Yeah, I should have done book reviews of “Game of Thrones”, “A Clash of Kings” and “A Storm of Swords” as well.
Those would have at least been positive reviews. Well, mostly positive anyway.
When I first read “A Game of Thrones” I found it to be a generally positive variation of the fantasy tropes that litter the genre. After wasting hundreds of hours reading the never-ending stories of the “Sword of Truth” and “Wheel of time” series only to finally just get tired of them, I thought that I had at least found a book that understood the need for a story to have an ARC. You know, a “beginning” and an “END!”
But with “A Feast for Crows” George R.R. Martin has become Terry Goodkind or Robert Jordan. He has stopped telling a story and has begun to provide endless anecdotes about a series of less and less compelling characters. Plus he has thrown all attempts at creating a plausible world to the winds.
I have rarely found myself in the position of wishing a protagonist of a story would just die already. But I found that to be the case with several of the story’s point of view characters. Jaime Lannister, the deliciously evil incestuous queen fornicating oath-breaker and hurler of children from windows has now become a sympathetic character, whose life has been misunderstood and who has a heart (and hand) of gold. Bullshit. He was a sociopathic, psychotic killer. And he was far more interesting that way. Just KILL HIM.
We already have one Stark child navigating through a series of personalities with Arya, now we have Sansa becoming a second Stark child who has lost her identity and adopted a new one. But even her new personality is still a simpering, whimpering weak, witless fool who still cannot fathom that the world is harsh and arbitrary, and who still yearns for fairy tales. Just KILL HER.
Cersei has gone from political genius to clueless tool, squandering riches, good will, alliances and bed partners right and left. At least she has maintained a sense of evil throughout, unlike her hapless and misunderstood Kingslayer twin.
I finished the book, but I had to make myself finish it. I have no desire to read another 1,000 pages of personal anecdotes about food, travel, sailing, sex and circumstance which goes nowhere from a story perspective.
I don’t recommend this book. I certainly am not going to wait another decade to find out whether Cersei is executed or if Jon discovers his heritage, or if Arya recovers her sight and her name…
I. Just. Don’t. Care. Anymore.