my biggest issue, however, and really the concept in general. Kvothe's backstory, his motivations for trying to become the very best that no one ever was, are so insultingly basic, so manipulative and lame, that they are the main reason I am hoping in the second or third part of this chronicle it will be revealed Kvothe is just a sham. He attempts to passionately embellish seminal events in his youth as if they aren't utterly rote at this point, as if we have never heard another story like this in our lives. Indeed, the beginning of the second book has Kvothe remarking that he wants to tell "stories you've never heard before. Stories you will never hear again." Except that Kvothe's stories are everything you've ever heard before, and most certainly will hear in the future, because his template is every single coming-of-age fantasy revenge going-to-wizard-school in recorded history, with no interesting twists on the formula whatsoever. What Kvothe asserts as his reasons for this entire tale being told are two: his parents, two blank slates of goodness and talent and charity and beauty (I'm surprised they weren't feeding fawns and chickadees out of their palms) are killed by the big baddies, the Chandrian, who are just edgy bad no-no guys, just an evil entity. So Kvothe has the same motivation as Bruce Wayne. That's it. His parents were nice, and they were killed. No depth, and you'd think if Kvothe wanted to represent the memory of his parents fairly and respectfully, as he claims, you'd expect some depth. It is so enormously frustrating to see this easy ploy used over and over again, as if it isn't more interesting to have the character be motivated by his own ambitions or personal insecurities; no, just kill off some expendable characters to put the fire in his belly, it's that easy. Kvothe wasn't set up to be that character at all, from all I'd heard before reading the book, he was a sort of antihero, everything he did was because he wanted to, he was this larger-than-life character who would stop at nothing to get what he desired, like Daniel Plainview. But no, Rothfuss felt like playing the "my parents were killed in front of me" card, such an unnecessary explanation that does the opposite of what it's supposed to do, that is, humanize the protagonist. But even with how weak that cliche is, it's nothing compared to the second motivator, deemed by Kvothe himself to be the "real reason" he is who he is, has done all that he has done.
You may have heard of the section of the book in which Kvothe is an orphan fighting for survival in the alleys of a city. This portion is 70 pages long, and it serves no purpose other than to depict Kvothe as a man who has suffered, a badass who has been through tragedy and filth and humiliation; he's been at rock bottom. It wasn't really needed for it to go on for such a span, but I guess Rothfuss really wanted to drive the point into the seabed. Still, the length for me was not the problem, it's only 1/10th of the book after all. But one night Kvothe is in his little alcove several stories off the ground, and he hears a commotion below him in the alley. He witnesses (or rather hears) a young urchin being raped by slightly older urchins. He is not familiar with any of them, it is just a random occurence for which he happened to be present. And this is his greatest motivation in life to excel, superseding his parents' deaths. Yep, that's what Rothfuss is going with. He actually played the rape card, the most desperate attempt to shock the reader into submission. You can try to say something like "that just represents Kvothe's motivation to not accept this life for himself, to break out of his despair and become something great." A random rape triggered this? Terrible things happen daily, but because you were exposed to one that had nothing to do with you, that's your motivation? It's one of the weakest excuses I've ever come across, so impersonal and so heavy-handed, literally anything could have worked in its place. I cannot adequately express my frustration with this type of storytelling. The fact that Kvothe claims this is his reason for his entire life playing out the way it did instead of inevitably ending, probably sooner than later, in that city, is absolutely pathetic and insulting to the intelligence of every reader. It's so contrived and shallow, it's indicative of atrocious writing. When in doubt, throw a random event into your story so the main character can have a motivation. The rest of his life, as far as I've seen, has nothing to do with the theme of rape, so this connects to the entire story not at all, it's just useless fluff to manipulate the reader. Like as soon as a rape is involved, you can't criticize the author or the character, because it's a trump card even when it's entirely pointless and out of place. A characters motivations should be linked to them in some meaningful way, it should ripple throughout the rest of the story and come into play in their actions and emotions. It's not the fact that there was a shocking scene in the book that offends me, to be clear, it's that Kvothe considers that one-off random event, of all things, to be what fuels him. What a joke.
