Book Review: A Feast for Crows by George R. R. Martin

In the fourth installment of his A Song of Ice and Fire series, George R. R. Martin veers from his juggernaut of a fantastic story, slowing down to pick up the pieces left over from A Storm of Swords. Here, with only a select cast of his trademark and ever-expanding (and sometimes murderously contracting) pageant of rich point-of-view characters, Martin crafts a novel-length transition piece. While it disappoints in comparison to the previous three outstanding novels, which are among the finest, most entertaining fantasy novels written in decades, the novel maintains Martin’s excellent writing, captivating characters, and fascinating situations. The book offers some insight on how A Song of Ice and Fire can capture the crown of the best fantasy epic of the modern day.

While most fans know the history of A Feast for Crows’ publication and the long wait for fifth book, A Dance With Dragons, here’s a quick summary. In 2005, Martin published A Feast for Crows with a note indicating that it was only part of text meant to be a huge fourth novel. So, he split the text in two, placing some of his point-of-view characters in this book, and the remainder in a fifth book. Fans have spent years since in sometimes impatient furor demanding the “other half” of the tome (it arrives this summer, July 12, 2011), replete with fan favorite (mine included) characters Tyrion and Jon Snow, among others.

This split structure reveals itself in the novel’s story. Unlike the previous novels, here the multi-character story is flatter, the build up less climactic and epic. A Feast for Crows opens with Westeros a ruin in the thralls of war. The landscape is apocalyptic. Winter is coming. The lands are muddy wastes, decorated with hanged soldiers. Packs of wolves and outlaws haunt the land, and the common folk suffer terribly.

That theme is more present than ever. Martin’s previous books squeezed tension between the nobles of the game of thrones and the commoners. Here, we see devastation, dismemberment, horrible cruelty, rape, torture and worse inflicted on those poor bastards not lucky enough to be born in a noble house. And, yet, every single point-of-view character has some kind of noble lineage or direct link to high nobility. True, some – like Arya – are thrust into commoner roles, seeing through their own eyes the sometimes ugly, sometimes profound, and nearly always suffering lot of commoners. Martin manages to draw out our egalitarian sense of pity for these folk, while still stoking our root-for-the-underdog sense of heroism for the noble-born good guys – like Brienne or Samwell Tarly (notably, both “slum it” with hapless commoner companions).

At the center of the book are those lascivious, leonine Lannister twins, Cersei and Jaime. Both feature prominently in the book, particularly Cersei, whose chapters outnumber those of all other point-of-view characters in the book. She serves ably, maddeningly as antagonist.

The focus on those twins, who spend the half the novel in the same locale, dampen Martin’s ability to reveal a fantastically realized world in Westeros and the lands across the sea. While their events ultimately prove interesting, the build is slow. What’s more compelling is Martin’s strength as a character transformer. He’s at his best showing detail by detail how Cersei spirals out of control and Jaime distancing himself from her and gaining back some of his own self.

Through them, we see key events, like the siege of Dragonstone, but Martin reveals these from afar, after-the-fact. Unlike, say, the battle at King’s Landing or the Red Wedding in previous books, we don’t even a point-of-view character present for their own part in the action. The “off-stage” effect feels less powerful than those tense scenes of pinpoint action in previous books that Martin then follows with subsequent chapters and perspective. The mix is genius drama in A Storm of Swords. Here, it’s quieter.

Tales of the Viking-like Iron Men, who finally unite and throw their own hat in the ring for the game of thrones by invading the mainland, seem to dwindle as the book progresses. Point-of-view chapters from varying Greyjoy family members wander and ultimately fizzle, leaving this reader uncertain why Martin bothered. It seems as though he’s experimenting, then gives up the game there.

The star of the book is Brienne, the ugly lady warrior knight. In her search for Sansa Stark, she faces the toughest struggles and the book’s only real, exciting action. With a motley crew of unwanted companions wandering the apocalyptic landscape, she’s heroic, driven, and at her best when Martin whispers, and sometimes reveals her vulnerabilities. In Brienne, fans of the series find a noble hero worth cheering for opposite the cynical villainy of Cersei and her cohorts.

The beloved Starks aren’t wholly absent. Sansa and Arya prolong their separate lives as refugees with hidden identities. Their chapters, also, are too flat, feeling more of the same from their chapters in previous books. And, we get a glimpse of Jon Snow through Samwell Tarly, who then ventures out on his own for a wandering, slightly confused trek to the south.

All told, the chapters do indeed build to a compelling ending, though some are whopping cliff hangers. Martin’s writing is solid, though I will say his affectation of describing clothing and medieval foodstuffs reveals one hell of a Renaissance faire complex! That’s my good-natured rubbing, as the novel held up surprisingly well for me given all the flak it received from personal friends and online commentary. It was enough to confirm that Martin will continue writing fantasy I’m thrilled to read.

A Feast for Crows: B+

Spring break, with pirates

I spent the week on vacation with my family. We drove to Denver to stay with my wife's sister and enjoy the tourist attractions. Among those was the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, where they had a special touring exhibit, Real Pirates! The exhibit was wonderful, and inspiring for my current writing project.

