The Riddler's Gift, by Greg Hamerton

Everyone knows I'm a sucker for a good fantasy tale. I've also been known to gush over novels that click with me, and recommend them forcefully to anyone that will listen. This has yielded mixed results over the years, for a variety of reasons. The obvious reason is that, hey, people are different, and like different things. What appeals to me strongly might be of little-to-no interest to you, and vice-versa. No big deal. But another reason for the mixed results might be my tendency to jump right onto this here blog in the immediate aftermath of finishing what I feel is a great book, and get caught up in the afterglow. I then break forth in a torrent of praise and adulation that might not have been so unrestrained had I taken a day or two to let the afterglow fade and look at things a bit more objectively. I cannonball in, hype things up, and, in some cases, the book can't live up to it. With the best of intentions, I inadvertently set the expectation bar too high.

So with this in mind, it is with a good, solid two days distance that I take keyboard in hand to write this review of a terrific book, The Riddler's Gift, by Greg Hamerton. If you haven't guessed yet by this build-up, I am a big fan of this book. I resisted the strong urge to immediately hop on here and fire both barrels of my praise gun, and chose instead to let my thoughts simmer. Here are my thoughts!

Other than The Heroes, by Joe Abercrombie, this book by Greg Hamerton is the most enjoyable fantasy book I've read in the past year. That includes all the noteworthy books listed in my 2011 Reads list over there on the right side of the blog page there. GRRM's entire series, Pat Rothfuss' latest, books by Brett, Parker, Scalzi, Sanderson, etc. All of them. I'm belaboring this to let you know that I am not saying this lightly, or off-the-cuff. (By the way, I don't consider Gates of Fire to be fantasy - that's still my favorite book of all time...)

The Riddler's Gift has many character types and fantasy tropes that one would expect from a (shall we say) "traditional" fantasy tale. A council of wizards, an "apprentice" over her head and swept up in an adventure, a noble master-swordsman, a wandering sage, an evil Lord and his unstable, cruel henchman, bent on world dominion, a magical trinket, and impending doom. Nothing too original here - so what's so special?

1) The Characters: The author does a fantastic job (pardon the pun) of crafting rich, complex characters. They lend themselves to shades of grey that are unexpected and yet feel oddly natural. You expect the heroine Tabitha Serannon to remain naive and good-at-heart, in spite of her trials, but as she accesses magic that is well-beyond her experience and expectation, it impacts her, changes her, in ways that catch you off guard. In fact, I can't think of a single main character, good or evil, that doesn't go through some level of transformation, or that isn't blind-sided by an unforeseen event (or series of events) that forces them to course-correct. It is all deftly handled, and thoroughly entertaining to read.

2) The Action: The story moves along at a brisk, occasionally break-neck speed. Let me qualify that for a moment: Once the storylines and characters are established, it takes off. It takes a bit to get rolling, but nowhere near as long as other books I've read in this genre. Give it a couple short chapters to hook you, and then buckle up.

3) The Dialog: Of course, on one hand I mean the spoken interactions between characters, but I'm also talking about the internal dialog that the characters have with themselves, as they wrestle with events and decisions that they've made, and assimilate the repercussions of their actions. The general themes of "good vs evil" and of "compromising with your moral code" are relatively-well worn paths, true, but that doesn't mean they can't be handled effectively anymore. Greg Hamerton wrings a lot of marrow out of those old bones, and I caught myself several times pausing while I was reading to contemplate what a character had just said. In fact, at the beginning of each chapter, there are these wonderful little proverbs (if you will) that are attributed to a certain character that always made me think -- and always ended up announcing what was to happen in the chapter, as though the chapter was the answer to the riddle that prefaced it. I loved those little touches.

