The Name of the Wind: Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Interlude - Flesh With Blood Beneath

In which Galatea once again picks up the editor's slack.

---

Previously, in The Name of the Wind, everyone except me thought Kvothe was just the tits.

We've reached the first of Rothfuss' "interludes" - brief returns to the framing narrative that clue us in on important goings-on in the present and remind us that the framing narrative actually exists.  God knows, Rothfuss has forgotten it often enough.

In the Waystone Inn there was a silence.

Simile Soup: 52

I'm going to be up front with you: extraordinarily little of note happens for the first couple of pages of this interlude.  Surprising, I know, given how packed with plot the book has been thus far.  That makes this the best opportunity since Chapter 6, since there's no real world-building or narrative momentum going on here, to get specific with how a few small adjustments would have taken this from amateurish to...well, not.

Kvothe had stopped speaking, and while he seemed to be staring down at his folded hands, in reality his eyes were far away. When he finally pulled his gaze upward, he seemed almost surprised to find Chronicler sitting across the table, pen poised above his inkwell.

See, right away we start with a jarring POV shift (and a missing comma).  "...[W]hile he seemed to be staring" suggests an ambiguity that implies the POV of Devan or of the abstract reader: someone who isn't Kvothe, in other words.  But "When he finally pulled his gaze upward" puts us right bang in Kvothe's head, because how would an observer know the effort it's taking for him to shift his gaze?  It's a tiny little thing, but it does make a difference in how smoothly the passage reads, and the little bumps along the way are what alert you to the fact that we're heading into word-padding.
 

Alert The Editor: 102

Kvothe let out his breath self-consciously and motioned Chronicler to set down his pen. After a moment Chronicler complied, wiping the nib of the pen on a clean cloth before setting it down.

Less tiny is the issue of the repeated "set down/setting down".  Possible synonyms for "set" include "put", "lay", and "place", and that's stopping well short of the more unusual/less appropriate synonyms.  You don't have to reach for weird or archaic words to avoid repetition, but avoiding repetition is something a good writer knows to do.

Repetition(epetition): 44

Kvothe announces that he needs a drink, and gets up to go fetch one.

He rose smoothly from the table and began to make his way through the maze of empty tables toward the empty bar.

"Empty tables/empty bar" is clearly deliberate, and that's fine, but if Rothfuss wanted the phrase "empty tables" so badly, then he should have had Kvothe rise smoothly from his chair.

Repetition(epetition): 45

"I can offer you almost anything, dark ale, pale wine, spiced cider, chocolate, coffee....”

Can you offer me a colon, or an ellipsis with only three dots?

Alert The Editor: 104

Also: no you can't.  The previously-established geography and economics of Newarre preclude chocolate and coffee from being anywhere near the Waystone's menu.  We know Newarre is in a temperate region: we have deciduous trees, warm autumns and snowy winters.  Cocoa and coffee are not native to the region; in fact, they're not native to anywhere near the region.  And we know from Chapter 1 that the war has led to choked supply routes and insane inflation; the last time a tinker was in town he had some chocolate (something I should have questioned at the time) but no coffee, and there was no mention of Kvothe buying or trading for anything, since the tinker set up shop outside the Waystone.  During WWII, coffee and chocolate were heavily rationed in both the UK and the US, because anything that wasn't produced from native plants had to be transported along dangerous routes, in vehicles and ships that had an annoying habit of being commandeered for the war effort.  There's just no way that Kvothe has been able to keep a supply of either drink on hand at his nowhere of an inn in this nowhere of a town in the middle of a war.

I Have An Interrogative: 49

Aside from the coffee and chocolate, this list also bears a striking resemblance to the list of fruity liqueurs from Chapter 6.

Repetition(epetition): 46

Which makes it padding.

NaNoPadMo: 31

Chronicler raised an eyebrow. “Chocolate would be wonderful, if you have it. I wouldn’t expect to find that sort of thing this far from...” He cleared his throat politely. “Well, anywhere.”

I don't know if I love or hate that Devan wants to do my job for me.

