Magic Zombies . . . Or, First Impressions of Game of Thrones

As some of you are aware, I've tried to read G.R.R Martin's Game of Thrones more than a couple times.  This attempt marks my fifth go at it.  I've already resolved that I will finish the first book.  I've read Twilight to try to figure out just why it was so popular.  I read Fifty Shades of Grey.  I want to know why people enjoy some of these pieces of fiction.  With Game of Thrones, at least, the storytelling is compelling, the writing is top-notch (-ish, which I'll get to) and everything about it should lead me to love it.  All of my friends essentially swear by it.  They love it.  But something about it has never really grabbed hold of me.

I've read through the first hundred or so pages a couple times.  More often, I stop about the end of the first Daenerys perspective.  I suspect that what most people find innovative about Martin's work is exactly what puts me off.  The quick perspective changes and lack of concrete physical detail feels not only choppy, but fails to embed me in the world in a compelling way.  Sometimes, we talk about the learning curve of a book; how difficult the world, or magic-system, is learn.  In Martin's book, I suspect, the world is not that different from our own.  Based on the War of the Roses, Martin has lifted English history whole-cloth and dropped fantasy elements into it.  As such, I don't need a lot of time to learn this world.  Yes, some of the names are different, but not so different that I can't figure out what's going on.

**SPOILERS AHEAD**

More to the point, though, I think this book is too much like real life.  I want my fantasy to be escapist.  I don't want children to fall from roofs; I don't want to see a child sold by her brother as a sex slave in his machinations to reclaim power; I don't want to see a brother and sister get it on.  All these things are facets of the "real" world.  They aren't necessarily what I want to read in my fiction.

That being said, a lot of people really do love these books, so lets get into my impressions of the first couple chapters.

Prologue:  Kind of an interesting premise.  Wandering through the snow, jawing about how ominous it all feels.  Then zombies show up.  Yeah, I know that zombies weren't a big deal in 1996, when this was originally written and perhaps it isn't fair to judge Martin on current fads.  But I can't help wonder why we need zombies in the first go-round.  There are also a couple point-of-view slips where he slips from third to second person.  They're minor but telling.  Also, when one character withdraws his black gloved hand from his wound, we're told that it gleams red.  I'm not sure about anyone else's blood, but mine usually isn't so obvious against a black background.  Another minor thing, but it irritates me already. 

Bran: The first chapter of the narrative actually ties into the prologue, in which the man whose death we did not see in the prologue is executed.  We're left to assume that it's the same man, and maybe Martin will fill this in for me later, but with only minor physical details to draw that assumption, I'm left uncertain.  That uncertainty left me feeling ambivalent about the whole thing.  Oh, and look, wolf puppies, one (conveniently) for each of the children.  Except this isn't any wolf, it's a direwolf, which is bigger and badder and somehow direr than regular wolves.  Also, it's a bad omen.  Okay.  Interesting dynamic between the bastard kid and the "trueborn" children of Ned Stark (who I'm to assume is going to be our protagonist). 

Catelyn: The best writing so far.  The dichotomy between the (pardon the pun) starkness of the north and the vibrancy of the south is telling.  Moreover, it begins an interesting discussion about the moral certainty of the north (black and white) between the shifting morality of the south (rainbow hued) demonstrates a sectional clash that I hope will be explored later.  Regardless, it presents a picture of a world already rife with division.  It's also a monotone world; so far, everything has been either, black, white (or some variant of "icy") or red.  We know Martin can paint a picture--later he describes ivy in which "[moonlight] painted the leaves in shades of bone and silver . . . "--so his reliance upon primary colors is either intentional or just lazy. 

Daenerys: The (very) young sister of the last Prince of Westeros, whose sexuality is to be sold to secure money and a foreign army.  This isn't the first time in history that a woman has been used against her will: "A man should be able to do as he likes with his own chattel."  Martin isn't out to make a historical argument.  But I wonder why it's important that Daenerys be portrayed as a girl barely into adolescence.  Is this the gritty reality we have to confront in this fantasy epic? 

Musings of feminist theory aside, Martin lapses into primary color descriptions, using instance of red, yellow and green without hue.  Except for the color of the two young noble's eyes (and Daenerys's dress) everything is flat and without gradation.  

So far, I'm enjoying the book a little more than I have previously.  I think the dichotomy between the monotones of the world itself and the subtle shades of moral gray already present is a fascinating take on a fantasy epic.  I'll let you know how it's going as I read more.

Want to let me know what you think about Westeros and the Game of Thrones?  Put them in the comments.  But, please, no spoilers; this is my first go-round.