4) The Craft: The book is well-crafted, solidly-written, and carries with it an intelligence and playfulness that was refreshing. Full of wonderful moments, unexpected events, humor and weight. Being the author's first book (in the series, anyway), I don't know whether this is the result of scads of polishing time and revising, or if it is a true indication of the talent and skill that will be evident in all of his books... you know how follow-up books can be. The first volume gets all of the blood, sweat, tears, polish, agonizing, tweaking, etc... and if/when it's a success, the second volume is expected quickly, and in order to hit some arbitrary deadline, subsequent volumes hit the shelves feeling unpolished and rushed and blah, lacking the spark that the initial volume was able to attain. Hey, I understand completely - the same can be said of music albums... a decade goes into a debut album, all the best songs from over the years sifted and hand-selected and polished to perfection in hopes that the album will take off and be a hit... then when it is, a new album is expected straight away, so dive back into the studio and crank something out!

All that to say, I have purchased the next book in the series, Second Sight, and will see for myself how it holds up.

Now, wait a minute, yes The Riddler's Gift is part of a planned trilogy. However, the story arc in the book is wonderfully complete, in and of itself. The blistering climax is thoroughly satisfying - and while there is an avenue left open to take things to the next level, by no means do you need to wait for the trilogy to finish before reading this book. It works very well as a stand-alone title, well worthy of your attention.

I have to be honest here - initially, I wasn't expecting much from this book. I mean, it was among the .99 cent fantasy books on holiday special on Amazon, with all the self-published and/or "unknown" authors - Kindle-stuffing, so to speak. When I bought the book in December, I saw that it had a few reviews, but that it's average rating was close to 5 stars, and figured, after skimming the reviews, I'd pull the trigger and buy it. Hey, for a buck, it was minimal risk. So I went into the read with an open mind, but not expecting to be blown away. But as I finished reading the book, and set it down, the first word that came to mind was "magnificent." And after having let it stew for a couple days, I believe I shall stand by my initial assessment. The Riddler's Gift is a magnificent book.

Summary: 5/5 A wonderful ride, terrifically-realized characters (if not wholly original), excellent dialog and action, and plenty of food for thought.

Gates of Fire, by Steven Pressfield

I have read many great books in my time, in many genres. Trying to define "great" is not as easy as it sounds, since many of the books I feel are truly great are quite different -- in content, in presentation, in style, in delivery, in feel. I'd like to think my ability to recognize and appreciate great writing transcends my own unique set of preferences... meaning, I may not like the story or the subject matter, but that should take nothing away from my ability to acknowledge the author's skill set. Contrariwise, I'd also like to think that just because I connect with the story/subject matter as thoroughly as a person can possibly do such, it still wouldn't color my ability to objectively comment on the writing, the story, the author's ability to navigate the page and/or the reader's heart.

All that to say, prepare for a glowing review. How objective it is remains to be seen.

I'll summarize this review now, for those that lack the patience to wade through this post. This book is the best book I've ever read, period, for many reasons, which I will attempt to elucidate upon in the following paragraphs. This is technically the third time I've read this book, and it is an example I can, with clear conscience and without exaggeration, point to as that rare book that truly does improve with subsequent readings.

Gates of Fire, by the amazing Steven Pressfield, is a dramatic re-telling of the Spartan stand against the Persian invaders of King Xerxes in the Battle of Thermopylae in about 480 BC. Spartan King Leonidas, along with 300 hand-picked Spartan warriors and their squires and helots, were joined by a mix of Greek warriors from different surrounding regions, coming together to try and plug the narrow mountain pass called Thermopylae (aka, The Hot Gates or Gates of Fire), which was the only road Xerxes could use to move his armies into Greece, to conquer and enslave the country (as he had everywhere else he went).

At this point, if you could do me a favor and drive all thought of the 2006 comic-book movie "300" from your mind, it would help. Though this book tells the same basic tale, the hyper-stylized, heavily-embellished and outright odd movie should not color your willingness to pick up this book. Different beast altogether. I placed a screenshot from the movie here only because I could not find a better shot of a Spartan phalanx.