Other than that, "The Name of the Wind" is entertaining, albeit in a very familiar way. I hope the second novel isn't quite so egregiously lazy with its cliches and maybe attempts something nearer to the edge of the box, if not totally outside it, in its 1,000 pages. I wrote this review as a sort of refresher on my thoughts going into "The Wise Man's Fear", and my argument is that this first book is deeply average at best, embarrassing at worst, though I found it decently entertaining. I enjoyed the voodoo magic system of linking one item to another of varying sizes, and the relish with which Kvothe describes playing the lute makes you want to try it for yourself. There are a few setpiece moments that reek of Kvothe humble bragging, but they are at least fun to visualize. The "dragon" that eats trees towards the end makes for a well-paced, exciting climax. I just wish my impression was more in line with the praise it has received and continues to receive, because I did want this to rank with "ASoIaF" or "Lord of the Rings", as one critic claimed. To me, it brought to mind how "Eragon" was just a YA "LoTR", rife with cliches and painfully derivative, but not horrible. "The Name of the Wind" is basically that for "Harry Potter", which makes Ursula K Le Guin's appraisal of this book but damnation of Rowling's series all the more baffling. Rothfuss is a better writer than Paolini...but not by too much. I don't regret reading this, and I might again sometime to see if my opinion changes at all, but regardless, it's a seriously overhyped book.
EDIT: The second book so far is the same deal, so much so in fact that I'm having trouble continuing it. Rothfuss' world- building is resolutely threadbare; I'm often confused where the characters are supposed to be if they are in between main locations, because very little in the way of setting detail is given. Rothfuss, again, seems to think it of greater import to describe the telegraphed emotions of the characters through their facial gymnastics. I have not met a group of characters quite as skin-deep as these since reading chapter books as a kid. They are insufferably cloying and predictable and their attempts at humor make me cringe. One of Kvothe's friends is essentially a bumbling Ron Weasley clone with absolutely none of the charm Rothfuss thinks just comes packaged with that archetype. And yes, the love interest is one of the most unlikable tarts ever. She uses everyone as a means to an end, EXCEPT of course for our dashing hero. Towards the end, she gets pouty and actually says "I thought you were different" to Kvothe when he blurts "love me" by accident. That is genuinely a scene in this critically lauded, alleged "modern classic" series. Every time I pick it up to make progress I am assaulted by how contrived every plot point is ("I need you to fetch my important ring back...from the bully!"). I do not recommend this series at all, it's like saccharine Harry Potter fanfiction.
2,0 de 5 estrellas This guy must know someone in the business...
Well, I'll start this out by stating that I accept the fact that my review will likely not sway that many would be readers out there, not with the huge amount of hype surrounding this book and a five-star review from Robin friggin'-Hobb on Amazon.com. That being said, I just slogged through over 700 pages of thoroughly mediocre writing and feel that I'm at least owed the catharsis of an honest review. Why only two stars, you ask?
First, to describe this as 'dark fantasy,' or even adult fantasy, is completely inaccurate. None of the major characters die or even suffer in any meaningful way. There is a large period where Kvothe lives on the streets in a port town, but the danger doesn't seem particularly real or threatening. The worst thing that happens to him while in this 'dark' period, and I'm not exaggerating, is that some bully breaks his little wussy lute. Oh, the humanity! Kvothe spends more time mooning over some manipulative woman than he does fighting or casting spells (or shooting bows, or riding horses, or traveling, or any of a number of things we love reading about in fantasy novels). I don't mean to say that this novel needs to be non-stop action, but there is a word for books where the protagonist spends most of his energy courting a woman: romance.
