Following on The Name of the Wind, The Wise Man’s Fear is like the really attractive blonde that you just want to spend more time with. The sad realisation is that one you start to spend time with her you find that the only thing she can talk about is the same old topic as that other blonde, her sister. She knows the conversation downpat and recites it verbatim. But nothing ever changes in the conversation and she can’t shut up. She just talks and talks and never gets to the point of any story she’s trying to tell… ever!!
If you’re looking for something with a plot forget about reading The Wise Man’s fear. As already mentioned, this novel prattles on and on and never gets to the point. Rothfuss defies critics by saying that in life there are no convenient plot points, no easy to define split between the different acts. He argues that because his book is about the life of Kvothe that there needn’t be such literary contrivances. He loves the details… like giving you a grocery list of what Kvothe goes to buy while they’re hunting bandits.
The author forgets that people read to escape from the mundane facts of life without plot points or easy to define splits between the different acts. There are enough lists in normal life without having to get another meaningless list.
The book jacket provided a brief history of what we can look forward to in the series and after two tomes in the series, I believe we may have touched on two items. Isn’t this a brilliant example of breaking promises to the reader?
Gone is the fantastic writing that was present in The Name of the Wind and its place is more than a thousand pages of waffle.
I doubt whether I will be back for the third novel, or the fourth, five or fifteenth that it might take before the story is finally done.