Game of Thrones -- A Storm of Swords by George R. R. Martin

Photo: U.S. hardcover, from the book's Wikipedia page

Unbelievably entertaining and engrossing read, which--as I pointed out in my review of its predecessor--is really saying something, since I knew every major thing that was going to happen.  That in no way took away from the read, and may even have enhanced it.

As is necessary for high fantasy, and perhaps fantasy in general, the writing is so totally enveloping that it is like you're in that world.  World-building has to be perfect in books like this, but I'll bet that it's rarely this much so.  The Lord of the Rings books were less world-built than are these; I don't mean that as a negative towards Tolkien, as he paved the road and showed the way.  But Martin doesn't focus on over-description of grasses and trees.  Instead his writing is completely focused on completeness in every way: how everything looks, smells, etc., just as you're taught in writing classes, though not to this extent.  He doesn't just description from all of the senses: he focuses more on the sight and the sound, and less on the others.  And he does not describe to the detriment of the action, as Tolkien did.

Some scenes are better in the show, but to describe how and why would be to partly ruin the experience of reading the book, or watching the show.  So just a quick mention of what things are different, without mentioning how they're different:

--though the end of this book brings you up-to-date with this past season's end, the book ends with something not yet seen on the show.

--Brienne of Tarth does not do in the Hound.  I prefer the book's way.  It struck me as unrealistic that Brienne would run across Arya and the Hound, way out in the middle of nowhere, on an outcropping.

--Ygritte does not get killed by a little boy shooting an arrow.  I prefer the show's way, though I admit the book's way is much more realistic.  Martin does not go for the melodrama.

--Something major happens to Jon Snow on the Wall in the book and not in the show.  At least not yet.

--Littlefinger's dialogue before his push is much better in the show.  Essentially the same in both, but the show just nails it so much better.

--(Martin is better than the show's writers with the overall dialogue, and the everyday expressions, etc.  But at a climactic moment, the show's writers really nail it.  And this isn't because I saw it before I read it.  Trust me.)

--The book emphasizes how many guys Cersei sleeps with.  It's clearly a weapon for her.  The show does not...well, show this.

--The book makes it very clear who killed Joffrey.  Good to know I got it right from the show.  We know from the show that Littlefinger was behind the whole thing (which I wouldn't have figured out), but who exactly put the poison in the cup?  Oops...You did know it was the wine and not the cake, right?

--The book breaks the battle of the Wall into two or three distinct parts, over a few days.  The show gives it to us all at once, all in one episode.  I like the show's take better.

--The book does not show the giant's attack in the tunnel like the show does.  It was a good call of the show's to do so.

And there's more, but you get the idea.  I realized while reading that the show made some excellent decisions about what to emphasize (the scene between Tywin and Tyrien was better in the show, too, as is Tyrien's dialogue at that climactic moment) and what not to.  It is a rare thing that a show is better than its material, but it's a close call here.

But that's not why you should read the book.  The writing does something that the show, no matter how hard (or successfully) it tries, cannot duplicate: it envelops you into its world-building so completely that even a visual medium cannot match.

P.S.--This was the last book I read in 2014.  It was my 25th, for a total of 10,283 pages.  About 27% of those pages were just the three Game of Thrones books I read.

The Hobbit--The Battle of the Five Armies

 Photo: Smaug, interviewed by Stephen Colbert, from the movie's Wikipedia page.

There's been some major backlash in my neck of the woods about these Hobbit films.  Not excessive negativity, exactly.  Nobody's saying they hate these films, including this last one.  The consensus is that they're not as good as the Lord of the Rings films.

They're not, of course.  The LOTR films had more relevance, more spirituality (and, strangely, I mean that), more clarity of vision, and more of an iconography going for it than do these films.  I'm on vacation right now, so I watched the three LOTR films and the two previous Hobbit films, and there's certainly no comparison.  The LOTR films are better.

But that doesn't make the Hobbit films bad.  In fact, when I watched the other two, the third one seemed even better to me than it had just on its own.  There is a saga here, a more subtle, less pronounced relevance and spirituality than the LOTR movies.  (And these don't have talking trees, which can't be a bad thing.)  To appreciate this one more, maybe we need to remember the beginning of the first Hobbit movie.

