The Name of the Wind

“Though I didn’t know it at the time, I was looking for the name of the wind.” 

The first major event of Kvothe’s young life is meeting Abenthy, the arcanist. This happens when his family’s troupe enters a small town and has a bit of trouble convincing the town’s officials to let the group stay and perform there. Later, Kvothe sees another man having similar trouble. When Kvothe learns that Abenthy is an arcanist, he has no qualms about welcoming the man in. Abenthy’s ability to perform real magic moves and amazes Kvothe: “The sort of magic I’d heard about in stories of Taborlin the Great. The sort of magic I hadn’t believed in since I was six” (64). This chance meeting latently ignites Kvothe’s life-long pursuit of knowledge.

“‘You need to learn your letters before you can write. You need to learn the fingerings on the strings before you play and sing.’”

Rothfuss devotes much of the text to the principles of sympathy. Kvothe learns how to perform this magic from the beginning, and this functions as a literary device that allows readers to understand the way sympathy works for future reference while helping to build the world and establish the main characters’ personalities. Abenthy explains to Kvothe that he must properly learn sympathy before he can call the wind, even though the willful boy wants to skip ahead in his lessons.

“My parents danced together, her head on his chest. Both had their eyes closed. They seemed so perfectly content. If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the word with, you’re lucky. Even if it lasts for a minute or a day.”

Kvothe’s parents die just after this touching scene, yet their relationship continues to deeply influence Kvothe: “The image of them gently swaying to the music is how I picture love in my mind even after all these years” (108). The scene is important as the precursor to their deaths, for it is on this night that they sing the song that Kvothe’s father has been composing about the Chandrian. It is also important because it introduces the song called “The Lay of Sir Savien Traliard,” which is the one Kvothe later sings to gain his silver pipes at the Eolian.

“‘I would pass over the whole of that evening, in fact. I would spare you the burden of any of it if one piece were not necessary to the story. It is vital. It is the hinge upon which the whole of the story like an opening door. In some ways, this is where the story begins.’” 

The tragedy that Kvothe experiences in losing his parents is the most traumatic of his life. It is also the most seminal in that it directly leads him to his experiences on the streets of Tarbean and influences how his education at the University unfolds. It isn’t just the massacre itself that is important, however; it’s also his encounter with the Chandrian and the shadowy man that we learn may be Lanre himself. This encounter colors the entire story and the rest of Kvothe’s life. 

“That day I learned two things. I learned why beggars stay Waterside, and I learned that no matter what the church might tell you, Midwinter is a time for demons.” 

As he recounts his experience in Tarbean, Kvothe is not talking about true, supernatural demons. He is speaking of humans who do horrible things to one another simply because they can. He has strayed into the rich area of town, Hillside, only to find that his ragged appearance works against him. A man dressed as Encanis, the Lord of Demons, helps Kvothe, while a guard abuses the begging boy. This demonstrates that appearance can be deceptive.

“‘But we are all creatures of habit. It is far too easy to stay in the familiar ruts we dig for ourselves. Perhaps I even viewed as far. My punishment for not being there to help when the Chandrian came. My punishment for not dying when I should have, with the rest of my family.’” 

Rothfuss uses the “Interlude” chapters in The Name of the Wind to highlight certain events, shed light on his present-day characters, and to explain some of the seeming plot holes in Kvothe’s story. Here, he is explaining why Kvothe, young as he was, stayed in the streets of Tarbean instead of traveling to his friend Ben or taking some other tack: Kvothe was young and grieving, and he suffered from survivor’s guilt. Kvothe’s exceptional memory helps him remember this too clearly: “Emotions by their nature are not reasonable things” (169). 

“‘There is no good story that doesn’t touch the truth.’” 

Kvothe says this to Skarpi, the storyteller who first appears early in the book as a friend of Kvothe’s who once traveled with Chronicler. Skarpi’s stories help awaken Kvothe’s mind, and in return, Kvothe is quoting something his father used to say. He is trying to make conversation with the man because Skarpi’s stories moved him, but the quote also touches upon an important theme in this book: the power and importance of stories. 

“I spent the rest of that night opening the doors of my mind. Inside I found things long forgotten: my mother fitting words together for a song, diction for the stage, three recipes for tea to calm nerves and promote sleep, finger scales for the lute.” 

After three years of wandering around Tarbean in squalid conditions, Kvothe re-discovers himself following Skarpi’s arrest. In this chapter, he finds that his memories of his family are less bitter and that he can once again call upon the skills that Ben has taught him to calm and sharpen his mind. He also remembers things that may be less significant to others but are important to him. In the process, he also remembers the Chandrian. Although revenge is something beyond him, since he is still only 15 years old, he has questions that he can only find answers to at the University. His long-awaited ambitions awaken as well. 

