The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

Kvothe is a man of legend.  Marveled at for the lives he's saved, and cursed for those he's killed, and sung about for those he's loved, a hero of days gone by has retreated from his brilliant past to take on the duties of an inn-keeper under the name "Kote" at a small establishment called "The Weystone."  As Kvothe polishes his cups and counters a man called the Chronicler is making his way on dangerous roads to request the story of a man as misunderstood as he is remembered from the hero of the legends himself.  The Name of the Wind is the first of three days Kvothe spends telling his life's story to a historian and a student who can only hope this great man's journey doesn't truly end in a quiet tavern.  The seven words to make a woman love you, dragons, drinks, folly, futility, infatuation and bravery make up the epic ballad of a man  larger than life, and a story richer than kings.

I simply can't begin to express how sincerely I enjoyed The Name of the Wind Day One of The Kingkiller Chronicle.  I haven't read a book in such a while that truly seems so...bardic.  The framing used in the story is reminiscent of The Arabian Nights and brings a rich reality to the telling of the story.  I simply cannot wait to read the second of the series, and count down the days on my calendar to...oh, um, until maybe he announces when it will be out but there isn't any news right now and his website said to wait and he didn't like withholding information and there'll be news when there is....

Anyway, there's so much I could say about a book like this.  It was brilliant, beautiful, funny, tragic, romantic, tender, exciting and all around glorious.  But what I want to say, what I really want to bring up, is the lead of this book, Kvothe, he wins.  There.  He did it.  He, with just the first installment mind you, has just beat every young, starry-eyed orphan hero in fantasy book history for being the single most, perpetually screwed over character in existence.  Feel free to challenge me on this, I would love to read any number of other fantasy books about a young kid who got traumatized, whipped, starved, robbed, stabbed, ignored, heart-broken, burned, knocked-out, threatened, told to jump off buildings-ed, did, and generally, well, screwed over than him, please let me know, because if so, authors are growing far too cruel (CLAMP).

But putting aside all of that fun, the book was remarkable.  Nothing makes me happier than seeing some true bardic poetry come to the telling of stories, I haven't read much like it in the way of beautiful writing since The Lord of the Rings, and there isn't much of a greater compliment I can give than that.  "It was night again.  The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts. ... It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die"  (pg.  1-2).

Total pages: 722
Number of Flying Platypus Tea Cups: 10/10