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A review by wellworn_soles
The Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss
1.0
The Wise Man's Fear is the second installment in the Kingkiller Chronicles, and if you've read my glowing review of its predecessor,[b:The Name of the Wind|186074|The Name of the Wind (The Kingkiller Chronicle, #1)|Patrick Rothfuss|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1515589515s/186074.jpg|2502879], you may be wondering if that star count up there was an accident. Really, one star? What changed? Did the writing really go down hill that badly?
Well, no. Not really. In fact, Patrick Rothfuss's mastery of the English language is just as evident as in the first installment. With only two novels under his belt I feel it's safe to say he has a way with words. The man can make Kvothe eating stew more captivating than many authors can make whole novels. Rather, it was not so much the quality of the writing that was lacking as the content of the novel, which is strange in and of itself. Most of the time, if anything, you find a book that has a really great concept but doesn't have a talented or experienced enough writer behind it to really suck all of the marrow out of the concept. Here we have a brilliant up and coming author whose pacing and prose seems to come as naturally as breathing, and yet the book itself, for all its 900+ pages, really doesn't have much substance. The first novel gave us many questions but few answers, and, much to my disappointment, the second book answered... none of them. In fact, it hardly worked towards any of them, spattering mention of them across its great sea of pages without really finding much of anything definitively. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The Wise Man's Fear continues where its predecessor left off, with Kvothe studying and being generally really amazing at the University. He's hanging with his friends he made in the first book, scrounging for funds, and getting in and out of trouble, just like he did in the first book. In fact, a good chunk (365 pages) of this second novel seems like a rehashing of the first book, with a few changes. Kvothe starts a class about learning the true names of things under the eccentric tutelage of Elodin, and he makes some slight progression to his ultimate mission of finding the Chandrian and exacting his revenge, but his progression bears no fruit. He asks some questions and looks for some answers, but it's played as an afterthought rather than being at the forefront. I understand Kvothe has other things going on in his busy life, but Rothfuss can't simultaneously tell us this is his ultimate goal - his whole reasoning for going to the University - and then devote maybe fifty to a hundred pages total to it during this whole first part of the book. That's some intense mixed messaging, and while I was lulled to sleep by the gorgeous flow of Rothfuss's prose, it was a constant nagging in the back of my mind during the whole book.
Thankfully, due to some plot shenanigans, Kvothe has to take leave of the University for a little while to let things cool down. At the suggestion of his good friend Count Threpe, he embarks on a journey that takes him to the east to Vintas, where the author decides to gloss over some really awesome sounding adventure stuff to get to not nearly-as-awesome-sounding stuff. He writes,
That quote right there was all we were ever told about the events that transpired on his journey to Vintas. It takes up maybe a quarter of a page. And not only that, but this isn't the first time he's done this. In fact, he already glossed over a trial that Kvothe had which according to Chronicler became the stuff of legend and was often talked about at the University. But what do we get about it? A brief summation of events that fills about a page or two. Now, both times Rothfuss gives us our reasoning through our narrator, present-day Kvothe. He claims both times that these events don't contribute to his overall story in any meaningful way, so he leaves them out. I can't really say anything in response to this argument because this is Rothfuss's story and I haven't read the final installment and thus don't know how everything ties in, but I can say this: if your book is going to be 1000 pages, you can find some ways to get this juicy stuff in there. I heard from someone that Rothfuss actually had to shave down his original manuscript to allow it to fit paperback maximum page counts; I don't know whether it's true, but I don't doubt it. I'm guessing perhaps these two events were in the original drafts but had to be scrapped for things he deemed more important. Now, again, this is coming from someone who doesn't know the finished product, but how about shaving off some of the overall useless fluff at the beginning of the book, or condensing some of the later excursions? In a lot of ways, this book seems like it needs a good editor (or two) to go in and show Rothfuss how to re-balance his works' focus.
Anyway, Kvothe gets to his destination and spends some time figuring his way through Vintish court drama and political interplay. I'm not going to go into detail here because things quickly become seemingly pointless. Kvothe is sent by the Maer on a mission to hunt down some bandits that introduces us to some cool new characters that are largely disregarded, he gets pulled into the Faë and has sex for about a hundred pages, and then he goes on yet another seemingly aimless detour through Adem country to learn their ways. Don't get me wrong: these adventures are compelling and they hold interest, introducing us to cool characters and places. The Adem culture was especially interesting for me personally; I loved how Rothfuss delved into the sexuality and language and customs of the Adem and showed the stark contrasts and odd parallels between Aturan and Adem ways of life. It was an exemplary feat of world building and a joy to read. But that's the confounding issue with this book; it's an engrossing read and beautifully done, but it just doesn't have any cohesion. All of these adventures, when viewed from a few steps away, seem as threaded together as a tattered dishtowel. They all seem to exist in their own separate spheres, and then, without any build up or foreshadowing or warning whatsoever, the story suddenly moves into the next phase. Believe me when I say I tried my hardest to argue the other side; this is a story of Kvothe's life after all, and real life doesn't have the fluidity of a story. But Rothfuss's drive for authenticity that I lauded so highly in The Name of the Wind gets him into trouble here, because if you make it too realistic in it's pacing it unravels. Real life definitely doesn't have the cohesion of stories, but the lack of consistency and pacing in real life doesn't make for good stories! I'm all about testing the bounds of literature, but in this Rothfuss fell pretty flat.
