I’ve begun listening to the second book in Patrick Rothfuss’ “The Kingkiller Chronicles”, “Wise Man’s Fear”. I recall being somewhat lukewarm but appreciative toward the first book. Rothfuss is an excellent writer, and he has a way of lending everything in the story “weight”. His world is fully realized. But that is not why I’m writing about it today.
I’m in love with one of his characters.
Regardless of what else may go on in the books I thoroughly enjoy Kvothe’s interactions with Auri, a mysterious, ethereal young woman he meets on the rooftops. She is part wild animal, part mist, part fairy, and part moonbeams on water. Kvothe believes her to be partly insane, yet much of that is simply how she chooses to see the world. She adds a whimsical touch to everything. For example, Kvothe often brings her presents of food and other items, and she will interrogate him as to what about them might be more than meets the eye. When he brings her a smoked salmon one night she asks him if it has a secret. She wants to know something about everything that is brought her, and the more whimsical the answer the better. It becomes a game between them to come up with fantastical descriptions for their gifts for one another.
She lives in the “underthing”, the system of tunnels beneath the enormous university where Kvothe studies. She comes out onto the roofs of the buildings at night, which is where she and Kvothe have most of their encounters. She knows her way around completely, and cannot be caught. It takes Kvothe weeks to lure her out of hiding, and still more weeks to gain her trust.
There are times, however, when there appears to be so much more to her. For example, one night Kvothe is wracked with grief over the loss of his parents and spends a sleepless night caught up in their memories. Somehow she knows, and she comes to find him and comfort him. She is entirely lucid, and seems to understand his loss as well as he does.
I find their scenes together, though always at night, to be full of light and breeze, magic and timelessness. There is a sense of innocence and wonder about the whole of their relationship that I find powerfully compelling and immensely satisfying. When they’re together I don’t care if the book is “going anywhere” or not. I simply enjoy the moment. These scenes are so perfect, and feel so right that I have a hard time convincing myself that a person wrote them. They have a life of their own.
Whatever I may end up thinking of the book as a whole, I savor every scene with Auri. These alone are enough to convince me that Mr. Rothfuss is something special as a writer. Somehow he has captured the magic of the ordinary.