Review of "A Game of Thrones" by George R.R. Martin

Goodkind, Feist, Eddings, Salvatore, Brooks, Williams, Donaldson, Jordan, etc., etc., the list of post-Tolkien imitat—err, I mean, writers—goes on and on.  All are largely dependent on, and therefore derivative of, J.R.R.’s version of epic fantasy.  Elves, broken swords, trollocs—sorry, trolls—evil lords, quests for numinous objects, ancient prophecies, farm boys turned kings, dragons, and ideas on and on fill these writers’ stories, original material a paucity.  In 1996 another R.R., George R.R., came along and smashed this mold.  Tolkien-esque only in scope, A Game of Thrones is epic fantasy for a new generation.

Iconoclast, A Game of Throne’s firm footing in realism is the biggest difference separating Martin from other writers in the genre.  His cast of characters real-to-life not larger-than, the story’s source material is War of the Roses instead of Norse myth.  Eddard Stark, one of the main protagonists, has many a blemish on his record, among them a bastard son.  But even more realistic are his and the other characters’ motives.  Caught in larger circumstances, the Stark family, as well as Lannister, Barratheon, and Martell families, find themselves reacting to rather than shaping events.  Despite holding positions of power, their choices are most often less than optimum, no outcome guaranteed.  Such is life in our world, as in Martin’s.

A Game of Thrones is primarily the story of the Stark family and its attempts to retain their legacy and unity as events in Westeros, the fantasy setting of the book, begin spinning out of control.  The king, Robert Barratheon, a drunk, licentious man, cares not to become involved in the decay of the political and social structure of his kingdom and asks Eddard to become the King’s Hand, his second in command.  Eddard, though reluctantly accepting the offer, sets about righting the ills of the kingdom according to a sense of propriety instilled in him by his forefathers.  He tackles the economic, political, and religious issues with verve, trying to balance affairs with the deviant council he chairs in the king’s stead.  But with myriad families and cabals, lords and bastard sons planning and plotting their piece of the monarchial pie, Eddard’s hope of righting the sinking kingdom quickly fades and survival becomes the name of the game—you know which.

But the story does not focus solely on Eddard.  The appendices containing an extensive list of dramatis personae, the King’s Hand only marginally occupies the main character role.  Each chapter devoted to a specific viewpoint, several of Eddard’s children, as well as members of a rival family, the Lannisters, flesh out the cast.  In fact, characterization is the main strength of the novel.  Though they number many, Martin is able to give each viewpoint a voice of their own.  Though at times extreme in a sensational fashion, it’s always an affective voice.  Contextually, readers will truly hate some while fall head over heels in love with others.  Prince Joffrey is one for the gallows while Arya’s tomboy antics will have readers holding their breath over her every move. 

If this amount of plot is not enough, there is a secondary storyline occurring on another continent to rival the interest of events on Westeros.  Extracted and compiled into a novella, the story of the exiled queen, Daenerys Targaryen, and her plight to retake the throne from the Seven Kingdoms was so good as to win a Hugo.  Arranged to be married to Dothraki warlord (think Genghis Khan), the events of Daenerys’ life take one unpredictable turn after another as she and her brother attempt to rebuild a base of power for a return to retake their beloved Westeros.  However, like events in the lives of Eddard, his and the other families, things do not always pan out as intended for Daenerys.

The setting of Westeros, when viewed objectively, is not particularly unique save the Wall.  The shape even similar, it could be Robin Hood’s England.   Where Martin makes the world his own is by developing the history of the people populating it.  Underpinning the novel and giving it depth, events which brought things to their current state of affairs are related to the reader in full detail.  The Battle of the Trident, only a few decades past, divides the factions currently vying for the throne.  Discussed on many occasions, each viewpoint has its own take on how events transpired that day.  Who was on who’s side, who killed who and how, are not forgotten, the accounts not always in agreement.  This story within a story—its own mythos—continually evolves as events in the present unravel and brings readers into closer contact with the characters—a brilliant play by Martin.

