Oh boy, hope you're ready for this one. Measuring over 4.4 million words in just the main series and with 2,782 named characters, Wheel of Time is an absolute titan of fantasy, one you've probably been interested in tackling if you enjoy written fantasy. My recommendation: don't. I started reading it in February 2019. By February 2020, I hacked my way up to book 7, Crown of Swords, and then I gave up. I'll describe some plot points, my impression of the series, and why I gave up.
The plot is gargantuan, so instead of describing it in detail and mixing in my thoughts, I'll just reveal enough of it to discuss some issues with the series, which about covers the plot of the first two books. I didn't write any of it down while I was reading, but there's an expansive Wheel of Time wiki to fill in the blanks, which already reveals the first problem: you cannot read these books without an external source of info. I fact-checked only a few things on the wiki because I can't be bothered to waste any more of my time on this series than I already have. I am beyond tired of it.
Wheel of Time consists of 14 books written across two decades. The original author, Robert Jordan, was a prolific writer, producing some 25–30,000 words a month for the first six books. This tapered off to 7–10,000 until book 11. You can clearly see Robert Jordan's health failing based on his output, and he indeed died while writing book 11, with that one and the other three finished by Brandon Sanderson, his loyal fan.
The tidbits that couldn't fit into any of the books were compiled by Robert Jordan's editors into a WoT Companion Glossary spanning 300,000 words. The glossary was released in 2015; reading WoT without it is straight up literary masochism, which is how I read it, and that already answers why I gave up. Still, I don't think that conveys the entirety of the problems I encountered, so let's check out the series from the start.
At the start of the series, we get introduced to an epic hero of the old, who is amid a cataclysm. A demon appears in front of the hero and congratulates him on going insane and wreaking so much havoc. The hero goes even more insane and levels everything.
We flash forward to the time when Rand al'Thor is just a boy. He enjoys a rural life with his dad in their secluded, unguarded farm where they're far away from any help and nobody can hear them fight. Rand spots a strange hooded man observing them from the forest, but he thinks nothing of it and rushes with his dad to the village, where there is a harvest feast being prepared.
In the village, we meet Rand's two boy friends and three girl friends. They engage in typical kid stuff, such as doing pranks and teasing each other while Rand's dad hurries back home for some inexplicable reason. Rand's farm and the village are attacked, Rand's dad is killed, and Rand and his friends are rescued by a sorceress and her bodyguard, Lan, and their journey begins. Rand is apparently the most recent reincarnation of the ancient hero Lewis Therin, and all his previous reincarnations have gone mad, so Rand must be controlled or stopped or?
By the end of book two, we're introduced to magical items, color-coded sorceress clans, men's and women's magic, the demon's officers called "the Forsaken," a subspace-like traveling method that uses some ancient stone gates, an Asian-like warrior nation that invades Rand's continent to enslave and shackle sorceresses, and much more. The gist of it all is that only women can safely use magic because the men's half of the magic source is tainted by the same demon that drove Lews Therin insane. Rand will likely go insane too if he tries to use magic, or will he?
The first two books proceed at a quick pace. There is never a dull moment, and they have plenty of drama and action, but the characters seem a bit off. It won't become apparent until much later on that all our main characters, good and bad, are just puppets in the cosmic theater and they have no say in the plot.
What becomes apparent in retrospect is the underlying theme of women abusing men. It starts out as the girls being mean and cruel to the boys, and at first I thought it's just the kids' cruelty, but no, women treat their husbands the same, and they also treat every man in the vicinity the same way, and this feeling of misandry is persistent in the series: if you're a man in this world, you're a danger, and if you know magic, you have to be "cut off" from it through a process that basically lobotomizes and kills you. There are even some hints of BDSM and femdom, especially with the Black clan, which is apparently colluding with the demon, and nobody seems to see this or care about it. The entire concept of sorceresses bonding with their men bodyguards that will gladly die to protect their fair lady, after which she can just bond with another one, is obviously a metaphor for a polyandrous marriage in which the woman is in charge.
The sorceress clans alone contain enough lore and characters to fill out 10 Harry Potter-like series of books, but I shan't recall any of it even at gunpoint. I believe there's 12 clans, each coded with a specific color and each with a different twist on how to use or not use magic, and consequently, how to demean and henpeck men 24/7. They are constantly scheming against each other too, and just keeping track of which woman said what to whom is a logistical nightmare, and again, you better have an external source of info to keep up to date with the gossip or you'll be completely lost. There are entire chapters and subplots that wouldn't be out of place in an episode of "Desperate Housewives," and they're so mind-numbingly boring that I must have willingly caused myself amnesia just to forget them.
