Plot is Coming... Eventually

Game of Thrones

by George R.R. Martin
p. 1996

I have taken a regrettably long hiatus from writing in this blog and I’m rather ashamed to admit that it’s because I got stuck on one book for a rather long time. Because I have a compulsion to finish one story before I engage in another, in that time I wasn’t really reading anything else. This is not a good idea for a writer because it is generally recommended to read as much as possible if you want to help your writing, but that is the way it happened and there’s no changing it so the best I can do is write out my thoughts and move on.

The book in question was George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones. Adam encouraged me to pick up this series, so I guess you have him in part to blame for my long absence. The idea was to read the book in time to watch the HBO series before anything was spoiled but that didn’t happen. It’s possible that my enjoyment of this first volume was hindered by the fact that I in part knew what was coming and wasn’t surprised by any of the book’s ‘big shockers’ but I don’t think it really mattered all that much. The thing about Game of Thrones is that it is not a story that relies on shock value—with over 800 pages it would be pretty ambitious if it was meant to alarm you with every turn.

I don’t know what it is that didn’t quite grab me about Thrones. I suppose the fact that I have a problem putting it into words makes the fact that I am reviewing it rather silly, but then there is a reason it took me so long to slog through it. It’s not that the writing was bad; I didn’t find it bad by any standards, it just isn’t the type of writing I typically enjoy. It was often dry, overlong, and with the exception of Tyrion Lannister’s chapters, utterly humorless. I’m not saying that every book is meant to be funny and exciting—often the best fiction can be found in entirely dramatic situations—but for 800 pages, a little levity is appreciated every now and then. But if you’re reading Martin’s epic, you’re going to be a little starved for it.

I am the type of writer and viewer who loves ensembles. The stories I craft and the ones that others have crafted that appeal to me are often chock full of varied characters interacting with each other. I have never had a problem keeping track of ensemble casts, like Firefly or Harry Potter or ER. Even on shows I barely watch, I have a firm grasp on character names. I only preface with this so you grasp the full extent of my meaning when I say that Game of Thrones has entirely too many characters. Outside of the Starks and Tyrion, I had a difficult time keeping track of all the names and houses, even with the family tree in the appendix. Maybe it wouldn’t seem like ‘too’ many if I found more of them appealing but I didn’t. Characters that started with a lot of promise were sidelined too early and never found purpose in the entire 800 pages. Others were scarcely visited or didn’t come into their own until the end, and the ones that were intriguing weren’t used enough.

I also had a problem with the way women were represented in Martin’s epic. So far, with one exception, they seem to exist solely to prop up men. Catelyn, the ‘mother’ character, is just a tiresome unforgiving bitch there to support first her husband then her son. Sansa is just a weak little wreck with no brain of her own. The only reason I even felt bad for her by her final chapter is because it took me so long to trudge through the book that I kept forgetting how awful she was. Daenerys was a glorified sex toy—which is extremely uncomfortable to read given that she’s only 13—until her transformation in the final pages of the book. Maybe if she’d found a purpose earlier on I could have forgiven the weak writing for women, but by time she finally showed some promise as a leader, I just didn’t care anymore, and of course, now that she is trying, we’ll have to put up with another 800 pages of misogynistic dialogue as everyone tells her she can’t do it. The only female character with a spirit from the start is Arya but she’s only a child and it wouldn’t be believable if she didn’t have a long way to go before completely owning that fire. How sad is it that the only woman worth admiring in 800 pages is a 9-year-old girl? Meanwhile, the menfolk are fighting and debating and deciding their life’s purposes and Jon and Robb, who aren’t much older than Arya, are battling with inner demons and leading armies.

Yes, it’s very obvious that Thrones was written by a man and for men. What saddens me is that this is an entirely fictional universe. It’s a universe based on historical feudal history, sure, but it’s still fictional. There was no reason not to give women a stronger, more central role besides that fact that Martin wanted it that way. It’s disheartening to see that even in fantasy fiction, women still have to fight to prove their worth.

Misogyny aside, Game of Thrones was by no means unsalvageable; there were a lot of threads I found intriguing enough to one day approach the second book (after a considerable break, of course). I was very interested in Jon Snow’s coming of age story and at one point proclaimed an interest in reading an entire book centered on Snow and his brothers in black. Tyrion is amazing and I will always happily tune in when he’s at the forefront, even if I don’t give one whit about the rest of the Lannisters. Arya is well on her way to being the badass we all know she will be and even Bran had something potentially engaging there with his cryptic/prophetic dreams, to say nothing of the Starks’ connection with their direwolves. But I just don’t care enough about any of these things to run out and pick up book two just yet. It might take some force of will to get me into the story again and I can almost guarantee I will have forgotten every character’s name outside of the main ten or so.

I almost suspect that this is that one exception where I might enjoy the visual representation over the literary one, if only because the show forces them to tighten up the plot and narrow down to the important parts, but as I have yet to partake, the jury is still out on this one. For now, I just need to move on to something less dreary and tedious.