A Storm of Swords: Wow, Ya’ll!

My “Summer of George R.R. Martin” is in full swing, and I have been spending my time avoiding the sweltering heat wave with A Storm of Swords, the third book in the Song of Ice and Fire series.

Without a doubt, Storm is the best of the books to date (although if reviews are to be believed, A Dance with Dragons is supposed to be even better). It’s all the best elements of the previous books rolled up in a tight, amazing package. Like in Game of Thrones, Martin proves once again that he’s not afraid to murder beloved characters, including major narrators. And from Clash of Kings, we get some incredibly suspenseful battle scenes between the kings contesting for the throne, including one of the most elaborately planned, vengeful and bloody sneak attacks of the series.

Danerys, Tyrion and Jon Snow continue to be the most interesting, elaborate and well-developed characters, but Arya Stark experiences the most intense journey in Storm (literally and figuratively). Arya’s been on the road since her father’s murder in Game of Thrones. Since then, she’s been enslaved, held for ransom by two different bands of outlaws and murdered five adult men directly and two by proxy with a “hired” assassin (all of whom had it coming, by the way). Arya’s completely lost in Westeros, operating all on her own– she’s had to blend in with so many groups and hide her identity from so many people that she bears no resemblance to the noble Starks any more. With multiple aliases she’s adopted along the way, she’s become a savage lowborn outlaw herself, with no name, no home, no money and no family to call her own.

Storm also brings us new central narrators, including Jaime Lannister. By far the most interesting new voice to add to the tale of Westeros, Jaime is a shining example of the complexity of character development in the series. In one book, Jaime goes from an uber villain who pushed Bran Stark out of a window and savagely battled Robb in the Riverlands, to a…well, a sympathetic sort of guy. Things go quite poorly for Jaime in Storm, giving him some humility and tempering his personality so that he is able to care about people other than himself and his sister, Cercei.

By exposing readers to Jaime’s point of view, we learn of his 16-years of guilt over breaking his oath to protect the Mad King, and the mitigating circumstances for Jaime’s killings, which no one ever bothered to learn in their zeal to paint him as a self-serving murder machine. But, in the end, poor Jaime is really just a pawn. His father has tyrannical control over almost all his “official” actions of duty, while Cersei controls the rest by using his love of her as a weapon of cruelty.

Which brings me to the remaining Lannisters: Tyrion and Lord Tywin. Like Jaime, Storm puts Tyrion to the test. He was horribly disfigured in the Blackwater battle at the end of Clash, and now that his father Tywin is back in town, he’s been relegated back to steerage class. There’s no recognition for all he did as the King’s Hand, and instead, Tyrion suffers constant insults and debasements. Why? Because his father, Tywin, is one of the most evil sons of bitches in fiction. Why is Joffrey an insolent, toxic and cruel little boy? Tywin. Why is Jaime so twisted, guilty and emotionally crippled? Tywin. Why is Cercei such a malicious viper? Tywin. Why has Tyrion been tortured and japed at his whole life? Tywin. In the pantheon of bad dads and downright awful people (Darth Vadar, Ryan O’Neill, Jack Torrence, John Phillips, the Great Santini) Tywin tops them all. But fret not, dear readers, because Tywin gets his comeuppance in one of the most emotionally satisfying chapters of the series.

While Game of Thrones was all about power, and Clash was all about protecting turf, Storm of Swords really focuses in on villainy. Villains aren’t born in Westeros, they’re cultivated, either by family or circumstances. And sometimes, whether the actions are vile or not just depends on your perspective – and on who’s telling the tale.

More From the Summer of George R.R. Martin: A Dance With Dragons Sets the Publishing World Afire!

