The Game of Thrones- A Book Review

The Game of Thrones is a remarkable novel-a tale of fantasy where truth and lie weave in and out of  the silken brushstrokes of an artist. An artist devoted to the art, not the pleasures of the audience. George RR Martin deftly carves a world so real; you begin to yearn for a glimpse of light where fiction shines.

The game of thrones opens darkly, on a cold winter night, where a young commander leads his mutinous group of three to see the dead that lie strewn in a village-side. There then begins silent clanging of the steel-will of youth against the light of....The Others. 

But in the darkness of the night, in the land of Winterfell, in the heat of the passionate love of Ned Stark and his wife Catelyn  the reader finds warmth. Martin gives the reader a reason to smile as the young Stark lords ride with their ‘Lord Father’ and his ‘bastard son’, Jon Snow. 

The litter of Direwolves they find, gives each child a loyal and powerful companion but also leaves behind questions that stir deep beliefs of Winterfell.

A message in the night from lady Catelyn’s sister forces Ned and his wife to cleave a yawning chasm in their family, allowing Ned to ride to the King’s Landing, to be the King’s Hand and support his friend’s rule, now weary under the strains of his drunken and careless ways; spawning restlessness and treachery. The girls, Arya and Sansa, and the young boy Bran are to follow Ned, the other sons to stay behind and Jon Snow is to ride to join the brotherhood of the Night watch of the ice Wall. The divide pulls them away in a way that Catelyn had only feared in the beginning. The cracks that begin to form under the weight of the Iron Throne stretch long arms, forcing lands and loyalties to crumble.

The little twirling beard of Littlefinger, the trusting King’s smouldering rage at the Targaryen, the sharp Tyrion, the avarice of Cersei Lannister, the honorable, yet naive, Ned, the conflicts of family and duty, the spiraling tunnel of growth that children find themselves trapped in, whispers that sweep as quiet as shadow, strength that makes Arya as calm as water....the writing swims in a never-ending flow of similes that Martin allows to gush or trickle by as his will pleases.

George RR Martin stirs the dust ridden figurines of kings, warriors, queens alive with a new stroke; their ideals of honour, truth and fealty corrupted with the black of greed and vengeance. Every player of the Game of Thrones comes alive with the words that are uttered. 

But no, their thoughts are never clearly revealed. The shadow of cunning behind a warm smile, a reassuring touch, or a forged relationship can never be seen; he slips away before light can hold him in her arms. Death comes quickly. Martin does not care to spare the soft heart of the unsuspecting reader-his sword is sharp and he wields her well. Time after time, the world Martin carefully builds through words and scenes are shattered with one single touch. There is nothing the reader can rely on-no ideal, no thought, no one. Yet when the men seek vengeance and women scheme while in bed, it is honor, pride and their blood that they swear on. But, swear for whom? Why? The questions are left ominously unanswered and the sentences darkly unfinished. Martin sits atop The Wall and swings the reader from trusting dealings, cruel revelations and breathless lovemaking. Despite the riot of colour that Martin flings into the reader’s eyes repeatedly, some artistry blends them into each other, bringing the image of corrupted mankind, standing divided against an unknown power, blurring to black for the reader’s eyes.

It is not a book for the soft of heart. Notions of good, of evil, of the honor in a word well-kept, of loyalty whose price is blood, of justice whose hand is swift, fair and merciful are swept away under a barrage of arrows that treason shoots; unrelenting. The book shows man what mankind did among the splendour of Pharoas and the silver helms of Rome, and still does in the world today-for power, greed and vengeance.

The doom of treachery swirls for hours even after the book lies conquered. Thin fingers of the mist of gloom clouded my mind, before a strong dose of reality television blew them away with sharp lights, blaring sound and well-rehearsed tears.

The Game of Thrones is a hard read, but a book worth the read. But read it one must, acceptance of treason must come....why you ask? Why, because it is known, the truth in the word of men will not always last. Because the warmth of summer will not always linger. Because.... Winter is Coming