In the book, a single man, named Xeones, has barely survived the famous last stand, being pulled from the rubble in the immediate aftermath, with grievous wounds. King Xerxes immediately orders his best surgeons to tend to him, in the hopes that this man could survive and satiate the King's thirst for knowledge about these men who withstood his innumerable forces for three full days, specifically this core of Spartans that proved so impossibly resilient. Who were these warriors? The Persian King, who had witnessed the entirety of the three-day battle from a safe nearby vantage point, initially supremely confident that his forces would roll through the pass without much problem, was stunned to see his forces, including some of his very best, decimated by such a small force, to the tune of 20,000+ men. When all was said and done, the narrow mountain pass was a hellish slaughterhouse, the rock-hard earth transformed into knee-deep mud by the spilled blood.

Xeones, himself a squire to a Spartan captain named Dienekes, survives long enough to relay to King Xerxes' chief historian the tale of the 300 and their suicide mission. This book is that story, as though we have picked up that historian's record from an ancient archive and sat down to give it a reading.

The book works first as a character story. Xeones is merely the first of many people the reader meets, and, if the reader is anything like me, will form a deep bond with - a bond made more bittersweet by the fact that the final outcome for most of these characters is known to us before we even crack the book open. You know these 300 will die - it hangs over your head each page, like a guillotine blade. If the characters were shallow and/or poorly drawn, their sacrifice would mean little. But because they were crafted with such expert care, their imminent demise manifests itself, as the book progresses, in an increasing tightness in the belly. This is especially nefarious, since the book is so hard to put down. You are hooked and drawn forward.

The book works as a history lesson. Some people (like me) are fascinated by certain segments of history. My fascination seems to orbit around military history - odd, since I was never in the military, though I hold in highest respect those that are/were. World War II is a big topic with me, but wars more modern and more ancient also snag both my attention and my imagination. What fascinates me about ancient warfare, as much as anything else, are the weapons/armor and tactics/strategies employed. Shooting someone from distance with a rifle is one thing; gutting someone with a xiphos or overhand-thrusting an eight-foot spear into somebody's chest is something else entirely. Or is it?

The history lesson goes beyond merely the in-depth study of the Spartan lifestyle and training. It drives home, albeit with subtlety, the fact that the ultimate triumph of Greece over the invading Persian King led directly to the birth of democracy, which has direct implications on our (U.S.) society today, for obvious reasons.

The book works as an action-adventure. The inexorable pace of the tale is constant, even with the frequent trips back in time to Xeones' childhood, and the road he took in his early years that led him to Lakedaemon, into the often-brutal service of the Spartan army. It builds like a juggernaut, until all you can do is grab hold of the book covers and hold on for dear life, clinging to the impossible hope that at least one of these incredible characters will somehow miraculously survive, knowing that they won't. The ridiculously vivid battle descriptions are a wonder to read, especially seeing the way the Spartans trained (and why), and how it translated onto the battlefield. But the interactions between the characters as they move towards their destinies are equally captivating and, surprisingly, in many places, very funny.

The book works as literature. To me, this book is art. The vocabulary and sentence construction in this book represent the best of my experience. To say Pressfield "has a way with words" would be to so understate as to be insulting. His sentences are a joy to eat - so much so that one could pull entire monologues out of his pages, as is, and perform them onstage, to great effect. In fact, I believe an example is in order.

King Leonidas stands before his assembled 300 Spartans as they are about to depart on the hard march to Thermopylae. Assembled around them are not only the rest of the Spartan forces, wishing with everything inside them that they could have been selected to go as well, but also the wives, families, the whole town, gathered to see these heroes off, knowing they will never return. King Leonidas addresses these words to his men.