You heard it here first, dear readers. As I predicted a few months ago on this blog, George R.R. Martin is the new toast of the literati. Largely due to the success of the HBO series A Game of Thrones, Martin's 5th book in the Song of Ice and Fire series, A Dance With Dragons, has become the most anticipated book release since Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Want proof? Just check out this story about brisk book sales of all the Ice and Fire books in the New York Times. Or this write up, complete with a customized cartoon in The New Yorker. Or this assessment in the Onion's AV Club. In fact, The Onion seems to heart GRRM so desperately that three... that's right, count 'em, THREE...of this week's lead stories are about the fantasy sensation sweeping the nation. In addition to covering the brisk book sales, they've also covered Martin's blog, and written about how to geek out with his collected works. And you know things have gotten out of hand when the book launch makes it into Time, which dubbed Ice and Fire "the great fantasty epic of our era." CAUTION: If you click on the Time link, be sure you've read A Feast for Crows. I started reading the article and had to stop after I read a HUGE spoiler. I'm still kind of angry about it, to be honest, as I'm still working through A Storm of Swords.

And it's not just book sellers loving Martin right now. HBO owes him a big debt, too, as Game of Thrones walked away from the Emmy nominations with a slew of nods, including best dramatic series.

So, if you're one of the unfortunates that hasn't gotten the memo, this is the new hotness, America. Get your Ice and Fire copies now, because at more than 1,000 pages per book, it's going to take a while to catch up.

The Summer of George R.R. Martin

After Game of Thrones, I quickly started tearing through A Clash of Kings, the second of the George R.R. Martin series.

When we last left Westeros, Dany had hatched some dragons, King Joffrey held the Iron Throne and everyone else was at war to take it from him. Clash of Kings picks up from there, with five different factions fighting for control of the realm: The Starks of Winterfell; the former King Robert’s two brothers, Renly and Stannis; King Joffrey and the Lannisters; and Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands. Oh, and Dany is planning to come back to Westeros with her dragons to reclaim the throne her father lost.

The biggest bombshells happening in this installment concern Stannis, who’s hooked up with a bizarre cult priestess and gotten religion. Problem is that the priestess’s god is a malevolent one, who’s given her the power to give birth to creepy shadow demons that can go out and kill people. And she kills three during the course of her travels, including Stannis’s own brother, Renly. Meanwhile, Theon Greyjoy, who’s been a foster child of the Starks since the age of 10 and a trusted friend to all of them, turns traitor, joins in his father’s bid for the realm and ultimately invades Winterfell.

Most of Clash of Kings is set up – everyone’s preparing for the ultimate throw down, recruiting alliances and getting armies in place. So, the bulk of the book wasn’t as exciting as Game of Thrones. But that all changes once the fighting starts, and the last 300 pages are a real roller coaster.

Not only does Theon take over Winterfell, but everyone’s under the impression that he’s killed Bran and Rickon. I say under the impression because the youngest Starks actually do get away and are hiding in the family crypt. But Theon can’t look like he’s been outsmarted by two kids aged 9 and 4, so he finds some villagers, kills them and covers them in tar and pretends they are the Stark children.

Later, after a shadow demon kills Renly, Stannis takes over his army, calls his fleet from Dragonstone, and launches a major invasion on King’s Landing to unseat Joffrey. And what a battle that turns out to be! Akin to the Helm’s Deep fight in the Two Towers, this is a fight of epic proportions.

Tyrion the dwarf and uncle to Joffrey has developed some interesting ways to protect a city with nominal armed forces, including raising a harbor chain across the bay to trap Stannis’ fleet, which they then destroy with wildfire, sort of a cross between Napalm and Jagermeister. The fire spooks The Hound, Joffrey’s vicious bodyguard, who takes off without a trace in the middle of the fighting. Tyrion has to take over The Hound’s command, and gets himself slashed and nearly killed in the fighting – not by Stannis’s men, but by one of his own. And finally, when the battle starts going poorly for Tyrion, his father shows up with a massive army to rout Stannis.

Similar to Game of Thrones, we’re left with a lot of questions by the end. Who ordered the hit on Tyrion? What’s going to happen to Stannis now that he’s been soundly beaten? How will the Starks retake Winterfell and get the Greyjoys back in line? Where’s The Hound and what will he do next? How freaking long is it going to take before Dany gets to Westeros?

