The Name of the Wind • Patrick Rothfuss

I love beautiful deluxe editions and regularly comb through publishers’ catalogues for fine bibliophile books. This year looked rather bleak at first, but then I discovered this gorgeous luxury reissue of The Name of the Wind and was doubly delighted. First, because it seemed to be a truly splendid book whose specifications sounded almost too perfect. And second, because deluxe editions of fantasy novels are a real rarity. There are several beautifully produced editions of Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. And there’s also a beautiful leather edition of The Hobbit. So I was very pleased that the publisher Klett-Cotta dared to take the step and include a truly bibliophilic edition of a non-Tolkien fantasy novel in its list. The book is a real gem—simply magnificent. A treat as rare as it is delightful. During the read, however, this beautiful book did reveal a shadow side.

I read Patrick Rothfuss’s The Name of the Wind several years ago and found the story thoroughly entertaining. For me, Klett-Cotta is absolutely leading in the fantasy field, and with Tolkien and Tad Williams they already have two premium heavyweights in their programme. I’d place Rothfuss in that league as well, even if he doesn’t quite reach Tad Williams. Since my first reading was nearly eight years ago, The Name of the Wind has been on the list of books I definitely wanted to revisit. All the more reason to be excited about this deluxe edition.

The story is about Kvothe, a young arcanist—that is, a wizard—who has withdrawn to a remote village and lives there incognito as a simple innkeeper. A chronicler tracks him down, and Kvothe begins to tell him the story of his life. Starting from his childhood, Kvothe recounts a defining experience that uprooted him and eventually led him to a university for magicians. It’s a classic hero’s journey, with Kvothe standing out for his resourcefulness and wit. The whole thing is set in a typical, medievally tinged fantasy world. In sum, well-aged elements that should quickly draw out anyone who enjoys fantasy—because Rothfuss knows how to pull every narrative lever.

In terms of sentences and linguistic construction, the book is rather unspectacular. It’s the narrative devices that drive the story forward, and Rothfuss is really adept here, making good use of well-trodden paths. The story is written in the first person, and the confidential way in which Kvothe recounts his life quickly creates a strong sense of closeness between reader and protagonist. He appears very human in his thoughts and feelings, and it’s easy to put oneself in his place and feel with him. Building on that, Rothfuss repeatedly creates situations that keep the reader engaged and generate a steady underlying tension. He repeatedly puts his protagonist in a tight spot, and the reader soon learns that while Kvothe keeps taking his lumps, he ultimately proves to be an Edmond Dantès or a Jean Valjean—in other words, essentially part of the ranks of the invincible. This creates a foreknowledge that makes one look forward to how Kvothe will slip out of trouble with a clever ploy or sheer intelligence. Or Rothfuss sets up an unfair situation in which the reader feels with the protagonist and is then, of course, pleased when the scales balance out. There are also scenes where he lets Kvothe truly triumph, and the success becomes palpable to the reader to a certain degree. In doing so, he tickles that little bit of narcissism we all have, which further boosts the reading pleasure. There are even a few blunt end-of-chapter teasers in the style of “and he had no inkling of the catastrophe this would bring,” which appear several times. Overall, I find this quite conspicuous in his work; you can tell he’s studied the craft of writing intensely. It makes the novel very entertaining, but for me it also diminishes authenticity a bit, because these stylistic devices are very noticeable and the situations can feel a touch contrived.

What I really like is the atmosphere the story exudes. The world feels very authentic, and Rothfuss doesn’t overexplain; he often leaves open what the foreign words for places, peoples, countries, and units mean exactly. For that, the accompanying booklet is useful, offering more on the calendar, currency, and the fictional land. The map of Rothfuss’s world has been improved from the old edition and is now more visually appealing.

On an emotional level, the book also won me over. Kvothe’s thoughts and feelings are relatable, and you do find yourself empathising with him. I find Denna particularly successful—Rothfuss shapes her beautifully: mysterious, wrapped in the veil of first love. Well, I’m simply susceptible to such elements; they are the salt in the soup. Too much isn’t good, too little neither—and here the reader gets just the right balance.

I also noticed that Rothfuss generally doesn’t describe places and people in great detail. I think that works very well here, because for him the events take centre stage, and readers who, for example, weren’t thrilled by the landscape descriptions in The Lord of the Rings will find a story that isn’t expansive in that respect and maintains a pleasantly brisk pace throughout. I do like it when an author describes the setting in detail and especially weaves nature strongly into it, but in this book it suits very well that this isn’t the case. The text feels very coherent, and you can tell Rothfuss polished it a lot to achieve a rounded story. Somehow you still end up with a very clear picture of the characters, and it’s quite an art to make them tangible with few descriptions and primarily through the story itself. In the afterword, we learn that Rothfuss made this choice deliberately and wants each reader to form their own image of the characters.

As hinted, this book is simply beautiful, and it’s a pleasure to hold. The binding is made from a golden material with embossed black embellishments, and in the sun it shimmers magnificently. The embossed clouds symbolise the wind and Kvothe’s search for the name of the wind. The book is truly thick, large, and heavy, projecting exactly what you get: a richly expansive story. From a fantasy novel one does expect a hefty tome that transports you to another world for a good long while.