And this brings me to the second of my huge problems with this book. Kvothe's love interest, a completely unlikeable woman named Dianne, or Deanne, or whatever (she goes by different names, see, because it's so terribly difficult to be pursued by so many men). Actually, almost all the characters are unlikeable, with the exception of a few of Kvothe's classmates at the University and some of the more rustic characters at his inn. Dianne strings Kvothe along throughout the entire book, and like some pathetic fool he just jogs along behind her, hoping for some sort of attention. She leaves him without notice, dates other men incessantly, complains about what it obviously an easy life, and just generally behaves poorly. It would be even more irritating if Kvothe himself weren't so insufferable. The guy is good at EVERYTHING, and when I say everything, I mean it. Medicine, magic, bartering, history, geography, business, thieving, horse-riding, acting, singing, playing the lute, fitting in with commoners as well as the nobility. The book never says anything about sailing or swimming, but I'm sure that if there was a nautical scene he would have had a chance to teach some 60 year old ship's captain a thing or two. I never once considered him even remotly believable. I know that this is a fantasy novel, but you at least expect the characters to act realistically within the framework the author sets up. I mean, this kid (and he is - at the time of the novel, he's between 15 and 16 years old) spends the first 12 years of his life in a 'troupe,' essentially a traveling circus or performer's group. Then, he spends three years living on the streets as a half-starved beggar/thief. Finally he manages to get to the University and b.s. his way in at a young age, and instantly he is great at everything. I could go on and on about Kvothe, but I'm getting irritated just writing about him. All I know is that when you're book is essentially a character study, it really helps when the character is likeable or at least interesting.
Another major complaint about this book is how conveniently the author muddies up technology to suit his needs. You'll have one scene where people are using torches, riding horses, drawing water from wells, etc. Then in the next, Kvothe the Stupendous will casually refer to a physiological concept not discovered in our own universe until the twentieth century. A character will be looking at clouds and describing the shapes they see, and Kvothe the Omniscient will silently think that he knows the weather patterns that these particular clouds portend. This is a trait you see in writers who are so immersed in our own culture of technology and conveniences that they literally cannot conceive there was a time when no one knew much of what we consider common knowledge today.
Fine, you say, but I read this author's work for the characters. The problem is that the characters themselves often act irrationally or almost randomly. With the exception of the metrosexual protagonist, there is no real consistency from one scene to the next with their behavior or even style of speaking. In one particular scene a secondary character, who for the length of the novel has been depicted as a friendly, handsome, womanizing young man, launches into this bizarre threat against a relatively well-intentioned scribe. His threat is very well written, almost poetic, but is completely inconsistent with his personality and totally out of proportion to the subject at hand. Imagine if part-way through "The Two Towers," Samwise threatened some harmless fool with dismemberment and death for asking why hobbits like to eat so much. It would just be...weird.
All in all, this book is well below average. The author clearly has a great vocabulary, but as far as I'm concerned he has a real problem with character development, creating an interesting or unique world, and coming up with a compelling plot. I give this book a very, very qualified two stars.
A. Couto
2,0 de 5 estrellas Is it a story if it has no plot?
For those looking for a short review, I can't recommend this book. Although it has several positive attributes, for me it failed in what I consider the most basic measurement of a story - a plot. After 663 e-pages, I'm was unable to identify a coherent plot line. It left me frustrated, and after reading the reviews of book 2, I've decided not to spend another $10.00 to buy a second premium-priced e-book that several reviewers liked less than the first. I suggest you avoid the series altogether.
For a longer review, I will start by acknowledging that it was a pleasure to read a properly written and edited book after suffering through so many poorly written self-published novels. Author Rothfuss is adept at using language to create a complex, textured world in the mind of a reader. This is evident from the very beginning, and I was hopeful that same mastery of language would also apply to story-telling. It did not.
Every book, including those in a series, should have a distinct plot line of its own, consisting of all five parts of a plot (beginning, rising action, climax, denouement (falling action), and resolution. This is true even if a book is part of a larger story. The Harry Potter series is an excellent example of this, especially the first few books. The Name of the Wind fails spectacularly on this point. It has almost no plot of its own, but is a series of subplots and side plots, many of which are left unfinished at the end and require the reader to continue with book 2 for answers. I suspect they may not be there, either.
The narrative is essentially a story within a story, and a third of the way through it still isn't clear which one is the primary story line. The lack of clarity on this point created an unpleasant tension that stuck with me for a significant portion of the book and detracted from my enjoyment of the story. It was well past the halfway point before it became obvious that the story within the story was the main story, and not the other way around. Having a story within a story is a perfectly acceptable way to write, as long as the reader understands what is happening, But the muddled way Rothfuss does it here is a significant distraction.
As if to highlight this failed strategy, beginning at the 27% mark (page 174) there are 19 pages devoted to a story within the story within the story. Which means at that point the author had devoted 10% of it to a third-tier story, which had only tangential relevance to the other two stories. The relevant information could have been conveyed with the appropriate level of texture and detail with a fraction of the words dedicated to it.