Hopefully, we’ll get those answers soon, as I’m already 200 pages into A Storm of Swords. It truly is the summer of George R.R. Martin!

Room – The Collector meets The Road

I hate when I finish a book in the middle of a long trip. But this time, it was rather fortuitous, because at the BWI Hudson News, I spied a copy of Room, which was on my “to read” list based on the write up in the New York Times.

And it did not disappoint.

Room is the story of an intense mother/son bond in one of the most horrific situations imaginable. The residents of the 11 X 11 room are Ma and a small boy named Jack, the book’s five-year old narrator. Ma has been living in the room for seven years, held prisoner as a sex slave by a sadistic monster known to Jack as “Old Nick.” Jack is the terrible byproduct of that imprisonment.

But somehow, mother and son have managed to make a living hell palatable. Even though he’s trapped and can never go outside, Jack’s days are highly structured, with times set aside for exercise, play, reading and crafts. And the two have actually created a unique world with just the basics in their environment. Jack grows attached to things like all children do, but his things aren’t Transformers or GI Joe action figures, they’re more basic items like a remote control, a snake made out of strung together egg shells and the living room rug.

As Jack reaches his fifth birthday, Ma decides that long-term, the room is not going to be a suitable environment for a growing child, and she hatches a plan for escape. This for me was the most intense part of the book, because the plan involves Jack getting rolled up in the rug and playing dead so that Old Nick will take the “corpse” outside for burial. The entire plan hinges on Jack being able to free himself, jump from a moving car and getting help to free his mother. And this is tough because Jack has never been outside and doesn’t know the environment, has never spoken to a single soul other than his mother and is very young and completely terrified.

Miraculously, he succeeds.

Now the challenge is adapting to life in the real world, outside of the room. Jack’s never been in the sun, doesn’t know what grass is, has never been to a shopping mall, doesn’t understand the concept of family and has no idea how to relate to people other than his mother. Meanwhile, Ma is traumatized and clinically depressed after her ordeal, and the family has trouble even accepting Jack considering who his father is.

Much like The Road, Room is a story about the strength of the parent/child bond, which grows stronger and more intense given the magnitude of their circumstances. In fact, in Room, there are points when the bond becomes inappropriate, as evidenced by Jack’s continued breast feeding. But that was basically their only luxury in the room – one another and their ability to express affection.

Game of Thrones – It’s Not Just on HBO

So, I don’t have HBO. But, my husband’s been raving about Game of Thrones for years, and I knew the series would generate a lot of hype, so I decided to check out the book for myself.

Game of Thrones isn’t just a single 800 page tome. It’s one of four, soon to be five, fantasy novels by George R.R. Martin. And from what I can tell based on clips and recaps of the show that I’ve seen, the TV series is limited to the first book of the same name, and has stuck faithfully to the plot – no surprise since the author was an advisor.

If you haven’t read the book, I will give a caveat. The first 80 pages or so are ponderous. Martin goes right into the tale from the perspective of the Stark family, a wealthy lordship that controls the area of Winterfell in the north of a fictional country named Westeros. It takes a while to get interested in them, because the Starks, as the name would suggest, are rather austere and, frankly, pretty boring. Mostly, you just get introduced to the father, Ned; the mother, Catelyn; and their children Robb, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Rickon and the illegitimate son, Jon. About the only interesting thing that happens in the opening of the book is that the children find a dead wolf and a litter of orphaned wolflings - one wolf for every child. So, there’s some heavy handed symbolism going on with the wolves. Which also happens to be the family crest of the Stark family.

Shortly after the wolves are adopted, we learn King Robert of Westeros is coming to Winterfell – his chief advisor, known as his Hand, has been killed and Robert is coming to offer the job to Ned.

