I’m not a
huge fan of the fantasy genre but there are one or two classics that are right
up there including the Narnia Chronicles and Lord of the Rings. So when I was
invited to read this door stopper I was a bit hesitant. Did I really want to
commit to several ‘fantasy hours’ with an unknown writer? The shining eyes of its
recommender (cheers, Jay) pushed me over the line enough for me to sagely
commit to at least the first 50 pages. This is what I say to my students, too.
Give it 50 pages before giving up on it. Well, within the first 10 pages I was
hooked! (The first 10pp of the story, that is - I almost didn’t get there on
account of the fact that this particular book is a commemorative limited
edition hardback with a long winded self-aggrandizing author’s note. That was vile. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT read that part of the book if you happen across this 2017
edition. Unless you want to look at your favorite Hollywood actor with no make-up, in track pants, on the loo.)
‘The Name
of the Wind’ is a rollicking good tale! Hugely entertaining!! The protagonist
is perfect for this genre. So named ‘Kvothe’ is highly likeable. He is off-the-charts
smart but due to his age (15-ish) is naïve and vulnerable as he is making his
own way in the world. Of course, he has magic powers, but these are largely
unexplored and under-developed which can create mayhem on days.
The author
has ensured that all the fantasy boxes are ticked without being tedious or predictable.
Every ‘instalment’ has a cliff-hanger, page-turning ending, which can be a
problem if you want to eat, sleep, shop or shower! Several times I found myself
exclaiming aloud or even talking to the book. That’s right up there with idiots
who yell answers at the TV when watching quiz shows. Don’t they know the
contestants can’t hear them?
Another
reason I loved this story is the sporadic use of mischief and straight-up
humour. Life is too short to be miserable – anything that can bring a smile or
evoke a LOL is worth the investment. Rothfuss puts his capable finger on the
pulse of the human condition at every turn. He is, quite plainly, a solid
writer of merit. I say, get on board! I am gagging to read the sequel which is
right next to me on Jay’s kindle. Yee har!!
I was a curious child: quick
with questions and eager to learn. With acrobats and actors as my teachers, it
is little wonder that I never grew to dread lessons as most children do.
The roads were
safer in those days, but cautious folk would still travel with our troupe for
safety’s sake. They supplemented my education. I learned an eclectic smattering
of Commonwealth law from a travelling barrister too drunk or too pompous to
realise he was lecturing an eight-year-old. I learned woodcraft from a huntsman
named Laclith who travelled with us for nearly a whole season.
I learned the
sordid inner workings of the royal court in Modeg from a… courtesan. As my
father used to say: ‘Call a jack a jack. Call a spade a spade. But always call
a whore a lady. Their lives are hard enough, and it never hurts to be polite’.
Hetera smelled
vaguely of cinnamon, and at nine years old I found her fascinating without
exactly knowing why. She taught me I should never do anything in private that I
didn’t want talked about in public, and cautioned me to not talk in my sleep.
And then there
was Abenthy, my first real teacher. He taught me more than all the others set
end to end. If not for him, I would never have become the man I am today.
I ask that you
not hold it against him. He meant well. (p.55)