“We have everything here at the Waystone,” Kvothe said, making an offhand gesture to the empty room.

I said a while ago that the maturity of the writing in the interludes matches up with the maturity of the early chapters, but that isn't always true.  Even when it is, the interludes are also subject to a lot of the exact same problems as the early chapters, like Rothfuss' using "gesture" as a catch-all for every motion a character makes.  I do find myself wondering if all the interludes were written at once, or if they were originally broken up in a different way: both the tone and the mistakes are exceptionally consistent.

Repetition(epetition): 47

He brought an earthenware jug up from underneath the bar, then set it on the bar with a hollow sound.

Shoulda found a synonym for one of those bars.  Poor Rothfuss also appears to have misplaced his modifier.  I'd offer to help search, but that would interfere with my sense of superiority.

Repetition(epetition): 48

Alert The Editor: 105

Kvothe yells, apparently at random, for Bast, who yells back indistinctly from behind the door to the basement.

“Bast,” Kvothe chided, seemingly too quiet to be heard.

Once again, the "seemingly" turns this into a POV nightmare, as well as a trainwreck of a sentence.  "'Almost' too quiet to be heard", or even just "too quiet to be heard" keeps that omniscient third person POV that the framing narrative has been loosely maintaining; "seemingly" puts us in the POV of a particular observer, probably Devan, and begs the question of how he can hear something that is "seemingly too quiet to be heard" in the first bloody place.

Alert The Editor: 106

“Shag down here and get it yourself, you hack!” the voice shouted up from the basement.

Mother Tongue: 17

Newp.  "Shag" is either a euphemism for having sex, in which case it makes zero sense in this context, or it's a reference to a kind of hopping dance from the 1930s, in which case it's anachronistic as fuck.

Bast comes up from the basement, and in a brief switch to semi-decent writing he's described with a lovely sort of restraint, dressed all in black and striking rather than handsome.  Even his joking reproach to Kvothe about dragging him away from a boring book feels more natural than anything that's come out of Kvothe's or Devan's mouths recently.

Kvothe chides Bast for eavesdropping; Bast asks Kvothe how he knew, and Kvothe points out that the book Bast named is, in fact, exceptionally boring.  I wonder if it's this one I'm reading right now.

“What do they do to students at the University who eavesdrop?” Bast asked curiously.

If he's asking, he's curious.  Not every reporting verb needs a modifier.

Alert The Editor: 107

Kvothe brushes Bast off and directs everyone's attention back to Devan, who's been busy noticing things about Bast.

Chronicler seemed anything but bored. As soon as Bast entered the room, Chronicler began to watch him curiously. As the conversation continued, Chronicler’s expression had grown by degrees more puzzled and more intent.

"As soon as Bast had entered the room, Chronicler had begun to watch him curiously."  And stop telling me people and actions "seem" things: it saps all the immediacy out of the action and makes you sound like you're afraid to commit to what's going on in the scene.

Alert The Editor: 109

Repetition(epetition): 50

I also really hate the description of Devan's reaction in terms of his facial expressions, because it also gives us an unnecessary degree of removal from the action.  We're not particularly in anyone's POV at the moment so it probably wouldn't be appropriate to jump into his head and tell us what he's thinking, but I'd rather see action: "Chronicler had looked at Bast with ever greater intensity, the puzzlement in his eyes changing to startled recognition".  Or something like that.

In fairness, something ought to be said about Bast. At first glance, he looked to be an average, if attractive, young man. But there was something different about him. For instance, he wore soft black leather boots. At least, if you looked at him that’s what you saw. But if you happened to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, and if he were standing in the right type of shadow, you might see something else entirely.

More fucking foreplay.  For fuck's sake, it's like reading Chapter 6 all over again, and the temptation to take a hatchet to it is just as strong.  This goes on for three paragraphs.  Three paragraphs of telling us what Bast looks like - which we already know - and what Devan is starting to realise he looks like - which we're about to find out.  Three paragraphs of Rothfuss taking my hand and gently leading me through exactly what's going on in Devan's head and Bast's body, robbing the scene completely of the impact it's supposed to have when Devan actually acts on what he's coming to realise.

