Differences between Feasts and Dances

There's a pretty even share of female characters between the settings featured in A Dance with Dragons and A Feast for Crows. However, there's way more sex in A Dance with Dragons - both implicit and explicit. But it isn't overblown nor does it come across as cheesy. It's written with a straightforward and minimalist description, touching on only the essentials of such encounters.

It's quite accurate the way that Martin has his female characters getting into arrangements that are politically or socially beneficial, but much less so for love. Insofar as the world of A Song of Ice and Fire is a reproduction of medieval Europe. Dany's turning Daario away, for example. Or Asha's being wedded to Erik Ironmaker. Both actions are strategic in some way or other, but certainly not done out of love.

Setting A Dance with Dragons apart, though is the number of characters going by nicknames or epithets, even perspective characters. For some such measures make sense, Sansa for example, or Theon, are so much changed from what they were, a new name is fitting. But some come across as merely stirring up intrigue.

"The Wayward Bride" (Asha), for instance, at first intrigued. But, once it was clear that it was just Asha, the nature of my interest changed. It went from the desire to solve a mystery to curiousity. I'd like to say that not presenting such chapters with characters' given names suggests that they're immune to harm, that they aren't on Martin's kill list. But by that logic Syrio Forel must be alive and well, since he was but a side character, and not even the face of his own chapter.

A refreshing stir of old embers

Read the warning in this blog's banner before proceeding. Here there be spoilers.

Having made my way through four sections of A Dance with Dragons, a pattern's emerged. Only  Daenerys' chapter had bits intended to refresh the reader. They're the parts of narration that often show up in sequels. A paragraph here to explain this reference to an earlier plot point or device, some explanation of why a character matters that's based on past books' events. That sort of thing.

Since Daenerys didn't show up in A Feast for Crows, it's clear why G.R.R.M. included refreshers in her chapter. Hers was also the preview chapter at the end of A Feast for Crows. Curiously, Cersei's first chapter from that book was the preview chapter from A Storm of Swords.

Of course, that doesn't mean that the women of the series are being touted as anything, Cersei's a major player at King's Landing, the core of A Feast for Crows. Likewise, all plots within the reach of her gravity turn around Daenerys, it seems.

Tyrion's on his way to her, just as Selmy was two books back. Of course, Tyrion's chapters are more wit-based than anything Selmy would have starred in. I didn't get the impression that the dialogue in Tyrion's recent chapter was as forced as it was in his first in A Dance with Dragons, since there's much more interrogation going on.

Though, I have to unabashedly praise where praise is required.

Jon Snow's not my favourite character by far, yet Ygritte is definitely in my top three for secondary characters. Her death forced me to close the book and call it a day as far as reading further went, and all because of her signature line.

When Melisandre repeats this line at the end of Jon's first chapter in Dance, I teared up. Ygritte's character resonated so much with me that that's all it takes, just a sign pointing back to her and her tragic death. So well done with Ygritte's characterization, G.R.R.M., well done indeed.

Through the Feast, Now waiting for the Dance

Though memory may not serve truly, this is the first time that a book in A Song of Ice and Fire has come full circle.

A Feast for Crows began in Oldtown, with matters of the novices (particularly Pate), and it ends there, with the selfsame character introducing himself to Sam.

That the archmaesters don't want to have the prophecy spoken of and such suggests that my theory about Valyria could hold some water. But the presence of a dragon glass candle suggests that it really is all magic. Though, why couldn't magic create something like an atomic explosion - which is what I think "The Doom" is. The ancient Greeks had steam, so why couldn't a fantasy civilization have something like nuclear power?

As with Jaime, Samwell's greatest characteristic is his growth. Yet, despite all of his deeds and accomplishments, he remains the same at the core, which is interesting. Though, unsurprising. Jaime changes so drastically because his life has gone from one that looked outwards to one that looks inwards. On the other hand, Samwell's life remains largely inward-looking, since he's still very much self-conscious.

Needless to say, I'm definitely ready for book five - A Dance with Dragons - and waiting for the paperback might be harder than I ever expected.

Jaime as a Living Chronicle

The character of Jaime continues to impress me.

Stripped down to the basics, it's simple enough. Badass tough guy, who's cruised through life based on his excellence, is stripped of that excellence, but not of the responsibilities that he had as a result of it. And, so lacking, he must find a way to forge onwards without that which made him great. It's a curious thing, but used to great effect here. But why? What makes this application so special? It's hard to put into words, I think. But I may as well try, right?

It's the history that comes out of it, for the most part. Jaime is a receptacle of the chivalry and knighthood of Westeros' past 20 or so years. As such he's like a living monument to those days. A sort of veteran who is still active, still making the history that he began before he was maimed and lost his skill with the sword.

And that makes him interesting to me, particularly.

A large part of this interest is certainly the fact that the history of the knights of Westeros really interests me, not the least of which being the Sword of the Morning, though I think that his role in the story has nearly played out.

As far as Jon's parentage goes, I'm firmly in the "he's Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryean's" camp. If such a thing exists.

