Patrick Rothfuss’s second novel, the sequel to “The Name of the Wind”, came out and I got it as a late birthday present. I spent most of my adolescence devouring fantasy and science fiction books, and then I went to university and more or less stopped reading for fun, and now I’m too busy to do it most of the time. And in any case, I kind of had my fill of great honking huge epic fantasy trilogies by then. All those broken swords and destinies and lost kings and plucky orphans. And the hugely intricate worlds and casts of characters, which you cannot keep straight without referencing the maps and genealogies at the start of the book every three pages. Yeesh.
But this is a great honking huge fantasy trilogy that I am enjoying tremedously. It is beautifully crafted, and wonderfully told. I’m a little over halfway through its glorious 1008 pages and will be back to my regular pottery wibble shortly.
In the meantime, rest assured I am having a lot of fun.