50 Book Pledge #11: George R.R. Martin — A Storm of Swords

My favorite aspect of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series, judging from its first three installments, is its respect for consequences. A Clash of Kings compounded an instantly complex series by charting the outcomes of A Game of Thrones' actions as they rippled out across Westeros and realms beyond. Fortunes rose and fell, and new players emerged to capitalize upon the deaths and victories, while others were instantly doomed by same. A Storm of Swords packs more into its hefty length than both its predecessors combined, but it maintains the series' sense of unstoppable inertia, of each action provoking reactions that have the effect of making horrible situations even more ghastly. I would say it also means that the uplifting moments spread out too, but nothing good seems to happen in Westeros these days.

50 Book Pledge #8: George R.R. Martin — A Clash of Kings

A Game of Thrones ends with enough cliffhangers that the other six entries in this still-unfinished saga could each be merely a continuation of one of the key threads introduced in the first book. But A Clash of Kings quickly makes clear that Martin is only getting started. The first half of the 730-page novel simultaneously expands and shrinks the scope of the narrative, venturing into uncharted realms of a region so thoroughly mapped in the first book that I presumed we'd already charted everything. Yet Martin also pulls back from the action to reconfigure narrative foci, introducing new POV characters and honing established ones with new character insights and growths.

Some characters who experienced so much upheaval in the first book find themselves somewhat stagnated, their dreams and desires muted by hard reality. Three of my favorite characters thus far—Arya, Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen—all experience huge setbacks and perils that force them all to mature even faster than they already have. Meanwhile, the best character of the series, Tyrion Lannister, undergoes bold changes that make him even more endearing and likable even as he fights for the good of his loathsome family. The dynamic between him and his sister, Cersei, now chafing as Queen Regent of a dangerously belligerent son and further stressed over her twin's captivity, is magnificent. The two plot against each other incessantly, and the series of miniature victories each enjoys over the other is as compelling in its own way as the civil war ripping apart Westeros.

Amazingly, A Clash of Kings ends on an even more ambiguous note than A Game of Thrones, with utter chaos sweeping the land and every POV character placed in precarious positions, and all of them displaced from their homes. It's at the point where one wonders what glory any of the contesting kings would take in ruling the Seven Kingdoms, as whomever triumphs stands only to inherit a scorched earth and maimed smallfolk. If A Game of Thrones was unsentimental, A Clash of Kings is almost mercilessly bleak. But that only makes it more gripping to see these people still carrying on, even if in folly.

50 Book Pledge #7: George R.R. Martin — A Game of Thrones

I'd never heard of Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series before the HBO show was announced, news that didn't make me rush out to read it any faster. I love The Lord of the Rings, but I've never been one for the fantasy genre. I find too much sunniness in it, too much wide-eyed, Arthurian belief in the nobility of the Middle Ages. Good and evil are defined in stark terms, and codes of honor replace thick webs of politics. What a load.

All the more unfortunate, then, that I should have ignored Martin's series for so long. A Game of Thrones is so perfectly catered to what I like and dislike about fantasy that it almost seems made for me. Modeled more after historical fiction than anything, A Game of Thrones is so viciously unsentimental in its travelogue of scheming, intrigue, brutality and rape that it almost comes as a shock when the occasional flash of magic enters the picture. Yet Martin also avoids easy cynicism; his characters are flawed, some to the point of nearly pure evil, yet he contextualizes everyone so well that even the Lannisters have their moments of charm, and not just the sly dwarf Tyrion. There's a clear desire on Martin's part for the chivalry and nobility he casts out of the genre; it's simply that he cannot place it within this world and make it fit. And that is why the only character who truly lives up to the morally absolute, honor-bound standards of typical fantasy cannot even make it all the way through this book, the first of seven, without dying. It's a testament to Martin's skill that he satiated my thirst for more grim, realistic fantastical fiction even as he, for the first time ever, made me truly long for the simplistic goodness of a highborn warrior lord to triumph.

I also love that Martin understands that climaxes need not come in the last five pages and that falling action can be as powerful as saving all the good stuff for the end. This structure makes for a series of shocking twists rather than merely one, and it also helps Martin slowly push the scope of the narrative outward, never settling on any one character or story arc, not even that of poor Eddard Stark. By the end of A Game of Thrones, I couldn't wait to continue on in the series because it so effectively hinted at bigger stories (and not merely bigger action, which is over all too quickly). Highly recommended.