And this demonstrates the other major short-coming of the book, although some might consider it a strength. There are many sub plots and side plots, adding both texture and detail (a positive), but which also adds to the blurriness of the already-opaque story line. In stories with a properly developed plot, sub plots and side plots add texture and detail while also contributing to the main plot in some tangible way, such as introducing relevant characters or explaining backstory or as part of character development. In The Name of the Wind, the lack of a solid plot-line means these sub plots and side plots have nothing to contribute to. It is entirely unclear which of them, if any, will have any impact on the eventual resolution of this story. Which in turn begs the question, did they have to be included?
The last - and least - of my complaints is with the development of the protagonist, a character who is besieged with bad luck and enemies at all times but who survives because of a nearly superhuman intellect and other talents that he is apparently born with. All of his misfortune is due to outside influences, and every good that happens to him is because of his innate (and unearned) abilities. He is better than everyone else in every way possible, but is held back by all the negative forces outside of his control that are aligned against him. And to top it all off, he is constantly breaking rules and lying to those around him, even to those who care about him. The unspoken justification is that his luck is so bad that he has to break rules and lie simply to level the playing field. Even in a fantasy world this dynamic is a bit fantastic.
A lot of readers will enjoy this book (and the series) because the fantasy world is so well developed and the writing is evocative and compelling. I personally can't get past the fact that there simply is no story. It is 663 e-pages of winding narrative with no clear direction. Questions raised in the first ten pages are never answered. Hints throughout the book suggest it is all preamble to the actual story. Right up to the bitter end I anticipated something that would pull it all together, make it all make sense. It never happened. And now, left with the option of forging ahead into book 2 with the hopes of finding it there, or cutting my losses, I choose the latter.
If you like well-written narratives with no plot and unlikely protagonists, then this book is for you. It's not for me.
Jonathan Gosselin
2,0 de 5 estrellas Mildly entertaining, but no more
Revisado en Canadá 🇨🇦 el 24 de agosto de 2016
Warning: this review contains some spoilers.
When I finished The Name of the Wind, I thought it was mildly entertaining, but no more. Over the past year I've read a half-dozen fantasy novels I thought were better or even much better. I cannot understand why this novel has so many glowing reviews, so I decided to detail the reasons why I seem to be an exception.
To begin with, the novel is told in the first person, and almost all of it is from the perspective of the main character, Kvothe. I'm not a fan of novels written in the first person, but it is the latter that I found especially disappointing. I grew up reading and loving fantasy novel series such as Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman's Dragonlance Chronicles, Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time, and George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. One things those series' novels have in common is that they feature multiple viewpoint characters. I very much enjoy that, as I love to read about events from the perspective of different characters, with different personalities and motivations.
Still, I could have forgiven that point if Rothfuss had managed to infuse characters others than Kvothe with depth and distinct personalities even while telling the story from Kvothe's perspective, but he failed at that. Nearly all other characters come across as underdeveloped at best, and flat cardboard cutouts at worst. Special offenders in the latter category are the teachers and other students at the University who hate Kvothe. They seem to exist only to use their greater authority or wealth to cause trouble for Kvothe, which they gleefully do at every opportunity, and that's it. There's nothing more to them.
Speaking of underdeveloped characters, this unfortunately applies to the main female character and apparent love interest, Denna. It seems Rothfuss wanted to make her intriguingly mysterious, but couldn't manage to write her as more than frustratingly mysterious. At first she just flits in and out of Kvothe's life while she's with other men, and we can't get a good sense of her personality, though we are repeatedly told how incredible she is. When Rothfuss finally has Kvothe spend an extended period of time with Denna, she ends up still being hard to read personality-wise, she flat-out lies to him, she never openly acts on her attraction to him, and eventually she abandons him when she could easily have guessed where he went and followed him.
Later on we learn she's put Kvothe squarely in the middle of the friendzone while she keeps forming and discarding relationships with other men, to their sorrow and hers, while Kvothe insists people shouldn't judge her for her inconstancy because she's a 'wild thing, a summer storm' and it's just her nature. By that point I was hoping Kvothe would decide she's more trouble than she's worth and switch his romantic attentions to another female character, one who's obviously attracted to him, inclined to act on it, and would almost certainly make a steadier, more reliable relationship partner than Denna. And while reading all of this, I kept thinking that a few chapters from Denna's perspective might well have done wonders to let readers understand her better and make her more sympathetic.