Erebor had been the greatest kingdom ever built.  It was ruled by a king, his son and his grandson.  This grandson, Thorin Oakenshield, is the main character of the Hobbit movies (and maybe of the books, but I have to admit I haven't read them) in much the same way that Aragon was the main character of the LOTR movies.  Both stories were "written" and narrated by hobbits, but they passed themselves off as spectators in their own writings, a la Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby.  They were much more than that, of course, and may have been the main characters themselves, but they didn't "write" them that way.  Thematically, much of the relevance is carried by Thorin and Aragon.

This may be one of the major differences, now that I think of it.  Frodo Baggins is the main character of the LOTR movies because he is the Ringbearer.  He's the one on The Quest, as opposed to Aragon and the others, who are on the same such quest as Frodo is, though Aragon is also on his own internal journey: He is the king in the Return of the King, after all.  But his major importance is helping Frodo.  In The Hobbit, it may be the opposite.  Bilbo Baggins is the major character, overall, because he finds the ring, and because he becomes the Ringbearer, though he does not realize it at the time.  If he doesn't steal the ring, Sauron will get when Sauroman gets Gollum; instead, Bilbo the Thief essentially steals it from Gollum and brings it, for awhile, to safety in the Shire.  But for most of the movies, Bilbo is helping Thorin on his quest, not the other way around.  And, as someone mentioned recently, fewer people will care about Thorin.  They wanted to get to the Ring.

But the Hobbit films are really not about the Ring.  They are necessary, however, in the same way that this last film shows: Cause and effect.  The dragon drives Thorin and his people from their home as a symbolic representation of the greed of his people.  If you're going to care that much for the gold, then someone else will, too.  Like a dragon.  So the dragon takes over and the gold--and, more importantly, the mountain and the land--are safe because nobody wants to mess with the dragon.  But when the dragon dies, the gold and the mountain are open for all takers.  Turns out, there are five.

Here's where I think most people lose track of the relevance here, or maybe this is where Tolkien and / or Peter Jackson failed to highlight it enough.  As someone said in this last movie, it's not the gold that's more important, it's the mountain and the land.  The mountain sits in the middle of an important trade route.  Control the mountain, you control the trade.  And the "people" who count on that trade.

For those who know their history--as Tolkien did; he was a respected linguist and expert in old societies and languages long before he was a famous author of high fantasy.  His translation of Beowulf was the standard before Fitzgerald and Heaney came along--this should all sound familiar.  It is the purpose of Thorin's life to recapture his land from its usurpers.  This is the main point.  Bilbo gets it when he tells them why he didn't run away when he had the chances: Because he has a home to go back to.  These people have been kicked out of theirs, and that's not right.  And so he will help them to get it back.

In Tolkien's lifetime, such was exactly the case with the Middle East.  (I'm no historian, so forgive whatever butchery of history may now occur.)  The Middle East is a land mass unlike any other in the world.  Without traveling it, if you want to get to Africa, you'd have to take a ship or plane.  Those who control the Middle East control all trade (today, much or most of the trade) coming and going from all of Africa.  Control that, and you will have riches and power, then and now.  Combine that with the extreme religious significance of those lands (three of the world's major religions spring from it) and combine that with the concentration of oil there, and you've got land that everyone wants.

And they'll all fight for it.  As they all have been, for the last three+ thousand years.  With no end in sight.  If I remember my Old Testament right, the Jews had control of that land--though even in those pages, there were many wars and many different nationalities ruling that land.  Finally, by the time of the writings in the New Testament, the Jews were driven out by the Romans in...60 to 70 BCE (this is all off the top of my head here) and for almost two thousand years had not been officially recognized as the leaders of that area, especially Israel.  But in 1948, the Jewish State (more of a political term than a geographical one, I think) was firmly established and recognized.  And there's been war there ever since, of course.