Spoiler alert: it's that Bast isn't human.  Which we figured out all the way back in Chapter 1.

NaNoPadMo: 32

 

Over-Reliable Narrator: 8

I really do have to give it one of these too: it's obviously not a first-person fail, but the sudden jump to second person underlines the hand-holding in a way that wouldn't have been nearly as egregious if Rothfuss had just stuck to his mostly-omniscient third person.

Anyway, after three paragraphs of foreplay, Devan finally decides to do something about it.

Chronicler reached inside his shirt and tugged something from around his neck. He set it on the table at arm’s length, between himself and Bast. All this was done in half a second, and his eyes never left the dark-haired young man at the bar. Chronicler’s face was calm as he pressed the metal disk firmly onto the table with two fingers.

“Iron,” he said. His voice sounding with strange resonance, as if it were an order to be obeyed.

As with so many things, Rothfuss is taking a veritable age to describe something that's supposed to be happening in a fraction of a second.  Try this instead:

In half a second, his eyes never leaving the dark-haired man at the bar, Chronicler pulled a metal pendant from beneath his shirt and pressed it firmly onto the table.

"Iron," he said, and the word was an order.

Punctuation adds time in prose - not just in the reading of it but in the sense of time passing in-story.  If something's happening in a fraction of a second, one of the best ways to get that sense of swiftness is to write the action in a single sentence; you're literally not letting your reader pause for breath as they read.  Rothfuss takes four sentences to describe what I just wrote in one: that's four times his readers are pausing for breath and unconsciously slowing the action, and that's not even counting all the additional clauses and unnecessary descriptors that slow things down even further.  Rothfuss could write "All this was done in half a second" in giant pulsating capital letters, and it would still feel like Devan's pulling out the pendant took a good ten seconds or more.

NaNoPadMo: 33

 

Alert The Editor: 111

At risk of sounding like a broken record, it is the editor's fucking job to identify the key moments of a scene and help an author pare away the excess so that those moments have impact.  It is also the editor's job to slap an author right in the dangling participles.

Bast doubled over as if punched in the stomach, baring his teeth and making a noise halfway between a growl and a scream. Moving with an unnatural, sinuous speed, he drew one hand back to the side of his head and tensed himself to spring.

*grumbles* I'm going to end up re-writing the whole fucking interlude, aren't I?  Again:

Bast doubled over, baring his teeth in a guttural scream and tensing to spring and to strike.

See how much faster that moves - how it gives a sense of urgency and immediacy?  Of course, if I weren't trying to use as much of Rothfuss' own language as possible, I might write something like this:

Bast's teeth flashed white as a guttural scream ripped itself from his throat, his slender frame twisting instantly into a wounded beast's defensive crouch.

It's not masterful prose, but notice how, rather than describing each of Bast's actions as they happen, I put the whole thing in context of an injured predator, which instantly does a lot of the heavy descriptive lifting and lets me be very spare with my words.  It's much less important to know exactly what Bast is doing that it is to know the effect Devan's actions have on him, which is to hurt him and to anger him enough to strike back.  By saying Bast's scream "ripped itself from his throat", I also heavily imply that Bast is so startled or hurt that he reacts without thought or control, which both increases the perceived speed of the action and ups the danger level for Devan.  By comparison, Rothfuss' prose makes it feel like every one of Bast's actions is carefully considered, which absolutely destroys the impact of Devan's trying to bind him with iron.

NaNoPadMo: 34

 

Alert The Editor: 113

The editor should also have pointed out that "sinuous speed" is the exact phrase Rothfuss uses to describe the movement of the scrael in Chapter 4.  Unless Rothfuss is deliberately inviting comparison between Bast and the scrael, that's too specific a phrase to be using for two unrelated things.

Repetition(epetition): 51

It all happened in the time it takes to draw a sharp breath.

Bullshit.

