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A Storm of Swords: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book Three Paperback – Illustrated, May 28, 2002
George R. R. Martin
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“I always expect the best from George R. R. Martin, and he always delivers.”—Robert Jordan
From the Inside Flap
A Storm of Swords
Of the five contenders for power, one is dead, another in disfavor, and still the wars rage as violently as ever, as alliances are made and broken. Joffrey, of House Lannister, sits on the Iron Throne, the uneasy ruler of the land of the Seven Kingdoms. His most bitter rival, Lord Stannis, stands defeated and disgraced, the victim of the jealous sorceress who holds him in her evil thrall. But young Robb, of House Stark, still rules the North from the fortress of Riverrun. Robb plots against his despised Lannister enemies, even as they hold his sister hostage at King's Landing, the seat of the Iron Throne. Meanwhile, making her way across a blood-drenched continent is the exiled queen, Daenerys, mistress of the only three dragons still left in the world....
But as opposing forces maneuver for the final titanic showdown, an army of barbaric wildlings arrives from the outermost line of civilization. In their vanguard is a horde of mythical Others--a supernatural army of the living dead whose animated corpses are unstoppable. As the future of the land hangs in the balance, no one will rest until the Seven Kingdoms have exploded in a veritable storm of swords. . .
From the Back Cover
A Storm of Swords
Of the five contenders for power, one is dead, another in disfavor, and still the wars rage as violently as ever, as alliances are made and broken. Joffrey, of House Lannister, sits on the Iron Throne, the uneasy ruler of the land of the Seven Kingdoms. His most bitter rival, Lord Stannis, stands defeated and disgraced, the victim of the jealous sorceress who holds him in her evil thrall. But young Robb, of House Stark, still rules the North from the fortress of Riverrun. Robb plots against his despised Lannister enemies, even as they hold his sister hostage at King's Landing, the seat of the Iron Throne. Meanwhile, making her way across a blood-drenched continent is the exiled queen, Daenerys, mistress of the only three dragons still left in the world....
But as opposing forces maneuver for the final titanic showdown, an army of barbaric wildlings arrives from the outermost line of civilization. In their vanguard is a horde of mythical Others--a supernatural army of the living dead whose animated corpses are unstoppable. As the future of the land hangs in the balance, no one will rest until the Seven Kingdoms have exploded in averitable storm of swords. . .
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.
The big black bitch had taken one sniff at the bear tracks, backed off, and skulked back to the pack with her tail between her legs. The dogs huddled together miserably on the riverbank as the wind snapped at them. Chett felt it too, biting through his layers of black wool and boiled leather. It was too bloody cold for man or beast, but here they were. His mouth twisted, and he could almost feel the boils that covered his cheeks and neck growing red and angry. I should be safe back at the Wall, tending the bloody ravens and making fires for old Maester Aemon. It was the bastard Jon Snow who had taken that from him, him and his fat friend Sam Tarly. It was their fault he was here, freezing his bloody balls off with a pack of hounds deep in the haunted forest.
"Seven hells.” He gave the leashes a hard yank to get the dogs' attention. "Track, you bastards. That's a bear print. You want some meat or no? Find!" But the hounds only huddled closer, whining. Chett snapped his short lash above their heads, and the black bitch snarled at him. "Dog meat would taste as good as bear," he wamed her, his breath frosting with every word.
Lark the Sisterman stood with his arms crossed over his chest ana m~ hands tucked up into his armpits. He wore black wool gloves, but he was always complaining how his fingers were frozen. "It's too bloody cold to hunt,'' he said. "Bugger this bear, he's not worth freezing over."
We can’t go back emptyhand, Lark," rumbled Small Paul through the brown whiskers that covered most of his face. "The Lord Commander wouldn’t like that.” There was ice under the big man’s squashed pug nose, where his snot had frozen. A huge hand in a thick fur glove clenched tight around the shaft of a spear.
"Bugger that Old Bear too," said the Sistemman, a thin man with sharp features and nervous eyes. "Mormont will be dead before daybreak, remember? Who cares what he likes?"
Small Paul blinked his black little eyes. Maybe he had forgotten, Chett thought; he was stupid enough to forget most anything. "Why do we have to kill the Old Bear? Why don't we just go off and let him be?"
"You think he'll let us be?" said Lark. "He'll hunt us down. You want to be hunted, you great muttonhead?"
"No," said Small Paul. "I don't want that. I don't."
"So you'll kill him?" said Lark.
"Yes." The huge man stamped the butt of his spear on the frozen riverbank. "I will. He shouldn't hunt us."
The Sisterman took his hands from his ammpits and tumed to Chett. "We need to kill all the officers, I say."