Tolkien published The Hobbit in 1937, but the war over the Middle East and the Jewish insistence on inhabiting that land reached a pitch throughout the thirties, and, as a historian, he was very much aware of it.  Tolkien insisted that the Lord of the Rings books had nothing to do with the Nazis, Jews and World War II, and I'll bet he said that the Hobbit books had nothing to do with what I've just been writing about.  But Robert Frost also said that his poem "The Road Not Taken" was a pastiche of overly-sentimental poetry with Deep Meaning, popular at the time.  But sometimes the artist is the worst judge of his own art, or of the creation of it.  If Tolkien's writing had nothing to do with any of this, I'll eat my next paycheck.  (Instead of the banks and utility companies, who eat them now.)

In fact, it is said in the Hobbit movies that the battle fought for the mountain would be the battles to end all battles.  The final battle would be fought there.  This sounds like the Middle East and the Apocalypse again.  In fact, isn't that the reason for this ultimate battle, in the movie and of the proposed future Armageddon?  Not for the people or of the riches or of the religious significance of the area--but for the fight against those trying to claim them.  It'd be the mother of all battles, involving many armies (The Hobbit has five), because they were not fighting for something, but against it.

At any rate, it's all tied together.  Everything's connected, these books and movies say (though probably more the books than the movies; Tolkien would write more about the history and Jackson would make a movie more about the dragon and gold, as a moviemaker should), and indeed it is.  No Hobbit, no Lord of the Rings.  (I wonder if Tolkien paused while writing--minutely--about the Ring in the Hobbit, which was really more of a children's book.  Did he know he was going to springboard from that when he wrote it, or afterward?)  No Thorin, no Aragon.  Both try not to just reclaim their kingdoms and kingships, but their honor and place in history, as well.  In the fight against the world's worst evils, who wouldn't want to be remembered?

This is more of what the Hobbit movies are about.  It's not as explicit as in the LOTR movies, but it's there.  And that's sort of the point.  History is rarely obvious.  It's a slow and gradual buildup of cause and effect, of things both great and small.  It's knowing there was a Cole before there was a 9/11.

Or, it's just a good CGI / special effects movie with more intelligence and relevance than usual for the genre.  Sometimes I think too much.       

I Return, and with A Storm of Swords

Yes, it's been a long time since my last entry.  I never go a month between blogs, but it's been a trying time.  I won't bore you or whine about the details, except to say that I almost lost a loved one--but Jackson the Greyhound is doing much better and is still very enthusiastically with us.  But a week-plus worth of vet bills isn't cheap, and the predictable had to happen, made even worse by the time of year.  Of course, all the vet bills had to come after I finished my Christmas shopping--and finally spent a bit on myself and a few loved ones.  Isn't that always the way?  I've also hit a really tough insomnia time: three hours a night, or none at all, for about a month.  Sometimes I get five hours, but I get a couple of hours, can't go back to sleep, then I get a couple of more...Overall, not restful.  As might be expected, this has led me to get a bit run-down, and a little sick, though nothing really terrible.  So I'm very out-of-whack, and exhausted, and just overall feeling really out of it.

But, surprisingly, I'm also very energetic, and I've had a series of minor epiphanies (if there can be such things) and I have a new-found appreciation for my space in life and those who occupy it with me.  Always good to have, but even more so at this time of year.  And so I am grateful.  Perhaps there will be more about this to come.  And thank-you to those who emailed and voiced concerns.  I'm fine.

In the meantime, I will leave you with a very quick review of A Storm of Swords, as I have decided to read the books while the series takes its long intermission.  And so--

Photo: U.S. hardcover, from its Wikipedia page


Unbelievably entertaining and engrossing read, which--as I pointed out in my review of its predecessor--is really saying something, since I knew every major thing that was going to happen. 

That in no way took away from the read, and may even have enhanced it.

As is necessary for high fantasy, and perhaps fantasy in general, the writing is so totally enveloping that it is like you're in that world.  World-building has to be perfect in books like this, but I'll bet that it's rarely this much so.  The Lord of the Rings books were less world-built than are these; I don't mean that as a negative towards Tolkien, as he paved the road and showed the way.  But Martin doesn't focus on over-description of grasses and trees.  Instead his writing is completely focused on completeness in every way: how everything looks, smells, etc., just as you're taught in writing classes, though not to this extent.  He doesn't just description from all of the senses: he focuses more on the sight and the sound, and less on the others.  And he does not describe to the detriment of the action, as Tolkien did.

