I know it looks like I decided to read a book because a TV show about it was on.[1] And, okay, that turns out to be minimally, tangentially accurate. Really, I was just going to start three or four books in to get myself more or less ready for the new book in July. But it turns out that it’s been five to six years since I’ve ready any of these, and after one of my friends started reading and discussing with me based on the strength of the show and I realized I had forgotten quite a lot, I decided to enh, screw it, and go ahead and pick up the whole thing. (Sadly, at this rate I will be a few weeks late for book five.)
All of that said, I don’t know how much I have to add to A Game of Thrones over my previous review. What has mainly struck me about this book is that in the midst of so much impending doom and so many horrible acts, there is really a lot of nobility. Any scene that contains the intersection of Jon Snow and a sword, for example. That, and that it’s well-written. My complaint about the prose from last time really does vanish the moment I’m not reading it aloud. Which is fine; not everything can be created solely for its rhythms. And contrary to previous unreviewed complaints I and others have made, each reread brings me more and more to terms with the fact that there just aren’t really any frozen zombies in this book, at least not relative to the promise of the prologue. I would recommend it unreservedly if there was nothing but wildlings and mammoths beyond the Wall, which just makes any zombie sightings delicious desserts atop an excellent meal.
Oh, and one other things that cannot be said often enough: fuck Gregor Clegane, right in the ear. Preferably, with Ice.
[1] Not incidentally, said TV show, widely not known as Article-less Game of Thrones, is really quite good. I think they are poised to make one very large mistake in the midst of a host of brilliant casting and editing choices, and even though said mistake is large if it happens[2], the fact that there’s only one is pretty impressive.
[2] It’s not too late!
Wait what what mistake?
I think I must rot13, since I know of readers here who haven’t read the book and the season isn’t over yet.
Gurer’f fbzr snveyl pevgvpny vasbezngvba nobhg pregnva riragf fheebhaqvat gur qrngu bs Ylnaan Fgnex ybpxrq hc va n urnq gung vf bayl tbvat gb or nggnpurq sbe nobhg 45-60 zber zvahgrf bs svyz, gbcf.
Oh. True.
Gung’f gehr. Gurl’ir oebhtug hc Ylnaan, jung, gjvpr (vafregrq vagb gur Prefrv/Arq pbairefngvba va gur tneqra; va gur pelcg va gur svefg rcvfbqr) ohg gurer unf orra irel yvggyr zragvba bs Eurntne naq noqhpgvba naq fghss; vg jbhyq unir oerrmrq evtug ol gur aba-obbx ernqref…
Ohg gura, va zl svefg ernq-guebhtu vg oerrmrq ol zr, gbb. Fb V qba’g xabj vs gung’f n zvfgnxr….
(And by the way, the rot13 of the name of the lady in question turns out to be nicely appropriate.)
The breezing by would be cool and all, I’m just troubled that someone forgot to make the wind blow in the first place.
(I’m pretty sure there’s an ObJordan in there somewhere.)