Chett was sick of hearing it. "We been over this. The Old Bear dies, and Blane from the Shadow Tower. Grubbs and Aethan as well, their ill luck for drawing the watch, Dywen and Bannen for their tracking, and Ser Piggy for the ravens. That's all. We kill them quiet, while they sleep. One scream and we're wormfood, every one of us." His boils were red with rage. "Just do your bit and see that your cousins do theirs. And Paul, try and remember, it's third watch, not second."
"Third watch," the big man said, through hair and frozen snot. "Me and Softfoot. I remember, Chett."
The moon would be black tonight, and they had jiggered the watches so as to have eight of their own standing sentry, with two more guarding the horses. It wasn't going to get much riper than that. Besides, the wildlings could be upon them any day now. Chett meant to be well away from here before that happened. He meant to live.
Three hundred sworn brothers of the Night's Watch had ridden north, two hundred from Castle Black and another hundred from the Shadow Tower. It was the biggest ranging in living memory, near a third of the Watch's strength. They meant to find Ben Stark, Ser Waymar Royce, and the other ran~.ers who'd gone missing, and discover why the wildlings were leaving their villages. Well, they were no closer to Stark and Royce than when they'd left the Wall, but they'd leamed where all the wildlings had gone - up into the icy heights of the godsforsaken Frostfangs. They could squat up there till the end of time and it wouldn't prick Chett's boils none.
But no. They were coming down. Down the Milkwater.
Chett raised his eyes and there it was. The river's stony banks were bearded by ice, lt’s pale milky waters flowing endlessly down out of the Frostfangs And now Mance Rayder and his wildlings were flowing down the same way. Thoren Smallwood had retumed in a lather three days past. While he was telling the Old Bear what his scouts had seen, his man Kedge Whiteye told the rest of them. "They're still well up the foothills, but they're coming," Kedge said, warming his hands over the fire. "Harma the Dogshead has the van, the poxy bitch. Goady crept up Dn her camp and saw her plain by the fire. That fool Tumberjon wanted to pick her off with an arrow, but Smallwood had better sense."
Chett spat. "How many were there, could you tell?"
"Many and more. Twenty, thirty thousand, we didn't stay to count. Hamma had five hundred in the van, every one ahorse.~'
The men around the fire exchanged uneasy looks. It was a rare thing to find even a dozen mounted wildlings, and five hundred . . .
"Smallwood sent Bannen and me wide around the van to catch a peek at the main body," Kedge went on. "There was no end of them. They're moving slow as a frozen river, four, five miles a day, but they don't look like they mean to go back to their villages neither. More'n half were women and children, and they were driving their animals before them, goats, sheep, even aurochs dragging sledges. They'd loaded up with bales of fur and sides of meat, cages of chickens, butter chums and spinning wheels, every damn thing they own. The mules and garrons was so heavy laden you'd think their backs would break. The women as well."
"And they follow the Milkwater?" Lark the Sisterman asked.
"I said so, didn't I?"
The Milkwater would take them past the Fist of the First Men, the ancient ringfort where the Night's Watch had made its camp. Any man with a thimble of sense could see that it was time to pull up stakes and fall back on the Wall. The Old Bear had strengthened the Fist with spikes and pits and caltrops, but against such a host all that was pointless. If they stayed here, they would be engulfed and overwhelmed.
And Thoren Smallwood wanted to attack. Sweet Donnel Hill was squire to Ser Mallador Locke, and the night before last Smallwood had come to Locke's tent. Ser Mallador had been of the same mind as old Ser Ottyn Wythers, urging a retreat on the Wall, but Smallwood wanted to convince him otherwise. "This King-beyond-the-Wall will never look for us so far north," Sweet Donnel reported him saying. "And this great host of his is a shambling horde, full of useless mouths who won't know what end of a sword to hold. One blow will take all the fight out of them and send them howling back to their hovels for another fifty years."
Three hundred against thirty thousand. Chett called that rank madness, and what was madder still was that Ser Mallador had been persuaded' and the two of them together were on the point of persuading the Old Bear. "If we wait too long, this chance may be lost, never to come again," Smallwood was saying to anyone who would listen. Against that, Ser Ottyn Wythers said, "We are the shield that guards the realms of men. You do not throw away your shield for no good purpose," but to that Thoren Smallwood said, "In a swordfight, a man's surest defense is the swift stroke that slays his foe, not cringing behind a shield."
Neither Smallwood nor Wythers had the command, though. Lord Mormont did, and Mommont was waiting for his other scouts, for Jarman Buckwell and the men who'd climbed the Giant's Stair, and for Qhorin Halfhand and Jon Snow, who'd gone to probe the Skirling Pass. Buckwell and the Halfhand were late in retuming, though. Dead, most like. Chett pictured Jon Snow lying blue and frozen on some bleak mountaintop with a wildling spear up his bastard's arse. The thought made him smile. I hope they killed his bloody wolf as well.
