The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

Book 1 of The Kingkiller Chronicles

Rating: 4 out of 5

If one were to describe a book as a “Harry Potter for adults” or a “darker, grittier version of Harry Potter”, it may be enough to make readers cringe and avoid it like the plague. Let’s see…. A gifted boy who is suddenly orphaned and subsequently finds himself studying in a university that teaches magic (or sympathy, as it is called in the book). Sound familiar? A tad unoriginal? True, maybe. In fact, this book is a throwback story similar to the times when stories of orphan boy-magicians became redundant and tiring. But then, Patrick Rothfuss, on his debut work, has succeeded in placing his own touch on the story and transports the reader into a tale of legends, heroics, demons, gods, and most of all, magic and music.

The Name of the Wind is the story of the legendary Kvothe (pronounced “quothe”), or rather the story of his beginnings. Kvothe, at the beginning of the story, is now called Kote and is living his days away from his past, tending to his Waystone Inn along with his assistant, Bast. One day, a man called Chronicler comes into the inn and discovers Kote’s true identity. He appeals to Kote to tell his life story. With reluctance, Kvothe begins to tell his tale. It is the story of a boy who grew up blissfully among his father’s troupe of artists and musicians, going from town to town to perform. He invites into the group a magician (or arcanist, as they are called in the book), Abenthy who sparks in him a strong interest in sympathy, in which Kvothe proves to be some kind of a prodigy. Abenthy also plants in him the idea that one day Kvothe might want to enter the University, where sympathy is taught.

Kvothe’s blissful life comes to a crashing turn as he comes home one day to find his camp burned and everyone he loved dead in what seems at that time, an unfortunate chance encounter with brigands. Left alone in the woods by himself with only his father’s lute, the only thing he salvaged from the wreckage of his life, he finds that he has a greater talent for music that anyone ever dreamt possible. He soon lives the life of an urchin in a city, learning to survive its mean streets until one day, he decides to take the biggest chance of his life and apply for entrance to the University, in which he makes it through. Here, Kvothe learns of power, determination, mischief, bravery, loss, desperation and friendship. He learns of the things that will drive him all his life – his magic, his music, and the woman that will haunt his heart. He will learn of names and the name of the wind.

The Name of the Wind with its story, in itself, would have been unremarkable considering this is a setup book for the next parts of The Kingkiller Chronicle trilogy, but for the amazing prose of Patrick Rothfuss which is elegant, intelligent, witty in the right places, at the same time simple and straightforward. But most of all it has passion. And it is this passion that speaks to the reader and tugs at the heartstrings that pulls one in. One would be hardpressed to find another work that speaks with so much beauty. The Name of the Wind is not just a book, it is a lovely piece of music. Consider the following passage, which is one of the most facinating introductions of a character:

“I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night in Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight than others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make minstrels weep.

You may have heard of me.”

Still, being a debut work, it has its faults. There are parts where Rothfuss indulges upon more than he needed to, making the book somewhat overly long. There are also parts in the beginning where the story seems to start to take off and then suddenly come back down again jarring the readers out of their momentum. And some of the resolutions to issues early in the plot somehow seem forced. These would have taken away from the quality of the book if not for the beauty of Rothfuss’s writing and the enigmatic aura of his main character. The Name of the Wind is also written mostly on a first-person narrative; therefore, as expected, most supporting characters are not developed. For example, Kvothe describes two of his University companions as his closest and staunchest friends but that feeling never comes across to the reader because little time was spent with them.

And there are other issues, this being the initial book of a trilogy. First of all, Rothfuss approached his story differently in which he did not go right away to his main plotline but started literally at the very beginning, explaining the background of the story of the boy who will one day become Kvothe and dedicated the entire first book to that. No big plotlines were started therefore no plotlines are resolved, and by the time it ends, the reader is left with more questions. Consequently, the main character is hinted at being this legendary, enigmatic figure but yet the Kvothe that we see in the story is not yet the man he is to become. One can only read the introduction passage of the main character and ask, “When are we going to see that Kvothe?” The reader can also see many interesting glimpses of the world where Kvothe belongs, but isn’t given the whole picture of it as a whole and is left wondering “What more is out there?” But these really are not faults of the book or Rothfuss’s work but rather a testament to the compelling writing of the author that he was able to grab the reader’s interest and transport them inside the story and makes them ask for more.

In a way, Rothfuss has succeeded in putting the readers in the shoes of Chronicler as he listens to Kvothe, and like Chronicler, the readers find themselves waiting eagerly for when Kvothe tells the next installment of his story.

