Book Thoughts: The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss

I’ll start by saying that I’m a huge Rothfuss fan. The wait for the next instalment of the Kingkiller Chronicle feels interminable. I have an admission – aside from required readings for school, I’ve never re-read a book, but by the time the next installment is published I might need a Kingkiller refresher! I’m lucky I cam into Game of Thrones in more recent years, so my wait has only been for the upcoming installment, not the previous one as well – patience is clearly not a virtue of mine.

That’s one of the reasons I was intrigued to hear about Kingkiller volume 2.5. I’ve seen reviews and opinions on both sides of the fence, so I will admit I had a niggling skepticism as I began reading.

One of the strongest criticisms I heard was that there was no point to this book, that there was no story. And, to an extent, the complaint that there is no story isn’t entirely untrue, in that it doesn’t appear to further the main Kingkiller plot in any obvious way. Or at least it doesn’t appear to.

What is obvious is that this is a beautiful, elegant piece. It’s a fragment. It poses questions, but it paints a haunting, layered picture, even if that picture blurs at the edges.

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In the main series, Auri is a creature of mystery. We feel that she figures into the main story more than we’re being told. We want to know more. And, having read this book, we do, just maybe not the ‘more’ we were hoping for or expecting.

The narrative of this book made me feel I was Auri. Her life is routine, logical (at least to her), methodical, but we are given momentary glimpses throughout of chaos, perhaps violence in her past. They are fleeting, yet the fear and the dread is palpable. But Auri is not a person, I think, that would want you to feel sorry for her. She is strong, although we see a vulnerability in her. She is meticulous, yet she can be carefree. She is shut up and secretive, but she is a well of emotion. She has been through – something – but she survives. Her life seems odd, illogical and isolated, but it is, fiercely, hers.

The psychologist in me could speculate as to the link between Auri’s need for control and order and the hinted at chaos that she has lived through; the ability to move freely and unseen through much of her life and the care she takes when she goes through that door.

The reader in me wants to see how the ‘special occasion’ goes, how Auri factors further into the overall storyline and applauds Mr. Rothfuss for keeping my interest and curiosity piqued in between installments in such an eloquent, tantalising way.

The reader in me also wishes he would write faster.

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