Finally, Kvothe's perpetual money problems became outright tiresome by the end of the novel. Toward the book's middle, it looked like Kvothe would finally be able to improve his finances thanks to his music, but he was prevented from doing that. Then, in the buildup to the book's action climax, Kvothe discovered two potential sources of great wealth, but ended up with neither. He did manage to earn a bit of money, but only enough to improve his situation from disastrous to precarious. You'd think a character as clever as Kvothe would be able to devise and implement some sort of get-rich-quick scheme. By the book's end it really felt like Rothfuss was going out of his way to keep Kvothe poor, and the prospect of having to endure yet more of his financial woes in the sequel is a definite point against buying it.
All in all, when I read Robert Jordan's The Eye of the World, or George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones, or Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings, I understood why those books and the series they're part of became so popular and so loved by so many people. The Name of the Wind, on the other hand, just left me baffled as to its popularity. If you want to read what is IMO a truly great beginning to a new fantasy series, I heartily recommend Jonathan Renshaw's Dawn of Wonder.
2,0 de 5 estrellas A fairly typical fantasy story
Revisado en los Estados Unidos 🇺🇸 el 8 de octubre de 2013
I limped along through this story. It earned enough respect from me that I finished reading the book, but not enough for me to really consider reading the second book.
I think that Patrick Rothfuss is an omnibus of fantasy writing technique. He throws out this obligation to a symmetry of threes which is repeated a number of times very early, as if he wants desperately for you to know he's doing it. He tosses out poem after poem right at the beginning, as if to say "yeah, I can do Tolkeinesque poetry too, see!" I stumbled through these parts thinking, "Okay, whatever, try to find your own identity." I was a little put out that he needed to give his lead Rand Al'Thor-ish red hair and a Richard Feynman-like intellect, especially since the vast, encyclopedic knowledge the character has access to seems very ill-earned early on. A caricature of intelligence. I almost put the story down entirely when the character pulls the Law of Cosines out of his ass and, worse, uses it poorly even though the author presents him as using it correctly (yes, there are some people out there who know the Law of Cosines who are reading your books... and worse, some of them can use it in their heads and will check your math on the spot).
Some of this was redeemed when the story hit its stride at the University. Kvothe's uncomfortably supernatural intellect ends up getting him in enough trouble that I was willing to keep reading. I liked the early encounters with the character Denna but was ambivalent about the author's continued blunt-fisted attempts to analogize her to the wind. I again almost put the book down when the author began pulling this crappy trick of trying to look erudite by misusing physical principles he clearly pulled out of the ether of google-U (No, gas does not have surface tension... you need to be able to form a surface in order to have tension in it and gases do not form contiguous enough structures, even if they do interact with themselves. I'll grant you viscosity, because they do have viscosity as they flow, but it's tiny and based upon bumping into themselves.) I would hold this garbage up as an example of what authors should not do if they want to hold a high-level audience; if you start using real things and phenomena in your stories, you'd better understand what they are and how they work because getting that wrong is going to cost you with people who know what these things are. And the mistake might be egregious enough to overshadow anything you've done correctly... the more times you try to fake it, the more likely you'll screw it up and people remember screw ups first.
There was a long section where the author takes a major sidetrack away from the University in an attempt to regress back to what he intends to be the overarching plot of his series, I was happy with some elements here, but I was disillusioned that the only truly awesome climax of the book came ten percent before the actual end of the book and had no really clear effect on the story after that point. The character's long awaited clear use of "naming" after that was anticlimactic.