Some scenes are better in the show, but to describe how and why would be to partly ruin the experience of reading the book, or watching the show.  So just a quick mention of what things are different, without mentioning how they're different:

--though the end of this book brings you up-to-date with this past season's end, the book ends with something not yet seen on the show.

--Brienne of Tarth does not do in the Hound.  I prefer the book's way.  It struck me as unrealistic that Brienne would run across Arya and the Hound, way out in the middle of nowhere, on an outcropping.

--Ygritte does not get killed by a little boy shooting an arrow.  I prefer the show's way, though I admit the book's way is much more realistic.  Martin does not go for the melodrama.

--Something major happens to Jon Snow on the Wall in the book and not in the show.  At least not yet.

--Jeyne of Westerling does not attend the wedding, which is like getting to the airport late and missing your flight, which then crashes.

--Littlefinger's dialogue before his push is much better in the show.  Essentially the same in both, but the show just nails it so much better.

--(Martin is better than the show's writers with the overall dialogue, and the everyday expressions, etc.  But at a climactic moment, the show's writers really nail it.  And this isn't because I saw it before I read it.  Trust me.)

--The book emphasizes how many guys Cersei sleeps with.  It's clearly a weapon for her.  The show does not...well, show this.

--The book makes it very clear who killed Joffrey.  Good to know I got it right from the show.  We know from the show that Littlefinger was behind the whole thing (which I wouldn't have figured out), but who exactly put the poison in the cup?  Oops...You did know it was the wine and not the cake, right?

--The book breaks the battle of the Wall into two or three distinct parts, over a few days.  The show gives it to us all at once, all in one episode.  I like the show's take better.

--The book does not show the giant's attack in the tunnel like the show does.  It was a good call of the show's to do so.

And there's more, but you get the idea.  I realized while reading that the show made some excellent decisions about what to emphasize (the scene between Tywin and Tyrion was better in the show, too, as is Tyrion's dialogue at that climactic moment) and what not to.  It is a rare thing that a show is better than its material, but it's a close call here.

But that's not why you should read the book.  The writing does something that the show, no matter how hard (or successfully) it tries, cannot duplicate: it envelops you into its world-building so completely that even a visual medium cannot match.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkein

I suspect that I wouldn't have anything more to say about the plot and themes, for you, because if you're reading this, you've read the books or seen the movies already.  I could go into a few changes from one to the other, but I won't put such disclaimers here.  Instead, I was interested in Tolkien's writing choices, as I was in the review for the FOTR.  Here, Tolkien basically splits the book in half: the first half to Aragorn and Gandalf; the second half to Frodo and Sam and Gollum.  I know that Tolkien wrote the "trilogy" all at once, not intending for breaks, and that his publishers took that volume of about 1,000 pages and split it into threes.  This leads to what sometimes look to be odd writing choices, but considering the big 1,000 book, really isn't.  In other words, it looks like Tolkien wasn't going back and forth with his narration between the two groups of heroes--most other authors would have.  It looks like he split the second book between the two groups and did not go back and forth between them.  But it only looks that way, since it's 398 pages.  But if you think of the three books all as one, he does, in fact, go back and forth--just for several hundred pages at a time between the groups.  So, as in Elf-land and Middle Earth in general, that which seems to be is not.

Also of note was a comment from Sam on page 325.  Boromir's brother has been chastising Frodo and questioning him hard; Sam gets slowly angry at this and finally responds--but mentions they have the ring.  He realizes his verbal goof and says to Faramir that he has spoken and behaved handsomely so far, and he should continue to do so after Sam's gaffe.  Part of that retort was, "But handsome is as handsome does, we say."  Substitute "handsome" for "stupid," and you've got Forrest Gump.  Tolkien's work stretches far.

The last thing I'll note is the very obvious bearing Beowulf had on Tolkein.  The swords and such, the fighting, the horns on everything, the righteous in battle stuff, the putting of the dead on water, and so much more there isn't room to mention.  But if anyone knows LOTR: TTT and Beowulf, you can't miss the fact that Shelob is a direct descendent of the She-hag in Beowulf (and maybe a tiny bit of Grendel, too).

One work, one deed, leads to another.  Such as it is in Middle-Earth; such as it is here.