"There's no bear here," he decided abruptly. "Just an old print, that's all. Back to the Fist." The dogs almost yanked him off his feet, as eager to get back as he was. Maybe they thought they were going to get fed. Chett had to laugh. He hadn't fed them for three days now, to turn them mean and hungry. Tonight, before slipping off into the dark, he'd tum them loose among the horse lines, after Sweet Donnel Hill and Clubfoot Karl cut the tethers. They'll have snarling hounds and panicked horses all over the Fist, running through fires, jumping the ringwall, and trampling down tents. With all the confusion, it might be hours before anyone noticed that fourteen brothers were missing.
Lark had wanted to bring in twice that number, but what could you expect from some stupid fishbreath Sisterman? Whisper a word in the wrong ear and before you knew it you'd be short a head. No, fourteen was a good number, enough to do what needed doing but not so many that they couldn't keep the secret. Chett had recruited most of them himself. Small Paul was one of his; the strongest man on the Wall, even if he was slower than a dead snail. He'd once broken a wildling's back with a hug. They had Dirk as well, named for his favorite weapon, and the little grey man the brothers called Softfoot, who'd taped a hundred women in his youth, and liked to boast how none had never seen nor heard him until he shoved it up inside them.
The plan was Chett's. He was the clever one; he'd been steward to old Maester Aemon for four good years before that bastard Jon Snow had done him out so his job could be handed to his fat pig of a friend. When he killed Sam Tarly tonight, he planned to whisper, "Give my love to Lord Snow," right in his ear before he sliced Ser Piggy's throat open to let the blood come bubbling out through all those layers of suet. Chett knew the ravens, so he wouldn't have no trouble there, no more than he would with Tarly.
One touch of the knife and that craven would piss his pants and start blubbering for his life. Let him beg, it won't do him no good. After he opened his throat, he'd open the cages and shoo the birds away, so no messages reached the Wall. Softfoot and Small Pau1 would kill the Old Bear, Dirk would do Blane, and Lark and his cousins would silence Bannen and old Dywen, to keep them from sniffing after their trail. They'd been caching food for a fortnight, and Sweet Donne1 and Clubfoot Karl would have the horses ready. With Mormont dead, command would pass to Ser Ottyn Wythers, an old done man, and failing. He'll be running for the Wall before sundown, and he won't waste no men sending them after us neither.
The dogs pulled at him as they made their way through the trees. Chett could see the Fist punching its way up through the green. The day was so dark that the Old Bear had the torches lit, a great circle of them buming all along the ringwall that crowned the top of the steep stony hill. The three of them waded across a brook. The water was icy cold, and patches of ice were spreading across its surface. "I'm going to make for the coast," Lark the Sisterman confided. "Me and my cousins. We'll build us a boat, sail back home to the Sisters."
And at home they'll know you for deserters and lop off your fool heads, thought Chett. There was no leaving the Night's Watch, once you said your words. Anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms, they'd take you and kill you.
Ollo Lophand now, he was talking about sailing back to Tyrosh, where he claimed men didn't lose their hands for a bit of honest thievery, nor get sent off to freeze their life away for being found in bed with some knight~s wife. Chett had weighed going with him, but he didn't speak their wet girly tongue. And what could he do in Tyrosh? He had no trade to speak of, growing up in Hag's Mire. His father had spent his life grubbing in other men's fields and collecting leeches. He'd strip down bare but for a thick leather clout, and go wading in the murky waters. When he climbed out he'd be covered from nipple to ankle. Sometimes he made Chett help pull the leeches off. One had attached itself to his palm once, and he'd smashed it against a wall in revulsion. His father beat him bloody for that. The maesters bought the leeches at twelve-for-apenny.
Lark could go home if he liked, and the damn Tyroshi too, but not Chett. If he never saw Hag's Mire again, it would be too bloody soon. He had liked the look of Craster's Keep, himself. Craster lived high as a lord there, so why shouldn't he do the same? That would be a laugh. Chett the 1eechman’s son, a lord with a keep. His banner could be a dozen leeches on a field of pink. But why stop at lord? Maybe he should be a king.
Product details
- Publisher : Bantam (May 28, 2002)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 1008 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0553381709
- ISBN-13 : 978-0553381702
- Item Weight : 2.1 pounds
- Dimensions : 6.02 x 1.72 x 9.16 inches
-
Best Sellers Rank:
#29,492 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #566 in War & Military Action Fiction (Books)
- #817 in Fantasy Action & Adventure
- #855 in Sword & Sorcery Fantasy (Books)
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GRRM delivers a RARE series - a sophisticatedly written series - it is both mature and complex at every level, and manages to do so without tedium, but quite the opposite. I've found myself hardly able to bear moving to each successive chapter to follow a separate storyline or character due to the gripping story in the one I was reading. But as I switched gears to the next "nugget" in this grandly woven tale, I found myself equally enthralled by THAT storyline.