Jaime's psychology is also something with which I'm rapt. I look forward to working further with it as I read through the rest of the series. However, I've got to admit that, aside from Jaime's personality and changing character, there wasn't anything that stood out about this chapter. There's a dream sequence that's curious if compared to Brienne's, but, without a fever, Jaime's dreams are apt to make more sense than those of the Maid of Tarth.

Cersei Doomed by Jaime?

Well, it had to be during this book that Cersei's plans went tits up, and such is definitely the case. Though, whenever a ruler, in fiction or in history, has armed or re-armed their church, it's rarely gone well. Thus, since Martin's series has been inspired by certain historical figures and events, it only makes sense that re-arming the servants of the Seven has proven entirely fatal for her power.

Though, I must admit that Tyrion's absence from this book only drove me to concoct some ad hoc, hypothetical fan-fic where he appears simply to call Cersei a fool for doing what she's done policy wise.

Otherwise, I don't have much to say here. It's certainly satisfying to see someone so deserving of justice on the cusp of getting it. And, it's also satisfying to be able to see further than Cersei herself can, so that one of the few predictable things within these books is pretty plain.

Martin's set himself up for a Macbeth sort of thing, in that Cersei's valonqar in Maegi's prophecy isn't Tyrion but is Jaime because he was born seconds after her or some such.

And of course, Margeary's popularity with the people will help her to push forward as queen, while Cersei is left dangling until the very end when she gets swallowed up - unless she can jump out of the gaping maw of justice.

All the same, I wonder if this section of the book has been the most (or almost the most) predictable because all of the pieces on the metaphorical board are in view. In every other bit of Martin's intrigue what's been happening has been under much different circumstances. However, our familiarity with King's Landing and its major players, even after Cersei changes the council, makes it easier to see the playable moves and to figure out which is the most likely.

Of course, this could all end differently - if Jaime's golden hand gets replaced by a light sword made of Valyrian steel that he can mount on his stump, that is.

Brienne the Bumped Off?

I get the impression that this Brienne chapter, the previous one, and the next one, were written consecutively and then spread throughout the book.

They each follow on each other far too closely - at least, the first two do. She's at the mercy of Biter, and then she's up again and presented to Stoneheart, who condemns her to hang. But the trilogy is not yet finished.

Or at least, it may not be - perhaps the word that she screams as she hangs leads to mercy. Though that seems unlikely - but, if there's one thing to learn from Martin it's that the unlikely can't be discounted. How many times was Beric revived? Maybe that's how many feints Brienne will have in her fight with death. Maybe.

Otherwise, this chapter was pretty consistent with the others, though beyond the close following, this and the previous Brienne chapter have a similar feel to them. They both seem like their suffused with the dreamlike - though, that begins when Brienne starts her fight with Rorge and Biter, and continues to the point where she's hung.

Yet, the big thing here is that the sense of dreaminess is brought out so fully that the mention of dreams only serves to confirm it rather than create it. What creates it in the first place is the lack of logical connections between paragraphs as Brienne passes from consciousness to unconsciousness. And the reason why they manage to do so is that Martin follows a consistent pattern of paragraphing, not necessarily using topic sentences and that level of organization, but one that is very sequential.

Thus, when that sequence is broken it suggests that there's a little more going on than usual.

Getting More Mya

So, the stuff with Sansa. It's been alright, but I've not really been that moved by it.

It's more of the Dornish intrigue, but with one of the original "main characters" - the Starks - thrown in. Of course, there's also Littlefinger, but my impression is that this plot arc is still in its infancy.

Nothing seems to work quite right for anyone in Martin's world, so even Baelish's schemes are sure to be upended one way or another. But even if they aren't, there's still no sense of urgency about this plot arc. Perhaps that's a credit to the characterization of Baelish as such a weaselly schemer, or to the overall atmosphere of the chapters as things told from the perspective of someone out of her element.

However, I definitely appreciate Mya Stone's playing a bit more of a role in things, though the way that Martin's characters in this series seem to have nothing but a revolving door between them and death, it's hard to say whether or not she'll play some further role in the series or simply be the one who ferries people around the mountain.

This chapter also does do something that every other chapter fails to - it reminds us all that winter is slowly beginning. It's not the focus of this chapter by any means, but it's definitely a large part of it, even if it's only mentioned in passing and indirectly. It works as an undercurrent sort of reminder that the natural world is as much a foe as a rival house or claimant to the iron throne.

Describing Dorne

Arianne's latest chapter in A Feast for Crows was typical of the chapters in Dorne. There's a kind of thin quality to them, the same sort of quality that a painting of a desert landscape has. There are some settlements here and there and some vegetation here and there, but the whole comes together to represent sparsity.

Yet, Martin uses this sparsity to get across the atmosphere of secrets under which Arianne lives, especially during her time in the tower after she and her band were found out while playing out their plot with Myrcella.

Of course, it's also crazy that Viserys was promised to Arianne, and that would have driven the last of the Targaryeans back into Westeros. But even Viserys didn't know about the match, apparently - which suggests to me that Martin might have been discovery writing earlier books. Hell, maybe he still is discovery writing the series, using what's come before as a sort of scaffolding for what comes next. 