A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

Book 1 of A Song of Ice and Fire


Rating: 4.5 out of 5

When one thinks about fantasy novels, how many times can one point to a landmark event happening for the genre? There was a time back in the 80’s and early 90’s when lots of fantasy authors arrived on the scene but, as it turned out, put out the same stuff over and over again. It was almost as if people were taking a template and add a few variations, dress up characters in their own personal ways and, voila, you have your own fantasy novel. This is quite ironic when you realize that the name of the genre is fantasy. Where the only limitation is supposed to be one’s imagination, an opportunity of making modern myths and legends, where ideas can run wild.

Back then, you pick up one fantasy book and what would you see? You have this hero, usually young, usually an orphan. He finds himself unwillingly thrust into a problem that forces him to be “chosen” to fulfill a quest, along the way trying to overcome obstacles as a test of his skill, wisdom and character. He usually does this with a few companions. There is usually a wise old mage who acts as his mentor. There is also usually a cool-looking fighter who lends a hand when the going gets tough. And there is usually a bumbling idiotic sidekick for comedic purposes. Once the quest is completed, our hero usually obtains a powerful tool, whether a weapon or some other magical artifact. And with this tool, he uses it to defeat the Dark Lord who threatens to destroy the world as they know it. He would win, because it has been prophesized (a prophesy can’t be wrong).

When A Game of Thrones, the first book in the “A Song of Ice and Fire” series came out, the fantasy world had no idea of what was hitting them. First of all, the story is more like the ones you see in a historical fiction shelf rather than fantasy. In fact, one of the inspirations of the book is The Wars of the Roses of 15th century England.

Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, the northernmost realm, is forced to move to the capital, where he puts his family at risk, in order to be the King’s Hand to his friend King Robert Baratheon. Robert and Eddard had previously led a successful revolt against the erstwhile ruling Targaryens which led to Robert being proclaimed King. But Robert’s queen, Cersei, supported by her family, the Lannisters, wants her son to be in the throne instead and does everything in her power to see to it that such a thing will come to pass. This subsequently leads to a struggle between the Starks and the Lannisters as both families prepare for a confrontation and possibly war.

However, two children of the Targaryens still live and they are not prepared to give up what they feel as rightfully theirs to the usurpers and killers of their family. They build up whatever forces they can muster in another continent and plan for the retaking of their former kingdom. And while all of this is happening, an ancient enemy is preparing itself in the North, waiting for the right time to descend upon the Seven Kingdoms.

Here, there is no young orphan going on a quest for a powerful weapon, but a huge cast of characters from whose points-of-view is the story told. Each of these characters is not entirely good, or entirely bad. You have supposedly heroes, who do bad things, and there are supposedly villains who are likable and understandable in their own ways (is there such a thing as a good villain?)

Martin also does not sanitize his story like authors have done in the past. As previous authors probably target audiences in the young to young adult category, Martin considers his audience as mature enough for him to tell his story as they are. This is a world not unlike our own medieval times, so there is violence at the tip of a sword. And sword-fights are supposed to be gory and bloody. There is also a lot of swearing and cursing. And furthermore there is sex (and incest), once a taboo in fantasy.

And as if all these things weren’t enough, George R.R. Martin does a good job in making the reader care about each different character... and then he kills them off. He breaks off from the tradition that protagonists never die and by doing so, the reader truly now does not know what to expect each time the page is turned. All bets are off, anything can happen because now. As Martin himself once said, when one of the characters is in danger, there is the real possibility that that character will die. And Martin created a world where magic is just low-key and subtle and not fantastical so that characters in deep trouble cannot use magic to take them out of logjams.

George R.R. Martin has beautifully written this work and places a lot of foreboding, symbolism and intricate plotlines that one of the fun things to do while reading this work is try to figure out what the future of the story would bring by reading into the small clues that Martin expertly placed along the plot. This fantasy novel can actually double as a mystery book. Be warned, though, this is the opening book of the series and a lot of answers can be found in other books of the series as the story develops and as of yet, it is still unknown how many books would comprise the whole story. In fact, A Game of Thrones leaves lots of plotlines unresolved which might frustrate a few readers who want at least a major plotline resolved by the end of the book. In fact, nothing has been resolved in this one as A Game of Thrones is a big setup to the whole story itself.

