title: The Name of the Wind
author: Patrick Rothfuss
genre: Fiction, orphan, revenge
suggested by: Taylor S.
dates read: September 30th – October 7th
review: 5 out of 5 stars
summary: Kvothe, while now a well known man of many legends, started out his childhood in a traveling troupe. His father and mother are both performers and he picks up many talents from them. After being introduced to “sympathy,” the process of linking the energy from an object to change and manipulate another, it becomes clear that Kvothe is an extremely quick learner and has a sharp mind. His ultimate dream is to make it to the University, where he’s been told there are ten times ten thousand books. Narrowly escaping an attack on his troupe, which leaves him the lone survivor, Kvothe makes his way to the city of Tarbean, where he learns to beg and steal. Eventually he makes his way to the University, and finds it to be what he expected and so much more.
personal thoughts: My friends like to recommend extremely lengthy books. But this was another good one, though I should know better than to look up the goodread reviews before finishing (no, I didn’t read any spoilers). I liked the style of writing, how it went between first and third person as Kvothe shared his story with Chronicler. I did see people’s point about his seemingly inflated view of himself. But really, what person has a truly objective outlook on their own story? I didn’t really think it took away from the epic-ness of his tale. And since it’s a work of fiction, I don’t really care how accurate the story is. Anyway, I actually found myself getting nervous when he was about to perform at the Eolian and felt sympathetic whenever Denna disappeared. I felt that Rothfuss presented a likable character in Kvothe, someone I rooted for, mostly, and grew fond of as the story progressed.
“Everything said, you couldn’t hope for a nicer day to have a half dozen ex-soldiers with hunting bows relieve you of everything you owned.” p. 18
“’If I seem to wander, if I seem to stray, remember that true stories seldom take the straightest way.’” p. 52
“He had a bright, reckless tenor that was always wandering off, looking for notes in the wrong places.” p. 65
“I grew thinner and more ragged. I slept in rain or sun, on soft grass, moist earth, or sharp stones with an intensity of indifference that only grief can promote.” p. 127
“Plainly said, he was giving me enough rope to hang myself with. Apparently he didn’t realize that once a noose is tied, it will fit one neck as easily as another.” p. 257
“So I played for both of them, while overhead the stars continued in their measured turning.” p. 468
“Moving was a lesson in punitive anatomy.” p. 587