So a few other things happen, Denna is there for a little bit and they have some issues but Kvothe ends the book being rich and famous and awed by everyone and everything's fine. The book ends without answering any of the questions proposed in the first book. Kvothe still has no real character development, which I let slide in the first book because of reasons I've listed above, and now Rothfuss has one book to wrap up all these loose ends:
These are just some of the ones I thought of off the top of my head. Granted, it's not like I expected Rothfuss to give us answers to all of these things; I recognize this is the second installment in a series. But that's an undeniably hefty order of things to tie up in one book, even if it is 900+ pages. Answering some of these questions, condensing and knitting the events more closely in this novel would have really helped in both lessening the load of things Rothfuss needs to accomplish in the last book and would have made this book feel relevant. Which, I'm sad to say, it doesn't seem like it is.
In the end, I think some of the praise the first book received from me is partly because I thought it had so much potential. It laid out such a rich landscape as a foundation for this epic story, I was absolutely giddy with excitement to delve into the second book and see what was going to happen. But you can't set a stage and then give an opening prologue for three hours. No matter how beautiful it is, no matter how caught up you get in that prologue, you're still left waiting for the actual story, the real reason you're there, watching that darn play, to commence. And frankly, that's how I felt as I finished that nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth page; like I was still waiting.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Rothfuss will really wow me with this third installment and really show Kvothe grow as a person and pull all of these loosely related events together and make a masterpiece. Maybe it will regain its focus. Maybe I'm scrutinizing the painting before it's complete, and those last little flourishes will be it's saving grace. Maybe. I really hope so.
Well, no. Not really. In fact, Patrick Rothfuss's mastery of the English language is just as evident as in the first installment. With only two novels under his belt I feel it's safe to say he has a way with words. The man can make Kvothe eating stew more captivating than many authors can make whole novels. Rather, it was not so much the quality of the writing that was lacking as the content of the novel, which is strange in and of itself. Most of the time, if anything, you find a book that has a really great concept but doesn't have a talented or experienced enough writer behind it to really suck all of the marrow out of the concept. Here we have a brilliant up and coming author whose pacing and prose seems to come as naturally as breathing, and yet the book itself, for all its 900+ pages, really doesn't have much substance. The first novel gave us many questions but few answers, and, much to my disappointment, the second book answered... none of them. In fact, it hardly worked towards any of them, spattering mention of them across its great sea of pages without really finding much of anything definitively. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Spoiler
I think one of the best ways to explain this strange phenomenon is to use one of the characters within the book; the bewitching Fae-maiden Felurian. She draws men to bed her with her beauty and grace, and exacts her will through coy manipulation and magic until they are helpless to resist. Most men die happily in her arms. But when Kvothe is able to break free of her spell and see what is going on around him, the illusion is swiftly and deftly dismantled. Similarly, when your nose is in this book you are spellbound; the writing is just that good. But if you ever pull your head out of it for an extended period and start thinking over what's happened, you start to see some glaring flaws that, once noticed, are never able to be unseen.The Wise Man's Fear continues where its predecessor left off, with Kvothe studying and being generally really amazing at the University. He's hanging with his friends he made in the first book, scrounging for funds, and getting in and out of trouble, just like he did in the first book. In fact, a good chunk (365 pages) of this second novel seems like a rehashing of the first book, with a few changes. Kvothe starts a class about learning the true names of things under the eccentric tutelage of Elodin, and he makes some slight progression to his ultimate mission of finding the Chandrian and exacting his revenge, but his progression bears no fruit. He asks some questions and looks for some answers, but it's played as an afterthought rather than being at the forefront. I understand Kvothe has other things going on in his busy life, but Rothfuss can't simultaneously tell us this is his ultimate goal - his whole reasoning for going to the University - and then devote maybe fifty to a hundred pages total to it during this whole first part of the book. That's some intense mixed messaging, and while I was lulled to sleep by the gorgeous flow of Rothfuss's prose, it was a constant nagging in the back of my mind during the whole book.
Thankfully, due to some plot shenanigans, Kvothe has to take leave of the University for a little while to let things cool down. At the suggestion of his good friend Count Threpe, he embarks on a journey that takes him to the east to Vintas, where the author decides to gloss over some really awesome sounding adventure stuff to get to not nearly-as-awesome-sounding stuff. He writes,
Several unfortunate complications arose during the trip.
In brief, there was a storm, piracy, treachery, and shipwreck, although not in that order. It also goes without saying I did a great many things, some heroic, some ill-advised, some clever and audacious. Over the course of my trip I was robbed, drowned, and left penniless on the streets of Junpui. In order to survive I begged for crusts, stole a man's shoes, and recited poetry. The last should demonstrate more than all the rest how truly desperate I'd become.