In the end, A Game of Thrones is epic fantasy in the mode of realism rather than myth.  Events of the supernatural do occur, but they are few and far between.  (Martin has been quoted as saying he prefers to sprinkle his fantasy like salt and pepper rather than pour it on the reader.)  On the whole, it is the story of people—high to low—fighting to survive as radical change sweeps a land.  Medieval in feel, kings, queens, knights, jousts, castles, and swords are the medium, but peasants, farmer's boys (not the typical fantasy farmer's boy), and the generally lesser known players all have a stake.  Rich details and characterization, though occasionally operatic in simplicity, flesh out the medium into a vivid story worthy of the term “epic”.  Though many of the plot devices have been tried-true in mainstream literature, there are few readers who pick up the novel and remain unaffected.  Regardless of the final success of A Song of Ice and Fire (there are still two or three books to be written in the series), A Game of Thrones will be regarded as the standout of post-Tolkien fantasy, as without it, writers like Abercrombie, Morgan, Ruckley, and Lynch simply wouldn’t exist.

(An afterword on the television series: HBO’s adaptation of A Game of Thrones is less than average. Some of the acting is quality, including Sean Bean, Peter Dinklage, Lena Headey, and Mark Addy who occupy their roles with subtlety. However, most of the actors are either cutting their teeth in the film industry or are simply bad.  The sets and props are among the best a tv series can offer, but no matter how well you dress a turkey, it’s still a turkey.  Watching the show it’s obvious the producers believe that sensationalism sells.  Nearly every episode from the book has been altered to feature nudity, swearing, erotic scenes, and moments of the operatic—tears and tension—that embarrass the intelligent viewer.  (Renly, for example, has been made homosexual to garner alternate viewership.)  Far from prudish, I complain only that the most blunt tools possible are being used to get viewers: sex and melodrama.  Do yourself a favor and read the book instead.  At least the operatic elements are diluted by the mythos of Westeros the characters are embedded within.)

Review of "A Clash of Kings" by George R.R. Martin

(Warning: do not read this review unless you want parts of A Game of Thrones spoiled.)

Picking up slightly after the final events of A Game ofThrones, George R.R. Martin’s second novel in the Song of Ice and Fires series, A Clash of Kings (1998), continues to build story, pushing matters across Westeros and beyond toward a larger climax.  Events in the east, at the Wall, and especially in the heartland of Westeros are all taken to the next level.  Suffering no sequel blues, readers who loved the former will feast on the latter as the reads like a pure extension of A Game of Thrones.

The title apt, A Clash of Kings is referred to internally in the novel as the War of Five Kings.   Houses Stark, Lannister, Greyjoy, and Barratheon (both Stannis and Renly) are vying for the throne of swords at King’s Landing.  New characters introduced and viewpoints added, the majority of the plots encompass this larger group at war.  Favorites and hated each being put through the wringer by Martin, once again nobody’s fate is certain, yet all shifts and moves organically.

Review of "A Storm of Swords" by George R.R. Martin

(Warning: this review discusses events which occur previously in A Song of Ice and Fire but will not spoil matters for A Storm of Swords.)

Like a master composer, George R.R. Martin, in his third installment of A Song of Ice and Fire, works with a theme he established in fresh fashion.  Readers who the enjoyed the first two books in the series will be bowled over reading A Storm of Swords (2001).  He has somehow managed to maintain the high quality without repetition or self-parody.  Having established the world and its characters, Martin takes story to the next, organic step in its progression, leaving Westeros in a more unpredictable yet strangely settled situation.  

As the smoke clears from the major battles of A Clash of Kings, subterfuge and backstabbing take center stage in A Storm of Swords.  Things get personal and petty, and not everyone survives.  And yet, all of the plot twists and major events still feel natural.  Unlike many other books which try to architect dramatic circumstances only for unrealistic coincidences to occur, little seems as forced in A Storm of Swords.  The stage set two books prior, events leading to this point have unraveled like a ball of yarn, the surprise stage exits feeling natural.   