Snooze, right? Symbolic wolves and a job offer? But soldier through those 80 pages, dear readers, because as soon as King Robert arrives in Winterfell, we learn in pretty short order that his wife, Queen Cersei, had a role in killing the previous Hand. Later, Bran Stark catches Queen Cersei getting it on with her brother (yes, that’s right, brother!), so the two push the child off a castle tower, crippling him, but failing to kill him. This leads to a separate attack on Bran by an assassin hell bent on cutting his throat, which is barely thwarted by his mother and his wolf.

So, with incest, child murder, conspiracies and intrigue, you get amazingly hooked on the story. In fact, it’s like crack cocaine from that point forward, with a different bombshell going off in every chapter. Who ordered the second attempt on Bran’s life? Is someone trying to kill King Robert? Are the King’s heirs really his? Who should succeed the throne once Robert is finally taken out? How can Queen Cersei get Ned out of the way so that her bratty son Joffrey can assume power unquestioned?

These are all incredibly compelling story lines that converge in interesting ways, keeping readers turning the pages voraciously. But these plot points take a back seat to the stories of two of the most interesting characters in fantasy fiction, a dwarf named Tyrion Lannister and Danerys Targaryen.

Tyrion is the unloved brother of Cersei, who shuns him due to his physical deformities. But Tyrion has managed to survive his family’s scorn and plenty of others in Westeros who would take advantage of his physical weaknesses, generally by outsmarting them. He’s accused of ordering the hit on Bran (although we never learn that’s the truth, as the information comes from an unreliable source), which prompts Catelyn Stark to kidnap him and put him on trial – a trial by combat that he miraculously wins (albeit by proxy). On his way home, Tyrion is ambushed by barbarians, whom he convinces not only to save him, but to join him in battle against the Starks under his own command. The interesting thing about Tyrion is that nothing is a given with him. He’s incredibly complicated, and at different turns is as likely to turn against his family as he is to fight for them. Tyrion understands that when you play the Game of Thrones, it’s best to look out for yourself, and worry about other people and settling scores later. And this goes double if you’re a dwarf.

Danerys Targaryen is one of the two surviving heirs of the previous kingship, which was overthrown by King Robert. Danerys left Westeros as a baby, and has since been living in exile with her sadistic brother Viserys, who sells her to a Mongol-type King named Kahl Drogo. But rather than bemoan her fate, Danerys embraces it, learning to love Drogo as well as the power that comes along with being a barbarian Queen – and does it without losing her humanity. She identifies with and helps save women from abuse, she is kind to her servants and ensures they are treated fairly and she abides by new cultural customs out of respect for her new found people, something her brother never got the hang of. Danerys goes from being a child in the beginning of the book to a fully forged woman Queen who inspires loyalty and earns her place as someone worthy of a proper throne – perhaps even the throne of Westeros.

Although you sound like a Dungeons and Dragons nerd or a LARPer if you speak about Game of Thrones in public, there really is something to these books. Frankly, I find Tolkein incredibly dull and could never get into Lord of the Rings, but Game of Thrones is truly addictive. In part, I think it’s because the themes that make the novels interesting aren’t really driven by fantasy. At the end of the day, the book is about power – who has it, how you conspire to get it, how you retain it – which in my mind makes it much closer to Shakespeare than Baggins.

The Caine Mutiny, or Who Moved My Strawberries?

All avid readers are also second-hand bookstore junkies. It’s the best way to support the habit of continually tearing through books. I regularly visit a few, stock up on months’ worth of reading material and gradually slog my way through each one. Up this month? My 50 cent copy of The Caine Mutiny.

Although I have seen the film version of Caine many times, this is my first reading of the novel. And it’s better. For one thing, you can imagine Keefer as a royal jackass when you’re not seeing Fred MacMurray of My Three Sons. Even though MacMurray appears in the film in full naval uniform, it’s hard to get past the benign, suburban cardigan image, which totally ruins the effect. And Captain Queeg is no Bogart wearing tuxes, running Rick’s Café and undermining Nazis. He’s a simpering, paranoid hot mess.