“The closeness of her was the sweetest, sharpest thing my life had ever known.” 

Kvothe falls in love for the first time while traveling to the University with a caravan. His teenage courtship is short and awkward, involving “a slow dance around Denna” (215) and moments of happiness on watch together, along with a night walking through a forest behind their inn. He and Denna part ways when he goes to the University, but she returns to his life in an unexpected and dramatic fashion, continuing a relationship that defines Kvothe’s world. 

“‘Admit me for more than two jots and I will not be able to attend. Admit me for less and I will be here every day, while every night I will do what it takes to stay alive while I study here. I will sleep in alleys and stables, wash dishes for kitchen scraps, beg pennies to buy pens. I will do whatever it takes.’” 

When he gets to admissions at the University, Kvothe must come in front of the nine masters, who determine admission prices based on merit. He sticks around and watches other students go through their oral admissions tests. When it is his turn, he answers difficult questions and does it well. When the masters ask him why he wants to attend, he thinks of revenge, his dreams, and how he’d like to become “so powerful that no one will ever be able to hurt [him] again” (234). With finality, Kvothe asks a favor of these masters: “But admit me free, and give me three talents so I can live and buy what I need to learn properly, and I will be a student the likes of which you have never seen before” (235). His determination is so impressive that the masters admit him at a price of -3 talents.

“‘Anyone who thinks boys are innocent and sweet has never been a boy himself or has forgotten it. And anyone who thinks men aren’t hurtful and cruel and times must not leave his house often.’” 

Following Kvothe’s masterful demonstration of the basic principles of sympathy in front of his class, Master Hemme lodges two grievances against the boy—unauthorized use of sympathy leading to injury and malfeasance. Once the masters hear the whole story, the charge whittles down to reckless use of sympathy, but the punishment is still three lashes. Afterward, Kvothe goes to Master Arwyl for aid, and Arwyl is disapproving of Kvothe’s use of nahlrout to numb the pain of the whip. Kvothe explains that all his enemies are waiting for a sign of weakness, including Master Hemme. Arwyl’s acknowledgment of Kvothe’s predicament surprises Kvothe. 

“Ambrose wasn’t half the bastard I thought he was. He was ten times the bastard.” 

Kvothe’s overriding concern upon entering the University is getting access to the Archives, where he can search out more information about the Chandrian. However, Ambrose stymies him several times, engineering a plot that gets Kvothe completely banned from the Archives. When Kvothe talks with his friends about his new enemy, he discovers that Ambrose is a formidable noble with money and connections. Ambrose is to figure prominently in Kvothe’s story, as an obstacle and a man who wishes to actively harm Kvothe due to his hatred and jealousy. 

“Music is a proud, temperamental mistress. Give her the time and attention she deserves, and she is yours. Slight her and there will come a day when you call and she will not answer.” 

After three years without an instrument, Kvothe begins to play music again. However, he faces the challenge of balancing his lute playing and his studies, and his musical progress is slow due to the “temperamental” nature of music. As Kvothe’s conflicting responsibilities overwhelm him, his friends intervene to lighten his schedule and allow Kvothe more time for the lute. Music and lute playing help save Kvothe: It calms his mind, brings Auri and Denna to him, and allows him financial security. 

“‘I hope this place is as good as everyone seems to think it is,’ I said earnestly. ‘I need a place to burn.’” 

Confident of his skills, Kvothe says this upon entering the Eolian for the first time. He hopes to earn his pipes—to receive the silver token that means he can play his lute for money as one of the best performers in town. He is responding to owner Stanchion’s statement: “I could use someone around here with Illien’s fire” (361). When Kvothe picks a difficult song and gambles that someone in the audience can sing the female part, he is self-assured in his abilities. As Kvothe loses himself in the music, he breaks a string. However, this snafu does not deter his performance because his extremely poor background has taught him how to play well on a lute with only six strings.

“‘What good can come of this? How can I make any sense of her for you when I have never understood the least piece of her myself?’” 

In this interlude chapter, Kote expresses the frustration of describing the woman who is clearly the lost love of his life. He says she has an easy smile, naturally red lips, and that she was not loud or vain but with a light inside her that warms and draws people to her. When Chronicler copies this quote down, Kote demands that he remove it. Kote has trouble putting Denna into cohesive words, which communicates to readers exactly how important she is to Kote and the looming presence she is to become in his life. 

“Once the room was moderately quiet I began to play. By the time I struck the third chord everyone knew what it was: ‘Tinker Tanner.’ The oldest song in the world.” 

of his own imagining, into many places in the book as a casual manifestation of the way music is used and valued in this world. It’s clearly a well-loved song that gets people in any inn up, clapping, stomping, and dancing. It also emphasizes the motif of the tinker that occurs throughout the story. In Chapter 62, Kvothe uses this song in an interactive way to get the inn excited to continue the music without him while he slips away with Denna.