Death stands close upon us now. Can you feel him, brothers? I do. I am human and I fear him. My eyes cast about for a sight to fortify the heart for that moment when I come to look him in the face.
            Shall I tell you where I find this strength, Friends? In the eyes of our sons in scarlet before us, yes. And in the countenance of their comrades who will follow in battles to come. But more than that, my heart finds courage from these, our women, who watch in tearless silence as we go.
            How many times have these twain stood here in the chill shade of Parnon and watched those they love march out to war? Pyrrho, you have seen grandfathers and father troop away down the Aphetaid, never to return. Alkemene, your eyes have held themselves unweeping as husband and brothers have departed to their deaths. Now here you stand again, with no few others who have borne as much and more, watching sons and grandsons march off to hell.
            Men’s pain is lightly borne and swiftly over. Our wounds are of the flesh, which is nothing; women’s is of the heart – sorrow unending, far more bitter to bear. Learn from them, brothers, from their pain in childbirth which the gods have ordained immutable. Bear witness to that lesson they teach: nothing good in life comes but at a price. Sweetest of all is liberty. This we have chosen and this we pay for. We have embraced the laws of Lykurgus, and they are stern laws. They have schooled us to scorn the life of leisure, which this rich land of ours would bestow upon us if we wished, and instead to enroll ourselves in the academy of discipline and sacrifice. Guided by these laws, our fathers for twenty generations have breathed the blessed air of freedom and have paid the bill in full when it was presented. We, their sons, can do no less.
            In six hundred years, so the poets say, no Spartan woman has beheld the smoke of the enemy’s fires. By Zeus and Eros, by Athena Protectress and Artemis Upright, by the Muses and all the gods and heroes who defend Lakedaemon and by the blood of my own flesh, I swear that our wives and daughters, our sisters and mothers, will not behold those fires now.

How I would love to perform that piece onstage. And it is one of a dozen or more examples I could insert here. 

Lastly, the book works as an unshakable source of inspiration. I cannot help but wonder, as I tasted the final words of this book (for this third reading), whether I have ever had - or will ever have - even a fraction of the steel within me required to stand among such men. And I don't mean the Spartans - I mean all men of this caliber, even today. Men willing to sacrifice everything for what they believe in. Men willing to endure brutal training, to learn hard lessons, to take life's best shot to the teeth, to endure hardness as a good soldier of Christ (if I may wax Biblical for a moment). How can I find and apply this strength, this dedication, this resolve to my own situation? To my own walk with God? To what I believe in and hold most valuable? At the risk of being corny, this book makes me want to be a man, in every sense of that word. The camaraderie on display here is something I wish I could experience, and know I likely never will.

Even though I have gone on at such lengths, espousing a few of what I feel are many legitimate virtues of this book and its author, I must qualify (and risk cheapening) it with this question: Will this book strike you the same way? Will it captivate and decimate, inspire and entertain you the same way? I have no clue. But as for me, it has solidified its place at the top of my Best Books list, and I don't anticipate it being moved for a very long time.

Summary: 5/5 The language and writing alone make this a book worth reading. If the subject matter connects with you as it does for me, you will be exponentially rewarded. My only regret is that I will never again be able to read this book for the first time.

A Game of Thrones, by George RR Martin

Westeros is a troubled land. A sprawling continent, littered with Houses and Clans and centuries-old strongholds, with a rich history. The land used to be divided into 7 kingdoms, with 7 kings, but 300 years earlier, the realm was united by Aegon the Conqueror, of House Targaryen, a family known for their dragons, their unique look (silver hair, purple eye color), and their madness.

But Targaryen rule was finally put to an end by a headstrong, passionate man named Robert of House Baratheon, who killed Prince Rhaegar Targaryen in a famous battle at the south fork of the Trident River, while back in the capital city of King's Landing, the mad King Aerys was killed by a member of his own personal guard, Jaime Lannister.

Confused yet? Well, take heart - this is just the barest tip of the iceberg when it comes to the mammoth, incredibly diverse, and - most importantly - eminently memorable cast of characters that flesh out George Martin's epic fantasy tale, which is labeled The Song of Ice and Fire. It is perhaps the best modern fantasy series to be penned - and definitely the best I've read.