The book contains numerous illustrations by Marc Simonetti, and they’re simply wonderful. That’s exactly the style I love and one often found in the world of computer and board games. The drawings visualise the scenes from the book beautifully and fittingly, yet they’re calibrated so that one’s own imagination isn’t constrained. I actually discovered the illustrations online years ago after I first read the book and liked them a lot back then. The illustrations definitely elevate the book further.

The book itself uses sewn binding. Yes, you read that right: sewn binding. That’s not so common these days, and with the coloured—i.e., black—thread, my heart immediately skipped a beat. The book is bound really solidly. And it has two ribbon bookmarks, which is downright decadent, since one would be completely sufficient given there’s no afterword or similar. A luxury much to my taste as the ribbons are perfectly colour-matched. Everything is perfect here, and you immediately notice you’re getting something for your money. In terms of features, every cent seems justified.

The book also comes in a slipcase, which feels very high-quality. It’s covered in black cloth with the title printed in gold, which looks particularly beautiful backlit. The fact that the slipcase is, so to speak, the inverse of the book itself is especially appealing. And the colour coordination of everything shows that someone who knows their craft was at work here.

Included is a thin booklet with additional information and a few illustrations. It’s a nice little extra, though it would probably have fit in the main book as well. From my perspective it’s a pleasant add-on that makes the whole package look a bit more substantial. It also contains the author’s afterword, though that’s rather slight and doesn’t reveal much. I found the sections on the calendar and currency system informative, since those aren’t explained elsewhere in the book.

So is the book a perfect bibliophilic jewel? Sadly, only almost. One weakness showed up while reading: the cover material is delicate. Although I handled the book very carefully and read it only in bed and on my yellow armchair, it had two scratches on the back after a very short time. Around the halfway point, the black imprint on the front board and spine—right at the joint—started to rub off a little, as if I’d opened the book countless times. After just a few days of reading, that felt like rather quick wear. Looking at the cover material, the effect is understandable. I’m not sure what the material is—it looks gorgeous but doesn’t have the durability of sturdy cloth. I suspect you can’t easily apply such an irregular cloud pattern to linen, and that golden sheen likely isn’t easy to achieve either. Classic materials like leather or linen remain unbeaten and have rightly prevailed. I suspect there’s also a financial lever at play, and I’ve noticed with the new Manesse classics reissues that linen is no longer used; instead, another material is employed and given a texture that comes close haptically but isn’t quite the perfect solution for longevity and stability. It remains an open question for me how much the book will suffer with multiple reads or if you take it on a daily commute. The slipcase is a different story; it makes a very robust impression and is covered with a very durable cloth. If you take the book out with you, it’s advisable to transport it in the slipcase. Overall the book does feel very high-quality, and the sewn binding seems very sturdy. In the end it’s a bit like IKEA furniture: you pick up a few small dings during assembly, but then it lasts the next hundred years.

The Name of the Wind is the first volume of The Kingkiller Chronicle and was published in German in 2008. The second book appeared in 2011 and 2012, because in German it was split into two volumes. The third book has been awaited ever since. In 2015 a rather poor novella came out, which left me very disappointed at the time. Since then there’s been no sign of a continuation. It’s almost like George R. R. Martin, who has also taken his time. The internet is rife with speculation, and supposedly Rothfuss has already completed The Doors of Stone and it’s in revision. There’s even a photo of a stack of pages in front of a 1990s keyboard—not exactly confidence-inspiring as a source. There are also rumours of an adaptation, but I didn’t look further into that, since even if one existed, I wouldn’t watch it. Why would I—there’s the book.

Patrick Rothfuss was born in 1973 in Wisconsin, USA, and was apparently a perennial student who studied umpteen subjects and had very broad interests. You can tell he has a lot of experience with university life and that it occupied a large place in his life—The Name of the Wind strongly reflects that focus. You can also see the author’s versatility in the way the book is developed content-wise. The way he describes magic in his world alone is fascinating—it reads like a branch of natural science. He isn’t particularly prolific, though; beyond the two (or three in German) books and the novella he hasn’t published anything else. I very much hope he finishes The Kingkiller Chronicle soon, because the story is beautiful and entertaining and you just want to know how things continue with Kvothe—what made him the Kingkiller—and, of course, with the lovely Denna.

Conclusion: This deluxe edition of The Name of the Wind is simply wonderful. A very entertaining and classically beautiful fantasy story has been packaged here in a gorgeously designed, highly bibliophile, and visually striking book that also features imaginative, well-executed illustrations. Sewn binding, slipcase, two ribbon bookmarks, gilded embossed cover—what more could one want? Unfortunately, the book itself is quite sensitive, so it’s best enjoyed in the home reading chair. All in all, this sumptuous edition is blockbuster-level bookmaking—pure reading pleasure and worth every cent. A clear buy recommendation and an excellent gift for anyone who loves fantasy or Tolkien’s books and appreciates a magnificent volume. I very much hope this is the start of many more such deluxe editions from Klett-Cotta.

Book information: The Name of the Wind • Patrick Rothfuss • Klett-Cotta Hobbit Press • 864 pages • ISBN 9783608938159