I’ve discovered a shiny new treasure. His name is Patrick Rothfuss. Looking for something to read over Christmas, and wanting that ‘something’ to be as unconnected to my reality as possible, I came across a series of books called The Kingkiller Chronicals. From the opening – “It was night again. The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.” I was hooked. Patrick Rothfuss writes lyrically. He is music, and hence, perfect for me.
I made my way through The Name of the Wind (book one) and before I was finished (2 days) I downloaded the second (The Wise Man’s Fear) as well as the third (The Slow Regard of Silent Things…what a title!!). As I started The Wise Man’s Fear I was delighted to discover 1375 iBook pages lay before me. Big fat books make me ridiculously happy, knowing there’s time to linger with the characters, I can settle in for a proper visit. At the end of those delicious 1375 pages, I went straight to The Slow Regard of Silent Things, immediately checking out the number of pages I’d be merrily journeying with my new friends…and was horrified to find 147. Not 1477, only 147! “Well”, – I thought – “there must be some mistake”. Surely I’d downloaded it wrong. I cursed my iPad. Then I read the first sentence in the Author’s Foreword ‘You might not want to buy this book.’ I was intrigued. I kept reading for all 147 pages. Past a sentence and back again to savour it, sometimes 4 or 5 times. I read “He was emberant, Incarnadine. He was bright with better bright beneath, like copper-gilded gold.” (I read that at least 10 times – highlighted, tweeted and saved it). And the almost final lines “Auri spun about three times. She smelled the air. She grinned. All around her everything was proper true. She knew exactly where she was. She was exactly where she ought to be.” 147 iBook pages of perspective-changing wonder.
Patrick Rothfuss says, in an Authors Endnote “i cannot help but wonder how many of us walk through our lives, day after day, feeling slightly broken and alone, surrounded all the time by others who feel exactly the same way…….This story is for all the slightly broken people out there. I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me.” I put my head in my hands and cried. They were not sad tears.
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime’s argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
A little bit broken. Fragile. Full of wonder. Copper-gilded Gold. Bright with better bright beneath. Bad-ass, brave, bold and broken.
“The you who you are tonight is the same you I was in love with yesterday, the same you I’ll be in love with tomorrow. I love that you’re fragile and tough, quiet and kick-ass.”
― Gayle Forman, If I Stay
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are