I’ll probably get downvoted for it, but The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. The protagonist of the novel, first in a series, is the best example of a Marty Stu I have ever encountered in a book; Kvothe is the dullest, most offensively boring protagonist it has ever been my misfortune to meet. There’s absolutely zero narrative tension because the situation always boils down to “Kvothe wins immediately or Kvothe wins harder two chapters later.”
I peaced out around two-thirds of the way through. Amusingly one of my complaints, that the book had an unnecessarily high amount of smut for something not advertised as, gets even worse in the second book. No thanks
This is exactly how I felt. There is always a response that “it’s intentional. Unreliable narrator…blah blah blah.” Which doesn’t make it better. It’s that “jokes on them I was only pretending” meme, but in literary form.
I’ll probably get downvoted for it, but The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. The protagonist of the novel, first in a series, is the best example of a Marty Stu I have ever encountered in a book; Kvothe is the dullest, most offensively boring protagonist it has ever been my misfortune to meet. There’s absolutely zero narrative tension because the situation always boils down to “Kvothe wins immediately or Kvothe wins harder two chapters later.”
I peaced out around two-thirds of the way through. Amusingly one of my complaints, that the book had an unnecessarily high amount of smut for something not advertised as, gets even worse in the second book. No thanks
This is exactly how I felt. There is always a response that “it’s intentional. Unreliable narrator…blah blah blah.” Which doesn’t make it better. It’s that “jokes on them I was only pretending” meme, but in literary form.