GEORGE R.R. MARTIN

It's high time we talk about GEORGE R.R. MARTIN, don't you think? He's books have been widely acclaimed, both in Spain and overseas, as has the TV series, Game of Thrones. What about you, are you fans?

Here's an extract from a review from the New York Times:

Martin’s books are essentially the War of the Roses with magic, set largely in a land called Westeros. They are written in the third person, but each chapter takes the point of view of a single character, with several characters recurring throughout. Of particular importance are noble families like the Starks (good guys), the Targaryens (at least one good guy, or girl), the Lannisters (conniving), the Greyjoys (mostly conniving), the Baratheons (mixed bag), the Tyrells (unclear) and the Martells (ditto), most of whom are feverishly endeavoring to advance their ambitions and ruin their enemies, preferably unto death. But as we discover, these people should be paying less attention to their own squabbling and more attention to the nearly deserted northern reaches of the kingdom. Because beyond “The Wall,” the giant construction of ice and stone that marks Westeros’s border, a race of creatures called “the Others” is preparing to . . . well, it’s not clear yet, but it seems to involve turning people into zombies, which is almost worse than turning them into Lannisters.

Martin possesses two virtues in abundance. First, he’s unapologetically coldblooded. Westeros is a dangerous place governed by the whims of men, not the rule of law, and the first novel in his series is famous for (spoilers follow!) dispatching a thoroughly admirable major character with whom readers have been identifying for most of the book. The killing is shocking, and it’s done on the impulse of a temporarily empowered child. (The same child is poisoned two books later, so hey, all’s well that ends well.) This tendency is less in evidence in “A Dance With Dragons” — in fact, some characters are beginning to seem charmed — but at least one moment in the book will have readers saying, “No way did that just happen.”

Martin’s second virtue is a nearly supernatural gift for storytelling. All of his hundreds of characters have grace notes of history and personality that advance a plot line. Every town has an elaborately recalled series of triumphs and troubles. Moreover, historical asides are inseparable from the books’ larger narratives, so as you’re propelled through the story, the sensation is like riding a wave that’s somehow moving away from shore, with the water beneath you growing deeper and more shadowed as your speed increases. 

Read the whole article here.