Epic in scope, but turning away from the whole “heroic fantasy” formula, and breaking the rules and traditions of the usual fantasy stuff, this book signals not only the beginning of "A Song of Ice and Fire” series, but also the beginning of a whole new direction for the fantasy genre, opening the floodgates to whole new possibilities. This might just be the most important event in fantasy since Frodo and his friends started on their journey to Mt. Doom. In A Game of Thrones, George R.R. Martin has given a sense of renewal to fantasy by, ironically, making it as real as it can be.

Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erikson

Book 1 of the Malazan Book of the Fallen

Rating: 4 out of 5

When an author decides he should write a fantasy epic (aren’t they all epics?), they immerse themselves in one necessary activity: world-building. The author creates a continent, maps out the location of the different kingdoms and cities and determines their culture (usually based on some historical culture, frequently Western European, but more exotic kingdoms may be based on Eastern European, Middle Eastern or North African cultures. A few rare ones are Far Eastern). Then the author determines where the other non-human (or “demi-human” for the RPG crowd) cultures are existing. This means the required Elves and Dwarves and some other race seen in the usual fantasy stuff. A brief synopsis of history is developed to give the created world its soul. And then the pantheon of gods is defined, which defines its personality, morality and ethics (in doing so, it classifies the world and its creatures in black and white. Either you’re good or you’re bad). Then its cast of main characters are placed, who usually may incorporate one or more of the prototypes usually found in fantasy epics. For sure, there will be a quest, a prophesy, a Dark Lord who must be defeated.... Well, you get the picture. In recent years, there has been a move from authors (like George R. R. Martin, for example) towards a departure from the usual fantasy story elements that has been so overused and gearing towards a less fantastical, more gritty, and more “realistic” world.

Now, here comes Steven Erikson. When he decided to build a world, he decided to really build his world. And he decided to define it in what is planned as 10 standalone but interconnected novels in which Gardens of the Moon, Erikson’s first novel, is the first of these books.

“Epic” doesn’t even begin to define his creation. A world whose story spans continents and epochs, a huge ensemble of characters, both seen and hidden, all contained in a complex and pleasantly convoluted storyline that one can’t even begin to attempt to summarize without losing one’s mind. Gone are the usual elements in fantasy writing. There are no elves, no dwarves or your usual non-human races, instead Erikson creates his own list of non-humans. There is no quest here, only a world at war with itself for many years. And Erikson drops the reader right in the middle of that war without so much as a warning. And there is no sanitized version of combat here. Erikson describes war in terms of violence and gore. It hurts like hell when a fireball is cast at you (imagine yourself being hit by napalm).

In Gardens of the Moon, Erikson shows us his world through the eyes of a large cast who have their own storyline threads which only converge at the very end of the book. We follow a group of elite soldiers known as the Bridgeburners, as they jump from one suicidal mission to another in the service of the Malazan Empress, Laseen, who seems to be determined to kill all of them since they are associated with the previous Emperor, who she incidentally assassinated to get to the throne. We follow Ganoes Paran, a young Malazan captain as he takes over command of the Bridgeburners in their current mission in Darujistan, the last of the Free Cities coveted by the Malazan Empire. We follow the personages of Darujistan as they prepare themselves for the coming inevitable assault of the empire.

Gardens of the Moon is not for everyone though (and this is definitely not a fantasy for kids), it demand a lot of its readers. It will probably turn some readers away as there are so many events, so many personalities (including gods who involve themselves in affairs of mortals, and mortals who aspire to ascend to godhood just like it was the next step of existence only a few can attain), so many complicated threads that it is sometimes dizzying. Characterization suffers, too (the writer has little room to develop his characters as a result). The author has managed to blur the lines between black and white making everyone grey. No one really knows who the real good guys here are. Heck, unless you’re paying attention, no one is really sure who’s doing what to whom. And Erikson never takes the time to explain things. He leaves you questioning until you can figure out the answer a few chapters and one week later. This can be both good and bad as there are no dragging exposition parts but can leave the reader really lost. It probably would help if you try to read this not as a story of a character or a group of characters as they go through situation after situation trying to solve an issue, but as an on-going history of a world that is told through the eyes of each character in the book.

If you can hang on and push yourself past the daunting task of reading Gardens of the Moon, you will be rewarded in an amazing journey through a jaw-dropping, thoroughly amazing world that is so rich and unique, unlike any other world seen in fantasy before. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, just the first book. And if Gardens of the Moon is any indication, it’s going to be one hell of a long, bumpy and wonderful ride.