King Robert is not a very good king. The tenuous unity in Westeros teeters on the brink of dissolution, as Robert  drinks and whores and hunts and plunges the realm deeper and deeper into debt. When his chief advisor dies, King Robert strikes out north to visit his old friend Eddard of House Stark, who fought side by side with Robert back when he won the throne. The King intends to ask Eddard to travel back south with him, and be his new chief advisor. But Eddard is of the frozen North, and the sweltering snakes' nest of King's Landing down south holds no appeal for him. Yet Eddard is also a man of honor, and honor compels him to accept the King's offer, fracturing his family in the process.

A Game of Thrones is primarily a story of what happens to Eddard and the Stark Household as a result of his decision to go south with the King.

I say "primarily", because, really, while the Stark's are major players in this book, there are literally dozens of other characters you will meet before the book ends. In fact, perhaps a dozen dozen. Normally, when a book introduces more than a handful of characters, I quickly become overwhelmed and lose interest, finding it hard to keep straight whom is who (or is it "who is whom"?). The secret of how GRRM can make so many characters so memorable has been a source of unending observation for me in this, my fourth read-through of this title. I aspire to write a rather complex fantasy tale myself, peopled with many characters, and I would dearly love to know GRRM's secret...

It's not just the stability of the kingdoms of Westeros that is at issue in this series. Far to the north of Westeros is The Wall. It marks the end of civilization. It is a wall of ice and stone some 700 feet tall and traveling coast to coast, built centuries ago using magic long forgotten, and is manned by the Night's Watch. There are things beyond The Wall that require a constant vigil - especially when winter comes. The winters in Westeros are often years long, and bring with it ancient horrors that would gladly spread south if the Wall were to be breached. Ancient horrors that most of the realm believes to be fairy tales, but that the Night's Watch are learning to be far too real.

And across the Narrow Sea are the Free Cities, with many other races and peoples and magics. It was to the Free Cities that the last of the Targaryen family fled when Robert Baratheon took the throne. It was his mission to hunt down and kill every last Targaryen, yet two children had slipped through his fingers: Viserys and Daenerys Stormborn. Viserys has designs on returning to Westeros to reclaim the throne that was stolen from his family, and he will stop at nothing. But his madness is his greatest weakness.

The cast is as fascinating as it is vast. The dialog is wonderful, the world alive, the action relentless, and the author merciless. I have never read an author who so willingly sacrifices characters, both loved and reviled. As a reader, you learn early on not to grow too attached to anyone, yet you cannot help it. There will be characters you hate, and characters you love, and examples of each that will evolve and morph until you feel the opposite about them. Every shade of "good and evil" is represented, with very few pure examples of either extreme. Everyone is a mix. Everyone is a blend. Every combination of good, evil, smart, dumb, brave, cowardly, inconstant... there are no archetypes, only people.

I cannot get into specifics of the story itself without launching into a full-scale, fully detailed summary, which would be boring. In the interest of brevity, let me say this: I highly recommend this book. If you love it like I do, then reading the next several volumes will be a no brainer. If you are put off by the occasional salty language, the occasional adult situation, and the over-abundance of violence, then the series won't be for you.

Summary: 5/5 if I could rate it higher than a 5/5, I would. Masterful writing. An incredible tale, an alive world, a memorable cast of dozens (and dozens)... in short, a gritty, fascinating, page-turning literary accomplishment. The series is projected for 8 books, with book 5 on sale soon. I sincerely hope to see the ultimate completion of the series. I guarantee this one will stand the test of time.

Old Man's War, by John Scalzi

I was lurking over on Logan's blog, reading his recap of his trip out to visit Pat Rothfuss, at the signing of Wise Man's Fear, and in the recap, Logan mentioned a list over at Tor.com of the Top Ten SFF Novels of the Decade (from 2000 to 2010). With some level of interest, I checked the list out, since such lists usually include books I'd never heard of, and occasionally will lead me to a good read. Such is the case here.

