Mr. Rothfuss wastes little time in convincing us that his is an uncommon talent. The sheer dynamic range of this, the first novel of a trilogy, challenges the mind to define it: part coming-of-age tale, part dark fantasy, part redemption epic. However one might wish to categorize it, good, inventive fiction will suffice for me.
The Name of The Wind is, in the main, a chronicle of a great man's life. Kvothe, a hero of his world, has cloaked himself in anonymity and installed himself as the manager of an inn far from the seats of power. Beaten down emotionally, he's a tragic figure, a man who, it seems, events have reduced to a shadow of his former self. But when a chronicler, a recorder of history, comes to the inn, Kvothe is enticed to recount his life story to him, an epic which will take three days to tell. Mr. Rothfuss is not the first author to use his main character as the narrator of his own story, but it's handled here with rare deftness as the tortured Kvothe recedes into his own past to describe his gypsy childhood and, the difficult and penniless years of his adolescence, and his arrival at the great university where he excels upon the imaginings of his teachers. Throughout, we switch back and forth between the past of Kvothe's story and the present in the inn which seems to be plagued by various demons with which Kvothe is all-too familiar. Yes, this is a world with monsters and magic, but Mr. Rothfuss doesn't overuse or abuse them, a self-restraint which escapes most authors of fantasy fiction.
Mr. Rothfuss is, here, a bit self-indulgent at times. There are some rather spectacular events later on in the piece which seemed out-of-step with the realistic, gritty, fantasy tone he was at such great pains to establish. But these off notes don't ruin what is a clever, inventive and entertaining tale, its wonderful darkness tinged by moments of beautiful light. I am definitely anticipating the second installment. (4/5 Stars)
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