“‘Don’t think I am unaware, some startled deer to stand transfixed by the hunter’s horns. It’s she who should take care, for when she strikes, my heart will make a sound so beautiful and bight that it can’t help but bring her back to me in winged flight.’” 

With such little experience of women, Kvothe knows what he wants but is unsure of how to proceed with Denna. As a result, his courtship is slow and awkward. His attempts to better know the beautiful young woman come with warnings from the Eolian’s Deoch, who tries to warn Kvothe multiple times about heartbreak when it comes to Denna, calling her “a waterfall of spark pouring off an iron edge that God is holding to the grindstone. You can help but look, can’t help but want it” (444). Kvothe doesn’t listen and waxes poetic about his feelings. 

“‘This isn’t the hand of some swooning princess who sits tatting lace and waiting for some prince to save her. This is the hand of a woman who would climb a rope of her own hair to freedom or kill a captor ogre in his sleep.’” 

Kvothe has his first taste of being a hero when, one day in Kilvin’s workshop, a caustic and volatile substance catches fire. He saves the Fela, who later meets him at the Eolian to thank him. Her own panic embarrasses her, and she wishes that she were brave and less like the “silly girls in those stories [her] mother used to read [her]” (461). As a thank-you gift, she replaces Kvothe’s cloak with a forest green one, which has plenty of pockets. The narrative leaves readers with the impression that she likes Kvothe romantically. This quote also shows off Kvothe’s compassionate nature, as he seeks to comfort his female friend as she expresses disappointment in her own actions. 

“‘See a woman pale as snow? / Silent come and silent go. / What’s their plan? What’s their plan? / Chandrian. Chandrian.’” 

The children’s song that most people of this Four Corners world know evokes the mysterious, dangerous people known as the Chandrian, naming symbols such as blue fire and swords turning to rust as indicators that they are around. These are things Kvothe has seen in his tragic dealings with the Chandrian and thee clues he intends to use to find them. When he hears word that an unusual massacre has happened at a farm, he drops his studies, borrows money, and hightails it to the site to find out more. There, he encounters Denna, who assists him in his quest for the truth and recites this chant. He sees signs of the Chandrian at the site of the massacre, which is his first secondhand encounter with them since his parents’ death. This chant also highlights the importance of music in this world, as songs reveal the truth. As Kvothe says in the beginning of the story, “You’d be surprised at the sorts of things hidden away in children’s songs” (37).

“But there in that room was the first time I actually felt like any sort of hero. If you are looking for a reason for the man I would eventually become, if you are looking for a beginning, look there.” 

Kvothe realizes that the people of Trebon view him as a mysterious wizard who has come to free them of a horrible demon. He uses this to seek out information, asking the people what they know about Mauthen’s secret discovery. He knows that this find is what caused the wedding massacre. Finally, a girl (Nina) comes to him and reveals that the dead family found a fancy pot with pictures and writing depicting the Chandrian and their signs. She is terrified that the demons will come to get her too, so Kvothe fashions a token for her that he tells her will keep her safe, then recites some words in the Tema language for her. Kvothe notes that he has done other heroic deeds, but this is the first one that made him feel like the hero.

“There is nothing quite so delightfully mysterious as a secret in your own backyard.” 

After months of friendship with the quirky and sweet Auri, Kvothe asks her if she will show him the Underthing, her domain. The Underthing is a network of tunnels and pipes under the University, used to transport water, sewage, steam, and gas. Kvothe clearly has an idea that this vast region may get him close to his goal—admission to the Archives. Exploring the Underthing, however, is its own pleasure, and Auri is excited to show Kvothe her home. The deeper they descend, the stranger things become. They encounter ancient machines, for example, which readers must speculate about. Ultimately, Kvothe reaches his goal and gains entry to the great library for which he has been yearning.

“‘All of this is my Fault. The scrael, the war. All my fault.’” 

Kote takes the blame for all the negative things happening in the present day, although readers do not learn how the events connect to him. This promises that in the two sequels readers will learn the whole story of Kvothe, though how is uncertain. However, this ambiguous confession indicates that guilt burdens Kote.

“‘It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.’” 

Bast explains to Chronicler what he sees happening to Kote, as well as what happened to the Kvothe of the past. Before, people saw Kvothe as a hero, so he played the part and eventually the part became him. Today, people see Kote as a mere innkeeper. Bast has lured Chronicler to the inn to help Kote rediscover his heroic self. Bast won’t allow Chronicler to veer from his plan, even though Chronicler believes it isn’t his place to influence events—only to report them. His threat cows the older man quite thoroughly and illuminates the personalities of both characters.