There are some authors who sprinkle poetic imagery in their writing like a very expensive spice. A chapter might end with a weighty metaphor. A new character enters the stage with some artful simile. Patrick Rothfuss is not one of those authors. Under his pen, a character can’t cross a room without evoking elder gods, the great cycles of nature, and the petty generosity of humanity. His writing is thick. It is delicious. It is magical.