CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
Let’s see what’s in store for Kvothe in this chapter! Will he have sex some more??? On an entirely unrelated topic, we are now well over 75% of the way to the end.
VASHET AND I FOUGHT, moving back and forth across the foothills of Ademre.
This is conjuring up really weird mental images of Kvothe and Vashet having a huge Dragonball Z-style battle. Actually given DBZ’s abysmal pacing that’s a pretty apt comparison.
“Why do we spend so much time on my hand fighting?” I asked Vashet as I made Picking Clover.
Would martial artists really refer to it as “hand fighting”? It sounds like they’re having thumb wars.
Anyway they’re fighting and some bullshit happens, I don’t really care any more, Kvothe keeps fighting Celean and usually gets his ass kicked, only managing to beat her for the first time after three days of sparring.
That’s an interesting verse to add to the long story of my life, isn’t it?
“Interesting”, eh? You really want to start pulling on that thread?
To my horror Kvothe does indeed compose a little poe- I mean, song, about defeating Celean for the first time.
And of the time he bravely fought A twigling girl no more than ten. And listen how it came to pass, The mighty blow he bravely dealt
That knocked her sprawling to the grass, And of the glow of joy he felt.
I am choosing to interpret this as “Kvothe enjoys hitting kids” and nothing anyone says will change my mind.
Seriously though, this does raise the question of how safe it actually is for Kvothe to be fighting Celean. I know she’s supposed to be way better at fighting, but Kvothe has a point when he says he’s physically stronger- it would only take one lucky shot to potentially do serious damage, especially since they appear to be doing full-contact sparring.
There, in the long shadow of the sword tree, she showed me her two-handed variant of Breaking Lion as a reward, flattering me with the familiarity of an impish grin.
I think this might be one of the worst sentences we’ve come across so far. Yes, worse than that one. And that one too. And- okay it’s up there, alright?
After one of their fights Celean dashes under the canopy of the sword tree, which if you remember has hella sharp leaves that will cut you real bad if they touch you, and uses her martial arts prowess (or possibly bullet time) to swat the falling leaves away before they damage her.
She didn’t shout out in triumph as a Commonwealth child might have, but she jumped into the air, hands raised in victory. Then, still laughing, she did a cartwheel.
Gosh that totally doesn’t sound like something a real kid would do, the Adem sure are a vibrant and well-developed fictional culture.
Vashet shows up and is all pissed, so I guess people aren’t supposed to do this. And…. then the chapter ends. Well that sure had a reason to exist.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN
Vashet arranges for Kvothe to talk to people to improve his Ademese some more.
There was a garrulous old man who spun silk thread while chattering endlessly, telling strange, pointless, half-delirious stories.
(Image unrelated to preceding text)
Kvothe talks to a cook in the fantasy cafeteria who used to be a mercenary until he got most of his fingers cut off on a mission. He’s there to lay some Truefacts on Kvothe, who’s been hesitant in sword practice in case something happens to his hands, him being a musician and all.
I think: What if I had not taken that contract? I think: What if I had lost my left hand? I could not talk, but I could hold a sword.
Wait, are they using their sword one-handed? Doesn’t most sword combat require two hands? I know there are one-handed swords but it was my understanding they were used with one hand to hold a shield in the other hand, and there’s been no mention of the Adem using shields.
Then he said, “When I dream, I have two hands.”
😦 😦 😦
I feel more emotion for this guy, who shows up in all of two pages, then any other person we’ve seen so far.
Celean had a lesson of her own to teach me. Namely that there are opponents who will not hesitate to punch, kick, or elbow a man directly in his genitals.
Celean is rapidly becoming my favourite character.
Kvothe tries to get Vashet to teach him more sword fighting instead of “hand fighting” and she goes off on an utterly nonsensical rant about how the purpose of the sword isn’t to win fights, and having a sword doesn’t actually make you more likely to win against an opponent who’s also carrying a sword (pretty sure it actually does).
“Why do you carry anything? So you can use it.”
Vashet gave me a look of raw disgust. “Why do we bother to work on your language, then?” She asked angrily, reaching out to grab my jaw, pinching my cheeks and forcing my mouth open as if I were a patient in the Medica refusing my medicine. “Why do you need this tongue if a sword will do? Tell me that?”
That doesn’t make any sense.
“Why do you have hands at all and not knives at the ends of your arms?”
That makes even less sense.
“Do you think I am teaching you the secrets of the sword so you can go out and use them?”
……yes? That is the point or learning how to fight with a sword, right?
Then she just walks off without actually explaining what the fuck she was talking about. I don’t think many competent teachers of any subject would agree that beating the shit out of your students when they make a mistake and then storming off in a rage is conducive to learning. It comes across more like Vashet has serious anger management issues.