Still, somehow, Kvothe’s long-fingered hand caught Bast’s wrist. Unaware or uncaring, Bast leaped toward Chronicler only to be brought up short, as if Kvothe’s hand were a shackle. Bast struggled furiously to free himself, but Kvothe stood behind the bar, arm outstretched, motionless as steel or stone.

And this is all perfectly fine.  This is the point where the action should slow, as what we expect to be a fight between Devan and Bast is stopped short by Kvothe's intervention.

Kvothe tells Bast and Devan they're both pretty and that he won't have them fighting over it.  Devan releases the binding and Bast, rather shaken from having been bound in the first place, decides listening to Kvothe is probably a good idea.

And he had changed. The eyes that watched Chronicler were still a striking ocean blue, but now they showed themselves to be all one color, like gems or deep forest pools, and his soft leather boots had been replaced with graceful cloven hooves.

The description of Bast's true form is fine; it's not breathtaking but it gets the job done.  It could, in fact, be extremely effective - if, once a-fucking-gain, the reveal hadn't been buried under PARAGRAPHS AND PARAGRAPHS OF WANK.

Imagine this: Rothfuss (or his editor) cuts out those three awful paragraphs of being all coy about what you might see if you looked at Bast with exactly the right sort of enlightened mindset in just the right kind of light.  All we know is that Bast looks human but maybe isn't, and that a probably-still-concussed Devan is looking at him funny.  Devan reaches a moment of realisation - but we don't yet know what - and sets the iron pendant down with the spoken binding.  Bast goes apeshit.  It isn't until Kvothe steps in and the flurry of anger and action stops that we, the readers, finally see Bast in his true form: a form much less human than even we were expecting.

Despite the mostly-omniscient third person narration, Devan is still the closest thing we have to a POV character in the framing narrative.  After all: he's the one learning Kvothe's story at the same rate as the readers.  That means that, for a reveal to have impact, the readers have to discover it at the same time as Devan.  Instead of having Bast's true form hit us as a "wow" moment, we spend the better part of a page twiddling our thumbs and waiting for Devan to catch up, which is boring.  The impression shouldn't be "Bast's weird; Devan, do something about it!" - it should be "Devan just did something to Bast but why what's happening holy shit did not see that coming!"

NaNoPadMo: 35

 Kvothe motioned Chronicler forward imperiously, then turned to grab two thick glasses and a bottle seemingly at random. He set the glasses down as Bast and Chronicler eyed each other uneasily.

Every single action in that paragraph has an unnecessary modifier.  As usual, "seemingly" is the worst because it drains immediacy from the action and agency from the character.

Repetition(epetition): 60

My ebook search helpfully tells me that characters "seem" to do things nine times in this chapter, so I'm counting them all.

Kvothe decides to instruct Devan and Bast in the ways of playing nice, and begins by introducing Devan formally to Bast.  To my absolute shock and amazement, he manages to list Devan's qualifications - including the fact that he is a member of the Arcanum - without the slightest bit of snark or condescension.

Chronicler stood impassively throughout the introduction, watching Bast as if he were a snake.

IF HE IS "WATCHING BAST AS IF HE WERE A SNAKE" THEN DEVAN IS SHOWING SOME FUCKING EMOTION, WHICH IS THE EXACT FUCKING OPPOSITE OF WHAT "IMPASSIVELY" MEANS, YOU DIM BODGER.

Alert The Editor: 114

Kvothe introduces Bast, who is about a sesquicentury old and has more names than he needs.  Kvothe, Bast and Devan bicker about who attacked whom first, and Kvothe once again tells them that they're both pretty and they need to play nice.

Repetition(epetition): 61

Kvothe’s voice grew quiet, “If you do not stop this foolishness, you may both leave now. One of you will be left with a slim sliver of story, and the other can search out a new teacher. If there is one thing I will not abide, it is the folly of a willful pride.”

Two things.  One: Kvothe is full of shit.  We already know that if Devan tries to go anywhere before Kvothe is completely done with him, Kvothe plans to lop his head off with the ur-sword or have Bast slip cyanide into his mead or something.