While I know that there's an attempt at ingenuity with the story-within-a-story structure, the pattern reminded me a bit too much of Assassin's Creed, but without the clear direction. Some people will like this complexity and might feel that it brought greater connection between what Rothfuss was writing about at that moment and where the series may eventually go, but I thought it distracted from the pacing and flattened critical moments. It referred me too clearly to my impressions of Assassin's Creed and I felt instantly that it was not very creative. It also felt like some of it was added to try to respond to editorial complaints about story screw-ups in certain early sections, which was also distracting to me. As such, the plotting is very episodic and disconnected and meandering and does not feel tightly focused, which is more my preference in a story. My early impression of the character was one of dislike, which did not help. This work struck me as very derivative and written by someone who has spent a monumental amount of time workshopping and inbreeding his craft and learning what the "expectations" of the Fantasy genre are and is desperate to become a successful writer but lacks the something-something to really stand apart. Maybe obsessively hard work does get you someplace, but it may deposit you somewhere at 50th percentile or lower when compared to true greatness, like Tolkein or Robert Jordan or GRR Martin. I eked out the conclusion of book one, but I'm not going to pick up book two --he had his chance.
(Written later: Having allowed the book to sit for a week since I finished reading it, I'm thinking this response is a little scathing. I still won't read book two, but I think it possible that people with less of my background may find this story more appealing than I did. My feelings on finishing this story were of betrayal of trust: I shelled out money for this book and it periodically showed elements that promised much more than I feel that I got. I kept reading it and kept limping through, kept hoping that this snappy piece of character interplay would lead to something to truly infect me. And it never happened. I limped through some 700 pages of typical hoping to see something I would fall in love with, but it never happened. If I'd ended after 50 pages, I would feel less betrayed and less negative, but I slogged through the whole thing, finding just enough warts to keep me from enjoying the experience. It certainly isn't the author's fault that the book is a poor fit for me in particular. You may see this in what I've written above.)
F. WANG
2,0 de 5 estrellas The triumph of Mary Sue (or Gary Stu)
I was actually quite surprised by how many people actually like this book that much. I probably underestimated the power of Mary Sue characters. Apparently a lot of people still really like this kind of perfect people doing amazing things in fantasy genre. My major issue with this book is its main character Kvothe and his many adventures.
Kvoth is perfect in every possible way, even flaws (his arrogance or naivete) are portrayed in a positive light. He is extremely smart, when I say smart, I don't mean IQ 180 kind of smart, I mean "arguably the smartest the person in the world" kind of smart. Early on in the book, the author spend entire chapter describing how he learnt the most difficult language in 1 week, and how he deciphered a complicated code in mere hours. He's extremely talented with music at a very very young age, not only he can play songs, he can play emotions, he can play scenery, he can play 7 string lute with 2 string broken, he can play THE most complicated song with 1 string broken and still stun his audience and won the price. He's handsome (that goes without saying, all fantasy people are handsome, unless they're bad guys or unimportant peasants). He is the youngest to be admitted in THE university (seems there's only 1 university in this fantasy world), and he's the youngest to receive a highly regarded credential, and he's the one who achieve that credential in the shortest amount of time. I can go on and on and on about how amazing and absolutely awesome this person is.
The book also created bunch of supporting characters, much like the Harry Potter books. All the good guys adores Kvoth, and all the bad guys hate him. You can basically separate good guys and bad guys not by their own deed, but by their attitude towards Kvoth. Everything happened to him happened out of bad luck or malice of bad people. He always thrived triumphantly against devastating disasters. Even when he made mistakes out of his own arrogance, the book go extra miles to justify his action, throw in a villain to take the responsibility for Kvoth, and make everything all sympathetic again for him.
Halfway through the book, I have nothing but loath and disdain for this character, not because he's a villain, but because he's the most self-important and arrogant little brat I have read, and the book worship this guy like some kind of demigod, giving him all the excuses, removing all his responsibilities, creating all the opportunities for him to be awesome.
What's not helping is that I was reading A dance with Dragons at the same time, and the comparison makes the book even more unbearable. On one hand, I have amazing characters like Cercei and Arya with incredible depths and personality; on the other hand I have Kvoth, with his incredibly unbelievable smart and talent, and being love by all the secondary characters through out the book. On one hand, I have the complicated interpersonal relationships between multiple characters with love, hate, lust, manipulation, betrayal all tangled together, you don't know where love stops where betrayal starts; on the other hand, I have the black and white, hate him or love him, 2 dimensional relationship that Kvoth seem to enjoy with the people around him, and the most juvenile puppy love that's probably only a little bit better than Twilight.
