I liked it but it was basically just Auri having OCD. ( )

A difficult rating.

I could see what Patrick Rothfuss was trying to do, and on that count, I felt he did very well. The atmospheric perspective of Auri was amazingly captured, and both the prose as well as the narrative style contributed to (in Rothfuss' own words) a vignette of the Underthing and its mysterious inhabitant which was powerful and evocative.

But, to put it bluntly, it didn't engage me me, and I found it difficult to connect with or comprehend what Auri was doing or feeling. The further I got into The Slow Regard of Silent Things, the more I felt that the appeal of Auri's character in the main series derives from her contrast to the 'normal' world and her special relationship with Kvothe, and reading a 'week in the life of Auri' just made her feel more pedestrian.

The illustrations were awesome though! ( )

"And if you were careful, if you were a proper part of things, then you could help. You mended what was cracked. You tended to the things you found askew. And you trusted that the world in turn would brush you up against the chance to eat. It was the only graceful way to move. All else was vanity and pride." ( )

I went into this knowing it would be odd; the author tells us so at the start. I wanted to learn more about Auri, but all I did was confirm that she probably suffers from OCD and may have been sexually assaulted at some point. It’s beautifully written, but not really my cup of tea. ( )

La Universidad; el bastión del conocimiento; atrae a las mentes más brillantes; que acuden para aprender los misterios de ciencias como la artificería y la alquimia. Sin embargo; bajo esos edificios y sus concurridas aulas existe un mundo en penumbras que solo unos pocos conocen. En ese laberinto de túneles antiguos; de salas y habitaciones abandonadas; de escaleras serpenteantes y pasillos semiderruidos vive Auri. Tiempo atrás fue alumna de la Universidad. Ahora cuida de la Subrealidad; para ella un lugar acogedor; maravilloso; en el que podría pasarse la eternidad. Ha aprendido que hay otros misterios que no conviene remover; es mejor dejarlos en paz. Ya no se deja engañar por la lógica en la que tanto confían en lo alto: ella sabe reconocer los sutiles peligros y los nombres olvidados que se ocultan bajo la superficie de las cosas. La música del silencio es una historia lírica y evocadora que ofrece a los lectores de El nombre del viento y El temor de un hombre sabio la oportunidad de ver ese mundo a través de los ojos de Auri; uno de sus personajes favoritos; y de descubrir cosas que hasta ahora solo ella sabía. ( )