I won’t belabor the plot, because so many people know it. Queeg is the new commander of a minesweeper, and he’s incompetent. He doesn’t know how to sail, he’s afraid of combat and he sweats small stuff like the status of the crew’s shirt tails while not noticing major issues like the cutting of a tow line. And he really loses it over strawberries, launching a major investigation into a missing quart of them during a combat mission.

The aforementioned Keefer notices Queeg’s shortcomings first, and devotes nearly all his energy into poisoning the crew into disloyalty and rebellion. Which makes Queeg more paranoid and more incompetent. But when push comes to shove and the crew decides it’s time to give Queeg the heave ho, Keefer gets weak at the knees. He wants the captain gone, but he doesn’t want to assume the risk associated with taking a stand and undermining a commanding officer – that’s going to have to be the job of the ship’s second in command, Maryk.

The interesting aspects about Caine are its subtleties. Is Queeg that bad of a commander, or are the men making him weak through repeated acts of disloyalty? Could Queeg have gotten better over time if his officers guided him toward what was really important and helped him succeed? Would the men have rebelled had Keefer not stoked the flames? Is Keefer a victim of Queeg’s incompetence or a villain who sabotages him for sport?

It’s not cut and dry because all those questions could be answered in multiple ways. Queeg has a lot of problems and he’s a bit of a jerk, but with a little bit of effort from a few of the officers, his pain in the ass factor could have been minimized. Or maybe not…no one tries to help Queeg, so we’ll never know whether he was salvageable.

Guilty Pleasures: The Twilight Series

Yes, I read all four of the Twilight books. And, no, I’m not sorry - I actually liked the series. Not to the point of being obsessed like the Twilight dad on the recent episode of Parks and Recreation who handcuffs himself in Leslie’s office to get the books placed in the Pawnee time capsule, but certainly to the point of being entertained.

There’s been a lot of flack about the Twilight books, not all of it undeserved. The main character, Bella, is total milquetoast. Have you ever met a teenager that never drinks, parties or does anything more interesting than (occasionally) go to a movie (all of which were completely age appropriate…no R ratings here!)? Even if you live in the most remote spot in America, no one is that boring – except maybe the Mormons who had a heavy hand in the morality behind the book.

True she’s got the inherent drama of dating a vampire and being best friends with a werewolf, but still. A teenage girl would have girl friends that help her smuggle makeup and tarty clothes into school so she can change into skankwear without her parents knowing. She would have a sleepover every now and again where the ladies sneak out at 10 pm to meet up with boys with cars, booze and cigarettes. Something! If you never push the limits of parental authority, how can you even really be a teenager?

And some of the books were better than others. Twilight, the original, really did get you hooked, and had a taut plot line. Boy meets girl, boy is strange and mysterious, girl is intrigued, boy turns out to be vampire. Cool! Plus, there was the thriller element, with a stray vampire coming to town, taking a shine to Bella as a meal and stalking her. Good stuff. And that vampire employed some pretty good tricks that were suspenseful and fun to read.

New Moon, however, blew taco chunks. The overwhelming majority of the book features Bella brooding and flirting with teen angst suicide because her vampire broke up with her. Bad message – you don’t flirt with death because your boyfriend is gone, and it’s not OK to romanticize depression, Stephanie Meyer. I don’t care if he is her “spirit husband,” or whatever the Mormons call it.

And the last book was just downright creepy. The werewolf “imprints,” aka finds his marriage partner and spiritual soul mate, on Bell’s baby. Yes, a baby. Stephanie Meyer wants us to believe it is true love. I’d call it a lengthy prison sentence. Eeew. And the overall series ending was incredibly weak. The Volturi are supposed to be hell bent on destroying the vampire clan, resorting to any cheap trick possible to justify murder. But in the end, we’re supposed to believe that vampire case before the Volturi was strong enough to convince the corrupt leaders that they were wrong? What?

But still, the books are worth reading. They only take a nanosecond to plow through, so it’s not a hefty time investment. Each book does have its moments, and it’s worth it to have a working Twilight knowledge, if for no other reason than to be in on the joke the next time there’s a reference on 30 Rock.