Patrick Rothfuss

A couple of months ago a co-worker suggested I read Patrick Rothfuss’ Kingkiller Chronicle’s. Currently there are published two books in the trilogy, and I suspect (and strongly hope) that there will be a follow-up trilogy. The two published books are “The Name of the Wind” and “The Wise Man’s Fear”

The books currently rate 4.4 and 4.1 stars respectively on Amazon. I think I agree with the overall ratings.

Patrick Rothfuss reminds me a bit of Tolkien, he is an English professor with an obvious gift for weaving the written word into delightful prose.  I think that Name of the Wind is a one of the best books to come along since Harry Potter. Wise Man’s fears is a little weaker, a bit to detailed in its descriptions which some people seem to find tedious, but still I love the book.

What I particularly love is that while the books are a well written ‘coming to age’ story they are laced with tones of truly great humorous and memorable quotes. For example:

“The Day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.”

“You looked too hard and didn’t see enough. Too much looking can get in the way of seeing, you see?”

“I don’t even know how to begin to criticize that. It practically mocks itself. “

“When someone tells you a piece of their life, they’re giving you a gift, not granting you your due”

“To deem us simply enemies is to lose the true flavor of our relationship. It was more like the two of us entered into a business partnership in order to more efficiently pursue our mutual interest of hating each other.”

“We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”

“She grinned. ‘I have an apple that thinks it is a pear,’ she said holding it up, ‘and a bun that thinks it is a cat. And a lettuce that thinks it is a lettuce.’ ‘It’s a clever lettuce then.’ I said. ‘Hardly,’ she said with a delicate snort. ‘Why would anything clever think it was a lettuce’ ‘Even if it is a lettuce?’ I asked. ‘Especially then,’ she said. ‘Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.’

“Are you hurt?” “Absolutely, Especially in my everywhere.”

“Perhaps the greatest faculty our mind posses is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon our faint. This is the mind’s way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we are told.”

"...Teccam explains there are two types of secrets. There are secrets of the mouth and secrets of the heart.
Most secrets are secrets of the mouth. Gossip shared and small scandals whispered. There secrets long to be let loose upon the world. A secret of the mouth is like a stone in your boot. At first you're barely aware of it. Then it grows irritating, then intolerable. Secrets of the mouth grow larger the longer you keep them, swelling until they press against your lips. They fight to be let free.

Secrets of the heart are different. They are private and painful, and we want nothing more than to hide them from the world. They do not swell and press against the mouth. They live in the heart, and the longer they are kept, the heavier they become.

Teccam claims it is better to have a mouthful of poison than a secret of the heart. Any fool will spit out poison, he says, but we hoard these painful treasures. We swallow hard against them every day, forcing them deep inside us. They they sit, growing heavier, festering. Given enough time, they cannot help but crush the heart that holds them..."

Bast’s lullaby:
“How odd to watch a mortal kindle
Then to dwindle, day by day
Knowing their bright souls are tinder
And the wind will have its way
Would I could my own fire lend
What does your flickering portend?”