God, this book.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY
Kvothe is moping in the fantasy-cafeteria when Centhe, the woman who beat Shehyn a while back, sits next to him.
For all that, she wasn’t very old. Perhaps it was her small frame or her heart-shaped face, but she didn’t look much more than twenty.
LA LA LA I DIDN’T JUST READ THAT MOVING ON
Penthe gave a small, shy smile, then covered her mouth with her hand, blushing slightly.
Denna has shed her mortal frame and taken another body! Run Kvothe, run!
Penthe speaks some Kvotheland-ese so she asks Kvothe to teach her how to smile and fill the void in her heart (presumably).
“This?” I asked, gesturing mild worry.
She nodded. “How do you make that with the face?”
She doesn’t remember how to make facial expressions? But the Adem so it when they’re younger, shouldn’t she still remember on some level?
“I understand,” I said. “I am very good at speaking in my language. I can make the cleverest meanings.
Sure, Kvothe. Whatever you say.
Penthe tells Kvothe that not all of the Adem hate him, then the book takes another trip into tweeville.
Penthe looked up at me and met my eyes then. They were huge in her small face, slightly darker grey than usual.
They were so bright and clear that when she smiled, the sight of it almost broke my heart.
Fuck this, let’s watch Breaking Bad.
Anyway they flirt awkwardly for a while and and Kvothe composes a song/poem to her, because we needed more of that.
No sword in hand,
Her flower-mouth curves,
And cuts a heart a dozen steps away.
Okay, this must be self-parody by now. “Double-weaponed Penthe”? Seriously?
Felurian had had a beautiful smile, but it was old and knowing. Penthe’s smile was bright as a new penny. It was like cool water on my dry, tired heart.
You’re fucking seventeen shut the fuck up.
Then Penthe composes her own poem that’s even worse but the gist of the scene is that they want to furiously bone each other. Of course.
Kvothe goes for his next lesson with Vashet and it turns out that she’s still super-mad about Kvothe implying that he wants to learn how to use a sword so he can use a sword better. For some reason.
“Early on I noticed a gentleness in you. It is a rare thing in one so young, and it was a large piece of what convinced me you were worth teaching. But as the days pass, I glimpse something else. Some other face that is far from gentle. I have dismissed these as flickers of false light, thinking them the brags of a young man or the odd jokes of a barbarian.
“But today as you spoke, it came to me that the gentleness was the mask. And this other half-seen face, this dark and ruthless thing, that is the true face hiding underneath.”
What is she talking about
NONE OF THIS MAKES ANY SENSE
Is this supposed to be about Kvothe killing all those bandits- you know, the thing he had to do to ensure the safety of him and the people he was leading? What exactly about Kvothe’s statements earlier reveal some sort of monster lurking below the surface? All he literally said was “if I knew how to fight with a sword better I could defend myself if my opponent has a sword” it’s not like he was expressing his intention to find the nearest orphanage and go on a killing spree.
Vashet tells Kvothe she’s considering having him killed due to THE DARKNESS WITHIN or whatever the fuck and she’ll reach her decision the next day.
This is seriously the worst book I’ve ever read. The Name Of The WInd was more boring, but this is just a god-awful mess. Rothfuss’ editor, his publisher and anyone who looked at this garbage before publication and reacted in any way other than to invent a time machine in order to retro-actively stop it from being created should hang their head in shame.
I swear to God, if this is another secret test of character. Do not even think about it, Rothfuss.
As I stared at myself in the mirror I felt a low anger flicker to life deep in my belly. I was, I decided, tired of waiting helplessly while others decided whether I could come or go.
Fucking finally, Kvothe decides to actually do something instead of sitting around waiting for the plot to come to him. And it only took the dumbest plot development in the history of the written word to make it happen.
Kvothe steals various objects he intends to use for wizarding. It’s been so long since Kvothe did any wizarding I was actually starting to forget he could wizard.
I closed my fist tightly around the last. Most people don’t understand how much heat water holds inside it. That is why it takes so long to boil.
The boiling point of a liquid is entirely relative depending on the pressure of the surrounding environment. Water boils at toom temperature in a vacuum.
Despite the fact that the scalding-hot pool I had pulled this from was more than half a mile away, what I held in my hand was of better use to a sympathist than a glowing coal. This water had fire in it.
Then why the fuck didn’t you do that back at the bandit camp? Also that makes no sense with what we’ve been told of how sympathy works. Did no one actually read this before it went off to the publishers?
So Kvothe is going to do something drastic with magic. Whoopee, something’s finally happening.