Book Review: George R.R. Martin's "A Storm of Swords"

          Sometimes, books, particularly book series, draw you into a particular realm, from which you have no desire to escape. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” series has had just that effect on me. The series has drawn me in, enticing me to delve deeper and deeper into its pages, surprising me with new plot twists as each chapter melts away, and encouraging me with the tender bait of an imagined history, and secrets yet to be revealed. I have been hooked, and so I continue to read the series.

          “A Storm of Swords” lives up to its title. Battles rage across Westeros. New kings rise, and old kings fall, breeding a perpetual war that continues to threaten the last harvests that the continent-kingdom can reap before winter is truly upon it. In the North, Mance Rayder throws the might of his Wildling horde against the defenses of the Wall. His purpose, however, is not truly to bring the Wall down, but to bring the wall between him and his people and the Others that threaten their lives. He deploys his cunning and strategic military mind to divert the Nights Watch and make his conquest easier, but, in the end, all his tactics come to naught, except a storm of swords and a rain of blood. In Essos, Daenerys has raised an army of former slaves and turn-cloak sell-swords. With them, she will bring war to Essos, biding her time until her young dragons grow strong enough to wage her ultimate battle to retake Westeros.

          Many people perish by sword-point, in the continents’ various struggles, but the sharpest, most poignant deaths do not always come at the point of a sword. Crossbow bolts and longbow arrows, traitors’ poisons and high precipices are potent weapons for assassins and murderers, too. By the end of “A Storm of Swords,” the Westeros that readers have come to know will be forever changed. Some of its longest standing characters will not live to see its end. The game of thrones carries on, and it becomes clearer and clearer that, when you play the game, you either win, or you die.

          Supernatural forces are emerging with greater fervor than ever before; however, it is unclear if the old gods of the first men are lending their help to those who pray to them, or if the new gods, the seven of the Seven Kingdoms have decided to play a part in the struggles for the throne. Or, perhaps, it is the god of King Stannis’s red priestess, R’hollor, the so-called Lord of Light, watching a war against his enemy, the unnamed god of darkness. Though it remains unclear which gods, if any, have entered the fray, it is clear that strange things are happening in Westeros. The dead are rising, and not just the undead wights raised to do the bidding of the icy Others beyond the wall. No, more familiar dead men and women are rising, as well. Instead of being thralls, these resurrected men and women retain some of the character they had in life: their mind, and the grisly injuries that brought about their deaths. For even new life cannot banish the marks of death.

          Not only are the dead rising, but living rise and fall, as well. Nobles are more easily made than born and raised, especially when they die so quickly in battle. Westeros has many new lords and ladies, and few of them are insignificant. Many claim the same noble seats, for each king sees fit to raise his own followers to high positions, as both a reward for previous loyalties and a bid for continued fealty. For one, the new lord at Harrenhal, the most hotly contested of seats, nobility means marriage, and with marriage comes the prospect of even greater power. With this new power, the new lord of Harrenhal means to finally assert himself openly as one of the greatest players of the game of thrones.

          As I suggested in the opening, George Martin has enchanted me with his tale. I fully planned on taking a break on the series after reading the third book. I thought I could read something different, and then come back to the series, but I now know that that is impossible. I want to know what will happen next; I almost need to know what will happen next. The holes that he purposely leaves in characters’ backgrounds, holes that could only be filled by the knowledge possessed by other characters, either living or dead have caused me to entertain hundreds of my own theories. I only hope that Martin will answer my theories with truths, or at least with something as close to truth as one can get from any of Martin’s characters. For the characters are the most compelling parts of Martin’s novels. Their limited range of knowledge, their individual senses of right and wrong, and their focused personal narratives, driven by personal goals and desires make them uncannily human, while their sometimes larger than life involvements in the world of the novel reminds us that they are still products of fiction.
JCM
19 April 2013