‘A Game of Thrones’
Mystical lands filled with dragons and monsters. Dramatic power plays by families intent on destroying one another. Forbidden romances, raging battles and endless adventures — all topped off with a dash of wit and a sprinkle of dry humor.
Welcome to the complicated plot line of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of
Ice and Fire series. Whether discussing the book and the rest of the literary series or the subsequent Game of
Thrones television series, the concept’s popularity is unquestioned.
As a child, I read everything, but nestled deep in my heart was a place reserved for magic and adventure — the Harry Potter books, The Lord of the
Rings books. I wanted to have special powers and ride broomsticks. I wanted to go on quests and battle evil. Doesn’t every kid want to have the chance to be a hero?
These books were my childhood. They created, in my mind, a structure for what fantasy should look like. And as my maturing brain began to understand the complexities of the world, I so wanted to separate the differences between fantasy and reality.
Comparatively, A Game of Thrones sounded dark. It sounded like they were taking away any humor from my favorite fantasy novels and shifting the focus from the magic and adventure to the dry, deceiving world of politics. Plus, it appeared way too long. Who has time for an entire series where each book is between 500 and 1,000 pages?
Still, I was intrigued. The plot line twists and turns, with each chapter starring the perspective of a different character. It sounded so complicated and interesting, and one day, when I was bored over Christmas vacation, I rebelled against my own nature and downloaded the book onto my Kindle. I got sucked in. All of it grabbed me. The uncomfortable, explicit, forbidden romances. The drama and power and destruction. The wars and adventures. The magic. The monsters. All of it suddenly came to life in my head. I followed the stories of each character in each family as they struggled to survive. I got attached to some and hated others. I loved watching the characters develop.
And so I read about the Starks and the Lannisters and the constant power struggle between a number of families vying for control of the seven kingdoms. I became attached to Daenerys, the Mother of Dragons, and her winged babies. I rooted for the survival of the Stark kids. I laughed at the constant, ridiculous drama of the Lannisters.
The books are in fact quite long, and I still haven’t finished the series. But when I pick one back up and immediately pick up the plot line, I find myself on the the edge of my seat, waiting to see where each strand of George R.R. Martin’s complicated web of plots leads.