Review of "A Feast for Crows" by George R.R. Martin

George R.R. Martin has stated in numerous interviews, like a granddad to children, that in writing stories he likens himself to a gardener rather than architect.  Letting stories grow as nature would have it, sticking to detailed plans is not his forte.  A more dynamic process than adhering to a blueprint, the first three novels of A Song if Ice and Fire bore all of the fruit of this mindset.  In A Feast for Crows, fourth book in the Song of Ice and Fire series, the foliage proves verdant.  But too heavy?

A Game of Thrones caught up with a kingdom which had not quite put behind it a major change in power; A Clash of Kings set the new powers at one another's throats in massive clashes; and A Storm of Swords picked up the multitude of aftershocks in the aftermath of the battles.  The latest installment, A Feast of Crows, sees the kingdom trying to pick itself up from the ground.  

Review of "A Dance with Dragons" by George R.R. Martin

This review assumes you've read the prior four novels in the Song of Ice and Fire series.

As the time between builds with the publishing of each Song of Ice and Fire novel, so too does expectation.  Six years between the publishing of A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons (2011) means a lot of expectations.  Was the wait worth it?  Let's see.

The short answer (and a cheating answer, beware) is: yes and no.  A Dance with Dragons has all of the flavor, dialogue, plot twists, and overall savory story that readers have come to expect of the series.  If you wanted more Song of Ice and Fire, you have it in spades.

The majority of A Dance with Dragons takes place on the Eastern continent.  Danaerys and Tyrion, after a novel's break in A Feast for Crows, return to the page, and a huge chunk of Dance follows the two--Tyrion as he attempts to remain in hiding after committing fraticide and Dany as she tries to come to terms with ruling a new kingdom while still wanting to retake the iron throne in the name of the Targaryen legacy.  But there are likewise a handful of other characters, some known and some yet unknown who finds themselves the subject of chapter points of view.  In Westeros, things in Dorne continue edge closer to conflict with the Lannisters and Tyrells, while in the North war is brewing around Winterfell.  And lastly the series returns to Jon, who like Dany and Tyrion has a large share of the chapters in Dance.  Now Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon tries his best to fill Mormont's boots while dealing with a number of problems--the wildlings, Stannis Baratheon and his red witch, and the wights not the least among them.  

While the wheel of chapter points of view in Dance spins more erratically than the first three Ice and Fire novels, it still spins.  Gears within gears as each character and house attempts to adapt to the situations constantly in flux proves just as enjoyable, leaving readers to want The Winds of Winter immediately in their hands.  (Twelve years and counting...)

The short answer "no" is based on other qualities.  While each of the first three novels in the series ended with action in Westeros ongoing, the books found convenient pauses for their final pages.  The calm before the storm brought about by Eddard's death.  The end of the battle for King's Landing.  The death of several major characters in A Storm of Swords.  All of those moments were nicely planned to provide readers a breath before jumping into the next book.  By ending some of its storylines at cliffhangers rather than convenient pauses, it would seem A Feast for Crows changed Martin's approach to delineating the volumes in his series.  A Dance with Dragons, while giving a landing spot to some of the cliffhangers in Feast, likewise ends on several cliffhangers.  

There is a devil's advocate, and this is what he says: "Feast and Dance are bridge books, and bridge books bridge the opening volumes to the closing volumes."  There is some truth in this, I admit, but I can't help but feel the series' size is starting to slip. Bursting at the seams with story, one has to wonder if the overarching story isn't suffering for the perceived need to fit everything into as few of volumes as possible.  The way things are going, the series will require three further volumes, not two.  Martin is 74 years old now, let's hope he writes faster....

If you’ve read A Song of Ice and Fire this far, the six year wait for new Westeros material will undoubtedly be satisfying in its own right.  It’s good to hear from Jon, Dany, Tyrion, Bran, Arya, Cersei, Jaime, Davos, and others again - and some of these arcs continue to sparkle, Bran and Theon’s in particular.  But when you’ve finished reading A Dance with Dragons, don’t expect to be met with any sense of satisfaction that the series has been taken to the next stage.  There are so many loose ends hanging out there now that a frayed rope is the better metaphor.  Write, George write!!