The people who voted on the list voted Old Man's War, by John Scalzi, as the best SFF book of the past decade. I'm not much into Science Fiction (as you all know), but I'm not one to buck the suggestions of those that know more than I, so I popped for the digital (Kindle) version and filed it away on my iPad, thinking I'd get to it sooner or later. Well, turns out it was sooner! I read it over the past couple days.

It was a fast, fun read. The premise was a good one, but nothing really struck me as outstanding or challenging or mind-bending at all. Best SFF of the decade? Well, personal preferences being what they are, I would have to beg to differ.

In the Earth that Scalzi crafted, human beings (male and female) can join up for space military service at the age of 75, if they wish to. This may seem like a ridiculous thing to do, but it has its advantages as well as disadvantages. Rumor has is that joining up for the Colonial Defense Forces at age 75 is not a problem, since they have a way to make people young again. Of course, this has never been confirmed, since those that join up for service in the CDF never get to return to earth. But the chance that it's true is enough for many to say goodbye to everyone and everything they hold near and dear, and head out into the wild black yonder.

John Perry and his wife Kathy planned to join together, but she died before she reached the required age of 75. Bittersweet, to say the least, but ultimately it made it that much easier for John to sign up when his day came. What will he (and the rest of the old folks) do out in space, after they sign up? Well, according to the recruitment papers that they sign, the term is a ten year term of service, during which the recruit will agree to be trained by the CDF for use in its program of interstellar colonization. Basically, if it comes to it, they get to meet and kill all sorts of fascinating alien creatures. After ten years, if they're still alive, they can join up with a group of settlers in a colony on an appropriated (conquered!) planet, and live the rest of their life in peace.

Old Man's War is the story of what happens to John Perry (and others) after they leave earth, to begin service in the CDF. Seeing as how I will end this review by recommending this book, I hesitate to explore even a bit of what happens, at the risk of ruining your sense of discovery. Not spoilers, per se, but even the very act of reading what happens has a fun freshness to it that I wouldn't want to sully in any way.

The book is well written, solid, if not particularly rich or intriguing. It is told in first-person. The story tells itself, and no real attempt is made at using clever turns of speech or word play or polish that might have really made the experience sing. Much like Brandon Sanderson, the author (Scalzi) is content to stand back and let the story tell itself. Again, a fast, fun read. It may not seem like high praise coming from me, but keep in mind, I'm not a SciFi fan. You may wonder, then, why I chose to buy/read it in the first place! Well, #1 books on lists often have strange appeal to me...

Being that the story is told in a military setting, keep in mind there will be some salty language, especially from Drill Instructor types and soldier-under-fire types. And there is some adult activity, if you catch my drift. But overall, it was fun (though occasionally depressing) to follow John Perry across the universe.

Summary: 3.5 out of 5 A good space yarn that tries (mostly successfully) to avoid "going Hollywood" too much. That having been said, I did read that the book has been optioned by Hollywood to turn into a movie, but that can be said for just about anything.

The Wise Man's Fear, by Patrick Rothfuss

I'm sure you all know of Patrick Rothfuss by now, if not from my rampant fanboyish outbursts then from Logan's similar gushing -- although, to be frank, as much as I like PR, my fannishness is nothing compared to Logan's...

Be that as it may, I shall recap again, in brief, for those that either don't know, or don't recall...

In 2009 I read The Name of the Wind, by P. Rothfuss, which was, by all accounts, the best book I read that year. It had a rather profound impact on me, in ways that I shall avoid elaborating upon here, in the interest of brevity, and in the interest of minimizing the impact such corny reflections will have upon my already-whisper-thin credibility. I loved the book. Let's leave it there.

However, an interesting thing happened when I started recommending it strongly to many in my circle. There was not the flood of similar universal praise I expected, but rather the opinions were decidedly mixed. Some loved it, some did not love it... in fact, some didn't even like it! (I won't name names) It made me wonder if I was crazy. I re-read the book in 2010. I'm not crazy. It's a terrific book. If you didn't like it, you are wrong. :D <---

So I waited patiently for the second book in the Kingkiller Chronicles, The Wise Man's Fear, as PR endlessly revised and edited and polished it -- a wait made tolerable because Pat did a wonderful job of keeping his fans abreast of developments and progress. The result, I had hoped, would be a massive, wonderful book, sure to take it's well-deserved place on my Bookshelf Of Wonder, next to the other (sadly few) epic, 5-star books in my collection.

