Book Review - The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

(Yes, while reading this book in public I did try to hide the cover.  I know I'm a nerd, but sometimes I don't need everyone else to know that as well.)

Despite what the cover of this book might entice you to believe, it is not just another romance novel starring a redheaded Fabio who seduces women with his lute and his love of reading, all while walking in a whirlwind of leaves.  It's much more than that.

It's a book about a legend.  But more importantly, it's a book about a legendary hero telling the story of how a legend became a legend.  And therein lies the secret to the magic of this book.  

I feel like most great fantasy novels are about legends in the making - Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, the Shanara series, Ender's Game, Elantris - you read these books and you are right there with the heroes, right there in the action in the middle of the story watching the heroes become legends.  But in The Name of the Wind, you are outside the story because you are reading a story about someone telling a story.  You know the hero is already a legend, so you're not necessarily coming to the story to find out how he became a legend (although that is definitely a thrilling tale).  You come to the story because you want to find out why the hero is telling the story of the legend instead of being in the middle of being the legend, and it's fascinating. 

I believe every time I sat down to read the book, I giggled as I opened it.  I couldn't help myself, I felt like I was part of storytelling in its purest, most magical form.  Every time I opened it I felt like a little girl sitting on my dad's lap listening to him read me a fairy tale.  If you had a dad like mine (and for 90% of the people reading this blog, you do), you'll know what I mean.  He changed his voice and emotions at all the right places, grumbling for the bad guys, squeaking for the princesses, hissing for the dragons - it was magic.  And that's exactly what this book is.