That quote right there was all we were ever told about the events that transpired on his journey to Vintas. It takes up maybe a quarter of a page. And not only that, but this isn't the first time he's done this. In fact, he already glossed over a trial that Kvothe had which according to Chronicler became the stuff of legend and was often talked about at the University. But what do we get about it? A brief summation of events that fills about a page or two. Now, both times Rothfuss gives us our reasoning through our narrator, present-day Kvothe. He claims both times that these events don't contribute to his overall story in any meaningful way, so he leaves them out. I can't really say anything in response to this argument because this is Rothfuss's story and I haven't read the final installment and thus don't know how everything ties in, but I can say this: if your book is going to be 1000 pages, you can find some ways to get this juicy stuff in there. I heard from someone that Rothfuss actually had to shave down his original manuscript to allow it to fit paperback maximum page counts; I don't know whether it's true, but I don't doubt it. I'm guessing perhaps these two events were in the original drafts but had to be scrapped for things he deemed more important. Now, again, this is coming from someone who doesn't know the finished product, but how about shaving off some of the overall useless fluff at the beginning of the book, or condensing some of the later excursions? In a lot of ways, this book seems like it needs a good editor (or two) to go in and show Rothfuss how to re-balance his works' focus.
Anyway, Kvothe gets to his destination and spends some time figuring his way through Vintish court drama and political interplay. I'm not going to go into detail here because things quickly become seemingly pointless. Kvothe is sent by the Maer on a mission to hunt down some bandits that introduces us to some cool new characters that are largely disregarded, he gets pulled into the Faë and has sex for about a hundred pages, and then he goes on yet another seemingly aimless detour through Adem country to learn their ways. Don't get me wrong: these adventures are compelling and they hold interest, introducing us to cool characters and places. The Adem culture was especially interesting for me personally; I loved how Rothfuss delved into the sexuality and language and customs of the Adem and showed the stark contrasts and odd parallels between Aturan and Adem ways of life. It was an exemplary feat of world building and a joy to read. But that's the confounding issue with this book; it's an engrossing read and beautifully done, but it just doesn't have any cohesion. All of these adventures, when viewed from a few steps away, seem as threaded together as a tattered dishtowel. They all seem to exist in their own separate spheres, and then, without any build up or foreshadowing or warning whatsoever, the story suddenly moves into the next phase. Believe me when I say I tried my hardest to argue the other side; this is a story of Kvothe's life after all, and real life doesn't have the fluidity of a story. But Rothfuss's drive for authenticity that I lauded so highly in The Name of the Wind gets him into trouble here, because if you make it too realistic in it's pacing it unravels. Real life definitely doesn't have the cohesion of stories, but the lack of consistency and pacing in real life doesn't make for good stories! I'm all about testing the bounds of literature, but in this Rothfuss fell pretty flat.
So a few other things happen, Denna is there for a little bit and they have some issues but Kvothe ends the book being rich and famous and awed by everyone and everything's fine. The book ends without answering any of the questions proposed in the first book. Kvothe still has no real character development, which I let slide in the first book because of reasons I've listed above, and now Rothfuss has one book to wrap up all these loose ends:
1. Kvothe the Kingkiller needs to kill a king
2. He's got to unravel the mystery of the Amyr and the Chandrian
3. He needs to talk to Gods (? It was a thing mentioned in the first book that could be taken as an extrapolation - we don't know.)
4. He has to confront Denna's mysterious patron
5. He has to figure out the mystery of the Archives / Lockless doors.
6.He has to steal a princess from a "sleeping barrow king"
7.He has to change from the witty and hotheaded youth into the sullen and tired innkeeper he is in the present
8.He has to somehow set the world on the path to destruction that it's on in the present
9.He has to find out what's in the Lockless Box
10. He has to be kicked out of the University
11. He has to end the story and then right the problems that he's caused in the present
These are just some of the ones I thought of off the top of my head. Granted, it's not like I expected Rothfuss to give us answers to all of these things; I recognize this is the second installment in a series. But that's an undeniably hefty order of things to tie up in one book, even if it is 900+ pages. Answering some of these questions, condensing and knitting the events more closely in this novel would have really helped in both lessening the load of things Rothfuss needs to accomplish in the last book and would have made this book feel relevant. Which, I'm sad to say, it doesn't seem like it is.
In the end, I think some of the praise the first book received from me is partly because I thought it had so much potential. It laid out such a rich landscape as a foundation for this epic story, I was absolutely giddy with excitement to delve into the second book and see what was going to happen. But you can't set a stage and then give an opening prologue for three hours. No matter how beautiful it is, no matter how caught up you get in that prologue, you're still left waiting for the actual story, the real reason you're there, watching that darn play, to commence. And frankly, that's how I felt as I finished that nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth page; like I was still waiting.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Rothfuss will really wow me with this third installment and really show Kvothe grow as a person and pull all of these loosely related events together and make a masterpiece. Maybe it will regain its focus. Maybe I'm scrutinizing the painting before it's complete, and those last little flourishes will be it's saving grace. Maybe. I really hope so.