The magical items count in the hundreds and are generally treated as disposable plot devices, like one would treat a dish rag. In book one, Rand recovers a magical banner that summons ancient heroes and uses it in book two, and apparently it isn't used again until book 14. I believe it's in book two that his friend, Matt, picks up a cursed dagger and falls under its draining curse, and once the curse is cleared, the dagger is put in some box and stuffed in some warehouse and apparently disappears from the series forever.
I presume the situation gets better in book 11 and after, since Brandon Sanderson prides himself on having predictable, reliable magical systems, and he even posted some lectures on YouTube on how to create a believable magic system in a fantasy world. Seeing how he's a fan of WoT, I'd say it's logical that he grew up with WoT and that he too noticed the same problem of disposable magical items that I have and figured out a way to at least keep it under control. I haven't read his take on WoT's magic, but whatever it is, it's surely better than Jordan's.
Rand later discovers that sorceress clans have entire warehouses of magical items, most of which have an unknown purpose and hail from a bygone era, where they were seemingly produced en masse. Archways that open portals, a medallion that provides an anti-magic aura, magical swords, and anything else you can think of. There is even a massive magical statue a la Planet of the Apes that requires both a man and a woman to operate. Some of them do make recurring appearances, but I'd say that everything is disposable in the series, except Rand and his five friends, around whom the Wheel of Time turns.
The core premise of the series is that everyone in their world is compelled to act out ancient history, hence "Wheel of Time," with the current version of it called "the Pattern." In short, Rand, his friends, and the demon can overcome any odds or do anything because "the Pattern wills it," or some similar handwavy excuse. Once you see it, you can't unsee it, and the entire plot unravels. Look at how Robert Jordan justifies Thom, a traveling bard character with colorful clothing and eccentric personality, tagging along with the crew as they're trying to escape the village and travel undetected:
As the long-limbed gleeman scrambled down the ladder from the loft, Lan spoke, stiffly formal. “Is this part of the Pattern, too, Moiraine Sedai?” “Everything is a part of the Pattern, my old friend,” Moiraine replied softly. “We cannot pick and choose. But we shall see.” (Book 1, chapter 10, "Leavetaking")
It's total lunacy that anyone would accept a tagalong when the fate of the world hangs in the balance, but hey, the Pattern wills it. In retrospect, I should have dropped the entire series after seeing "the Pattern" mentioned for the first time. How can I admire Rand or his friends or enjoy any of their successes if everything ultimately happens because of the Pattern? They don't get to choose, they don't get to make their own plans, and they don't get to learn and grow; everything they do and are is because of the Wheel and the Pattern. Rand is the first one to realize this and that he has to become the best possible version of Lews to break the Pattern and defeat the demon and the Forsaken, but his friends awaken to this as well, and they too start undergoing a transformation.
I believe Perrin, the blacksmith boy friend of Rand's, even starts telepathically talking to wolves and his eyes turn yellow. Why? Well, his ancient hero equivalent did it and looked like that. You can see it coming from a mile away, and there are no twists or surprises about it, except what comes through the appearance of new characters that are woven into the story because "the Pattern wills it" and new disposable magical items, and now you have to trudge through the next 2,000 pages to see the character transform, and if you skip a page or two or take a break, you'll be completely lost. At the start of one book, perhaps it was book 7, Matt started transforming as well, and he spontaneously started speaking the forgotten language of his ancient equivalent, and that's when I was finally ready to give up.
The most egregious use of the Pattern handwave comes later on, when Rand fights the Forsaken. It turns out that the demon can infinitely resurrect the Forsaken, at apparently no cost or effort, and they come back with all their memories and skills. This completely destroys any sense of tension or progress — you know Rand is an epic hero who will defeat a Forsaken when he meets one, but you also know the Forsaken will come back. Even if he figures out a trick they haven't seen and manages to outsmart and kill one, it's only a temporary setback that will only work once. I clearly recall their resurrection being described in the books or the wiki as "the Forsaken being once again spun into the Pattern."
There is a way to kill the Forsaken for good, but it is a forbidden magic technique that threatens to unravel the Pattern itself called "balefire." So, naturally, this wondrous magic will only get used once or twice and forgotten completely. I recall that one time it was used after dispatching some immortal magical creature that hunts sorceresses and is immune to their spells. And on and on it goes: new characters pose new threats that are solved with new magic items that slowly bring about the transformation of our main characters into their epic versions for the one final showdown with the demon. If you find this kind of storytelling enjoyable, knock yourself out, but I was beyond done by the time I got to book 7.