The exhibit featured artifacts from the Whydah, a slave galley turned pirate ship by "Black Sam" Bellamy in the golden age of piracy. The ship wrecked off the coast of Cape Cod in 1717 during a storm. Barry Clifford located the wreck in the 80s, and it's now touring the nation in various museums. The exhibit displays the usual stuff -- cannonballs, parts of muskets, various tools and utensils, and an impressive display of real pirate treasure in the form of hundreds (thousands?) of silver coins. It also had many interesting insights into the make-up of pirate crews (including many black and Native American sailors, their mentality about going "on the account" (a.k.a. signing on to be a pirate), their almost dandy style, and the cultural mess of the triangular slave trade.

I tried to sketch down some notes about it all, but managed to lose the notes on my smart phone. Still, it was inspiring stuff, and I managed to write down much in my journal later on.

Canada and I decided to cut our trip a bit short and drive back home late Thursday night. She asked about my note taking and what I was up to with this writing thing. I explained it all to her, my idea for a fantastical novel of sky pirates. She knew I had been up to something, and I think is more than a little pleased I'm finally getting around to that writing thing she's always wanted me to do. She has no idea how I needed to get all that out from the echoes of my head.

I spent a lot of time this weekend doing more research and sketching out more ideas, names, second-world geography. Oh, true, it's not the first time I've dived into a creative project like this, and often those ideas sit idle, or used in ways other than fiction writing. But, I have an inkling -- only that so far -- that I'm finally getting myself into a strange routine to see this through.

Mark Charan Newton explains writing styles and world building

UK author Mark Charan Newton writes one hell of a blog. (He also writes fantasy novels -- check out Legends of the Red Sun series). Two recent posts from  him dive in to writing styles and second world building. He talks about his approach to both as a writer, but also acknowledges other techniques. And, he praises Scrivener software, which I've checked out as a demo for PC. It's a powerful writing tool that remains straightforward to use and learn.

Check out both posts:

Planning Arrangements - here he talks about narrative structure and writing.

Building Secondary Worlds - Mark breaks down the components of imaginary places he writes about, from names of characters to the color of the buildings they inhabit. Fascinating stuff.

Ebook Review: Brave New Worlds edited by John Joseph Adams

While we're living in interesting times, we might as well enjoy the show. Brave New Worlds is a great companion to an increasingly acrimonious and digital world. Editor John Joseph Adams  has assembled a relevant anthology of dystopian short fiction for the 21st century.

The anthology assembles dystopian classics along side more contemporary works. Included is Harlan Ellison's classic, "Repent, Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman among other notable stories from notable speculative fiction authors like Ursula Le Guin and Robert Silverberg. Here, too, are contemporary writers, like rising star Paolo Bacigalupi.

(NOTE: The ebook edition does not include three classics that appear in the print edition. Those are: The Minority Report by Philip K. Dick, Billennium by J. G. Ballard, and Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. These are literary greats, in my view, but as this review is from the ebook, I don't include those works here except to say that Harrison Bergeron is one of those "everyone reads it in high school" stories. I have no doubt these improve the already wonderful anthology.)

Unsurprisingly, the book offers a panoply of dystopias, and only a few of the expected Big  Brother variety. Adams' has edited here a thoughtful variation on theme, a Noah's Ark of awful places we never want to visit. Fortunately, most of them we want to read. Taken as a whole, the collection is superb. At their best, the stories are profoundly troubling and timeless. Sadly, a few -- blissfully only a very few -- are political screeds that can't carry the torch of the classic and contemporary greats within.

There are 30 stories in Brave New Worlds ebook edition (33 in print). Rather than comment on all, I'll settle for highlighting ones I thought were outstanding as well as a couple that I thought stumbled:

The Best

Three stories in this collection stood out:

The Funeral by Kate Wilhelm is a wonderfully cryptic narrative told through the eyes of a girl in an impossibly strict (and violent) school for girls. The story is beautifully constructed and leaves readers piecing together three generations of totalitarian education. It's a haunting, fascinating work.

The aforementioned "Repent, Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman by Harlan Ellison is one of the funniest black humor stories I've ever read. It deserves its already established reputation as a classic of science fiction, and it lays bare the absurdity of those who know what's best for you.

Finally, Cory Doctorow's The Things that Make Me Weak and Strange Get Engineered Away is a well-realized, well-crafted work. It's one of the longest in the collection for good reason. Doctorow crafts an elaborate landscape for a near-future monk of the digital age who unravels the paradox of his dystopian masters.

The Rest

Other superbly written stories in the collection include:

O Happy Day! by Geoff Ryman is by far the most disturbing work in the anthology. I see other reviewers have wide-ranging reactions for this one, but I found it superb. (Pop Squad by Paolo Bacigalupi runs a distant second on the disturbing scale, and his Blade Runner-esque tale is also excellent.)

Amaryllis by Carrie Vaughn is almost sweet, despite knowing all along that the powers that be force people into awful decisions about procreation.

The Lunatics by Kim Stanley Robinson along with Jordan's Waterhammer by Joe Mastroianni, strike me as companion tells of enslaved miners breaking over inhumane circumstances to face oblivion. The tales are both fascinating viewpoints of those who lack full awareness of their awful situation, but nevertheless realize  the injustice.

All told, the remaining stories are worth reading. I found about three works that read more as political posturing than accessible narratives, but I wager that any reader could say the same of nearly any thought-provoking fiction.

Brave New Worlds: A-