The story is primarily told from the perspective of the main character, named Kvothe, who is a living legend. He is recounting the tale of his life to a man named Chronicler, who makes it his goal in life to track down stories worthy of remembrance and set them down for all to read. Through a course of events, Kvothe decides the time has come for his story to be told. He is to tell the whole tale over the course of three days. The Name of the Wind was day one, The Wise Man's Fear is day two, and of course, the third volume will be day three, and will bring the tale to the present.

In telling his life story, Kvothe details, in brutal honesty, the real events that transpired that made his life and deeds so legendary. And more often than not, the truth, while fascinating and often worthy of legend, was nowhere near the embellished tales told by the masses. It's almost an exercise in deconstructing a legend, and showing him to be the fellow human that his is. It really is a well-thought-through, terrifically written tale.

However...

I've been trying to think up the best way to convey what I felt as I read the final page of The Wise Man's Fear last night, and it has been difficult. On the one hand, it was everything I'd hoped it would be. On the other hand, it disappointed me, in many ways. Yet I tore through it, with nary a hiccup, and enjoyed the ride thoroughly. Yet the lingering disquiet was pronounced. There were stretches of story that both impressed me to no end, and bored me. Some of the events left me scratching my head, trying to figure out why on earth Rothfuss made the story choices he did, while I simultaneously enjoyed the heck out of them. A lot of it made no sense, while making perfect sense.

Black and white? Nope. Grays everywhere, cover to cover.

I will use specific examples in this paragraph only, so those that have read the book can know better to what I refer. When Kvothe first meets Felurian, I thought it was amazing -- in fact, the first pages of that section rivaled anything written in the first book, as far as the style and polish and the epic writing I enjoyed so deeply. But then it dragged on waaaaay too long. Only to segue into Kvothe accompanying Tempi back into the mountains, to learn from the Ademre, and that section likewise went on waaaaaay too long. Both of those sections could (and should?) have been condensed dramatically, I felt. And yet, I enjoyed reading through both sections. But while I enjoyed it, I couldn't help thinking it would have been better if both of the sections were substantially tighter. And I'm sorry, as much as I thought the heart of the first book was the relationship (odd as it was) between Kvothe and Denna, I felt the way their relationship evolves in this book was disappointing as well. We can chat more about this one-on-one later. Let me wrap up this review before I trip wildly down too many side paths here...

The characters are great, across the board. The writing is well-done, though ultimately serviceable, with only flashes of the amazing style I loved so much in the previous book. The overall story progresses well. But dangit, it rambles and plods along, tearing me in two... again, for while I enjoyed reading it, I found myself longing for the story to pick up pace and start galloping again. I admire the depth to which Rothfuss went to develop the Ademre culture, but I think it was to the detriment of the story and pacing. The same might be said for the fae, to some extent, as well as the lengthy search for the bandits in the old forest (though the payoff of that trek was well worth it).

So, how do I summarize a book which I loved, but cannot urge people to drop everything and read? I can safely say that if The Name of the Wind did little for you, then The Wise Man's Fear will do as little or less. The book is gigantic in size, with great characters, and wonderful storyline, fun/funny dialog, yet suffers from often glacial pacing and eyebrow-arching storyline choices. It was simultaneously very satisfying to read, and disappointing. I want to rate it 5 stars and 3 stars at the same time.

Summary: 4/5 Loved it, in spite of rather pronounced flaws. It may be that I need to read it again in order to come to a more black and white resolution. Until that time, 4 out of 5 for a great time. I guess that's what it boils down to... did I enjoy the experience? Ultimately, very very much so.