Character development aside, the book is also annoys me to no end with its endless rambling. I do believe the principle of "show not tell". The author not only tell too much, he felt the need to justify his narrative every step of the way. For example, Kvoth went through a tragedy early on as a child and he wandered the woods in a numb state for a while. The book have to constantly remind me "oh I'm just a little kid, I went through such horrible tragedy and I'm totally numb". Yes I know, I just read that chapter 10 minutes ago, I didn't suffer amnesia and forget all about it! Don't tell me you're numb and sad, show me. The book justify Kvoth's every action, every plot twist, as if the author is not confident at the intelligence of his readers and he feel the need to explain it again and again.
All in all, the book is a huge disappointment with its tedious narrative and abysmal character development. I absolutely do not want to keep torturing myself with further reading.
2,0 de 5 estrellas Some interesting ideas derailed by a mountain of unedited prose
Revisado en los Estados Unidos 🇺🇸 el 29 de diciembre de 2013
I am honestly baffled by the huge number of glowing reviews for this book. There are so many that I began to think I must be too thick-witted to grasp the brilliance right in front of me. But those few dissenting reviews highlighted exactly the same flaws I found, so I'm heartened to discover I'm not alone. Thus, I will add my own thoughts to the small but passionate pool of dissenting opinions.
I read this book on my Kindle, so it wasn't immediately obvious to me how many pages the story is. However, it went on for so long that I looked it up (over 600) and I can surely believe it. Don't get me wrong; length is not a problem in itself. Fantasy writing has a long and proud tradition of highly verbose but excellent stories. Nevertheless, editing is critical to create a proper pace, and this book is sorely lacking in that department.
I don't want to put spoilers in my review, so I'll stay away from specific plot detail. One thing we learn fairly early on is that the main character is set in opposition to a mysterious and powerful race of dark beings. They are well-written: properly sinister and intriguing with unknown motives. I knew I would enjoy learning more about their origins and desires along with the main character. Unfortunately, that never happened. A few bare, nearly meaningless hints are all that the reader is given to mull over the evil that is clearly set up to be the tale's grand confrontation.
Instead, the reader gets heaps of description of everything else you could possible think of but not care about. What it's like for travelling performers to set up a show in a hick town? Check. How many pennies a street urchin would have to steal to buy a heel of bread? Check. The color of the fifth shirt the main character bought after ruining his fourth? Check. Some inkling of why those shadowy folk are skulking about in a young man's life? Not so much.
Not that the story is all bad. I did finish it, after all. The world of the novel provides an interesting view of "magic" as various practical and explainable phenomenon, not unlike how gravity must have seemed to mathematicians in the generation after Newton. And the idea of following a heroic tale without skipping any of the real-life aspects, while not unique, is certainly a worthy theme for a fantasy novel. But the failure here is that the story tilted way too heavily on the "daily minutiae" side of the scale. It takes somewhere around 100 pages before the inevitable, life-altering event befalls the main character, even though it was obvious from about page 50. But at least this problem gave that part of the story some discernible arc. For much of the novel, the character is merely narrating his dire straits and struggle to survive. Some amount of this is justified as background for a formative influence on his character, but the 100 pages of it we are treated to really grind the story to a halt.
Pretty much the entire novel progresses (or should I say fails to progress?) in this manner. I truly believe this novel could be edited down by 75% and not lose any of the interesting ideas it presents. And yes, I do get the irony of a review complaining about a slow pace in a story with an explicit goal of telling the "real story" and not just the "fairy tale" version. But there's a reason stories need editing: the audience shouldn't have to spend as much time hearing the tale as the main character spent living it. The first rule of any good story is to make sure the audience is always engaged, and sadly this story fails spectacularly in that regard.
That I took the time to write this review is actually a strange sort of praise for the potential this story showed. If it were just plain bad, I would have stopped reading and dismissed it without a second thought. It was because I was intrigued with the ideas at the heart of this story and the world it introduces that I kept reading, always hopeful that the tale would fulfill its promise if I just persevered. And perhaps it will in the other installments of this series, but I will not be taking that journey. If I really want to know how an idea panned out years down the road, I'll read the summary on Wikipedia. I'm all slogged out just getting through the first part for so little payoff.
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