Whatever the case with Martin's writing process, the outcome is definitely something to observe. Plus, it's refreshing to go through a chapter in which there aren't too many "handsome women" - every author has a phrase or two that they overuse, and this seems to be Martin's. At least, in Jaime's chapters. Though that phrase's overuse could also just be a matter of Jaime's disposition at this point in the series.

At any rate, the atmosphere of secrets with which Martin covers Dorne in this book is perfect. It makes it clear that there are things, important things, happening there, and it really does a lot to bring out a sense of the truth of these secrets.

Plus, this atmosphere makes the reveal at the end of the chapter really effective.

Cersei and Taena

So I've just finished reading the Cersei chapter in which she tries to be Robert to Lady Merryweather. 

Damn, is it effective in bringing out the bitch in Cersei, but also in bringing out her desperation to defeat and un-man all of the...well, men, of her past.

I mean, when Martin compares her finger banging Taena to a boar goring her when she screams during orgasm, it's incredibly effective. Not because he goes into graphic detail, but, because like sex itself, he builds up to it and makes it possible to view that single sentence about the boar (its own paragraph) as the scene's own final climax.

How does he do this? With some simple foreshadowing earlier in the chapter, and then the gradual easing into it when Cersei lightly cups Taena's breast before toying with her nipple. That's all it takes. He plants the idea, waters it, and then lets it grow into the line about the boar and Taena's scream of pleasure.

Of course, there's also the matter of Cersei's reflecting on Robert's own wine-soaked adventures in bed that builds the psychological impact of the line and the final scene of the chapter in general. And that's something that's been brewing for a while along Cersei's character arc.

Plus, the way she reflects on how easy it was to get Robert off puts a really creepy spin on the bonus of swallowing. Just saying.

Food For Thought

So, I was reading while waiting for lunch at a take out place the other day. I managed to get in about five pages in the fifteen minutes it took for my fish and chips to come up. And, although it's something that I came up with a little later in the day, reading during that wait shook something loose.

The epic fantasy series that I read before "A Song of Ice and Fire" - "The Sword of Truth" - was really big on dialogue.

I mean, all epic fantasy stories are big on dialogue, but unless I'm remembering those books in an off way (watching Legend of the Seeker perhaps has thrown me), much of the character, plot, and thematic exposition was had in dialogue. In "A Song of Ice and Fire," these things are treated much differently. 

Rather than using dialogue, much of Martin's exposition is done through characters' reflection and the narrative bits and bites that expand upon characters' dialogue. This might just be a small thing to notice, and something quite inconsequential, but let's see what such a difference could mean.

"The Sword of Truth" series was super popular in the around the turn of the millennium.

It topped the charts, it (eventually) got its own TV series, it was the fantasy series that everyone was reading.

Now the same can be said about "A Song of Ice and Fire."

Setting aside these series' other differences, I wonder if the different ways in which these two series tell their stories and build their worlds is reflective of a shift in tastes or in world view in general.

Are readers today more interested in people as their connections to others in their own lives become more and more shallow? Are we just not interested in talking as much as we once were, and now prefer to think? Or has "A Song of Ice and Fire" only taken off in recent years (despite having started in the 1990s) because its TV show has much higher production values than The Legend of the Seeker did?

Of course, the simple answer to all this could be that "A Song of Ice and Fire" is just a better series, but that's the easy way out. What do you think accounts for this difference in what's popular in fantasy lit? Leave your thoughts in the comments!

Off to a Feast of a Start

Originally, I saw this book, A Feast for Crows, in a Chapters well before I was back on the fantasy-reading wagon. This sighting places it before my time teaching abroad, since I was able to find a copy of A Clash of Kings in the ever-excellent "What the Book" in the Itaewon neighbourhood of Seoul. 

After having read the first three books and about 1/3 of the fourth, one of the things that strikes me about Martin's writing style is the way in which he describes things. People's features, and the physical features of locales are often described with the sketchiest of notes. The composition of a room is mentioned, or the colour of a person's hair or eyes, but little else comes up. I find this interesting because it follows quite nicely the advice of Canadian author Thomas King: trust your reader.

Unlike other major works (Tolkien springs to mind immediately), Martin spares us long explanations of his settings' finer details or the features of a character's body or face. Unless they're important to the person's character.

It's probably fairly obvious, but that's what the engine in Martin's Ferrari of a series is: character. And, unsurprisingly then, everything he writes is in service of the characters.

Yes, his is an intricate plot involving many different simultaneous threads. But any level of plot complexity can just be expressed in a few sentences in an outline (or at least boiled down to such from an author's rambling notes; hence the possibility of creating "plot summaries").

But in the car that is "A Song of Ice and Fire," plot is at best the wheels. Almost all of the books' energy is devoted to their characters, making them as real as is possible for fictional characters. And Martin's not shy about exploiting his way with character: especially since so many more are used as perspective characters in A Feast for Crows.

Plus, when you care about characters as much as you care about Martin's characters their inevitable deaths are all the more potent.