Two: holy shit, did that rhyme?  Is Rothfuss trying to sneak poetry by me?

"If there is one thing I will not abide, it is the folly of a willful pride.”

Rothfuss, you whore!

Kvothe The Raven: 4

Actually, now that I think about it, there's this from Chapter 12...

“It’s all a chase, and when the race is done, I think I pity women chaste who run.”

...and this from Chapter 6...

“Old wine, smooth and pale? Honey mead? Dark ale? Sweet fruit liquor! Plum? Cherry? Green apple? Blackberry?”

Kvothe The Raven: 6

I...I genuinely don't get it.  Is he trying to pull a Deadwood on us?  Does he think this sounds profound?  Is he trying to exorcise his shame at being a shit poet by sneaking ninja rhymes into his prose?  I do not understand what is going on here!

Something about the low intensity of Kvothe’s voice broke the stare between them. And when they turned to look at him it seemed that someone very different was standing behind the bar. The jovial innkeeper was gone, and in his place stood someone dark and fierce.

This, on the other hand, I understand as having stepped into a portal and warped back to Chapter 6.

Repetition(epetition): 62

Devan muses about how Kvothe somehow looks either older or younger (or possibly both) than he really is, Kvothe's eyes change colour again, Devan considers that maybe he's stepped right into a story, and I swear to God I read this exact thing a couple hundred pages ago.

Repetition(epetition): 65

Is This The Real Life: 20

Devan and Bast shake hands, and it reads exactly like two six-year-olds in a playground shaking hands because the teacher told them to.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Kvothe addressed them bitingly. “Five fingers and flesh with blood beneath. One could almost believe that on the other end of that hand lay a person of some sort.”

Title Drop: 18

Kvothe transforms back into the innkeeper...

Repetition(epetition): 66

...and leaves Bast and Devan to make some sort of peace over a bottle of some sort of booze while he goes downstairs to get food.

The two at the table began a tense, halting conversation as Kvothe moved into the kitchen.

You know what would have been orders of magnitude more interesting than all the waffle and wank and repetition and playground politics we've just seen?  That conversation.

Devan, an educated pragmatist who does not believe in demons except that he survived being attacked by them a couple of nights ago, just encountered a member of the Fae for the first time.  Bast, who has been hanging around the Waystone without incident for ages, confident that no one who shows up in the middle of nowhere will so much as recognise him for what he is, just got magically bound by a complete stranger.  Bast is thoroughly invested in returning Kvothe to the Kvothe he once was, and Devan's come digging to do just that.  The things these two could discuss with each other are fascinating - far more fascinating than re-hashing the same old same old about Kvothe looking more or less like an innkeeper than he normally does.  So, of course, we don't get to hear a word of it.

Kvothe brings up some bread, cheese and sausages, the three move to a bigger table, Devan thinks once again about how convincing Kvothe's placid innkeeper routine is...

Repetition(epetition): 67

...and Bast admits that he eavesdropped thoroughly enough that Kvothe shouldn't have to repeat anything.  My sanity praises Bast's keen ears.

“That’s good. We don’t have time to backtrack.” He drew a deep breath. “Let’s get back to it then. Brace yourselves, the story takes a turn now. Downward. Darker. Clouds on the horizon.”

Oh shut up, you pretentious nit.

Alert The Editor: 122

 

NaNoPadMo: 36

We just left the narrative proper for a full 2200 words of NOTHING HAPPENING.  How can a book this big be this BORING?

---

Counts:

 

Alert The Editor: 122

Face The Music: 10

I Have An Interrogative: 49

I Know Stuff: 19

Is This The Real Life: 20

Kvothe The Raven: 6

Ladies And Gentlemen: 19

Mother Tongue: 17

NaNoPadMo: 35

Over-Reliable Narrator: 8

Repetition(epetition): 67

Simile Soup: 52

Stu Stew: 51

Tinker, tailor: 3

Title Drop: 18

You Fucking Sociopath: 3