As far as the cast of characters - it is vast. And character development is sophisticated. You have a vast range of personalities, motivations, biases, vices, scheming, hurts, etc. You watch upon a stage where the marionette has directed their interplay so intricately it is a believable plotline that echoes real life as action and schemes between characters collide. And as time moves forward in the story you experience those characters exult in victory, seethe with hatred, quail in defeat, rage in frustrated schemes, and hope against hope. Not only that - but they grow with their experiences. Their motivations can at times be complex scheming or simple earthy passion (whether that be angry violence or lust or daydreaming). The stage is set with a great cast as well - both men and women each with their subtleties and unique persona. Not every woman is a damsel, just as not every man is a hero - which is fantastic.
As far as the politicking - it is multilayered. You have Lords and Kings vying for position, status, power, peace, justice, or vengeance. This through marriages, treaty, war, subterfuge, assassination, etc. You have the character level politicking where personal vices come into play whether that be noble or ignoble - rooted in either their sense of duty, selfishness, naiveté, or other. Its just so varied and rarely formulaic or repeatable.
I can't necessarily say there are plot twists in the traditional sense of the word (where one can almost feel the author shout 'got ya! - didn't see THAT coming eh?' to the dumbfounded reader). The machinations of each character in this vast stage - competing and colliding with one another's - and that ends up speaking for itself. The reader may cheer or curse depending on a particular turn of events, but that has more to do with the efforts of one party or another succeeding against all others. It's a dose of near-reality. Plans win and fail - and there isn't an overarching "blessed" subset of characters. It is extremely refreshing and entirely spellbinding.
As far as action, magic, and monsters. There is very little compared to what one would expect in the scifi fantasy paperback novels. There are clashes and contests. There are strange creatures and powers, yes. But this isn't your summer 80s Schwarzenegger/Stallone action flick. This is a sophisticated story that has such content in its proper place and not gratuitously. There is fighting but it's not center piece as a simpleton's hack and slash hero-save-princess-defeat-demonprince novel. Nor is this series meager on action. There is plenty - yes there's fighting, but there's also violence, there's action-y physical feats, there's sex. Sometimes it can be raw brutality, exposing the crueler and despicable side found in humanity (torture, rape, etc). GRRM doesn't have wizards bouncing around making things blow up like "Tim the Enchanter" nor do we have some wondrous creature at every turn. The reader will find that yes - magic and monsters do come on stage, but it's not the centerpiece, obviously.
The good vs evil hero's saga akin to Tolkien is great. One will find store shelves littered with lesser versions of that, and in much simpler format. GRRM is on an entirely different track - where multilayered politicking vies against the striving of characters good and bad. Wars, fights, loves, plots, etc - all go into a great tumbler. The protagonists (assumedly so because of their nobler aspirations) don't necessarily win. Plenty of characters whom the reader may come to empathize with may be frustrated (even killed). It's part of the reason why the series is so exciting to read - you are never assured of how things will turn out.
As for myself - I am an eclectic reader. I've enjoyed writings from Hawthorne, Nordic sagas, Homer's Iliad, Shakespeare, Cervantez (Don Quixote), Jane Austin, Dickens, Tolkien, Chaucer, Vonnegut, Alexander Dumas, Michael Moorcock, Victor Hugo, to LRHubbard, etc.
If you've enjoyed any of the authors as such listed above, TRY this series. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised. It is very well written.
It wouldn't be possible to adequately sum up everything that happens in this book in an appropriately succinct manner, so I'll just give a brief, bare-bones overview. Westeros is still caught up in the war raging for the Iron Throne. With five claimants competing to rule the Seven Kingdoms, it doesn't look like there's an end in sight for the violence and destruction. Things are also brewing in the North, where the Wildlings beyond are organizing an attack to break through the Wall, overwhelm the severely undermanned Night's Watch, and invade. Meanwhile, in the East, Daenerys continues to amass resources to aid in her plans to attack for the Throne. She moves through the cities of Slaver's Bay, gaining support and exercising her growing authority as both the Khaleesi and the Mother of Dragons.
I'll start by addressing perhaps the most obvious characteristic of "A Storm of Swords:" it's huge. Granted, if you downloaded it for your Kindle like I did, the monstrous size of the novel might not be as immediately striking, but you'll undoubtedly notice pretty quickly that it's over a thousand pages long. Books this long tend to be one of two things: unnecessarily descriptive with plenty of filler to pad out the pages or complex with an intricately layered story that fills the pages with content. I'm pleased to say that this book is definitely the latter of the two possibilities. It would perhaps be feared that the middle book of a lengthy series, especially one with a humongous page count, would be repetitive and full of fluff and padding, serving only to lengthen the series and sell more books. Again, that simply isn't the case with "A Storm of Swords." The plot doesn't stall at all; in fact, every chapter moves the story forward and works to develop the overall plot. The story is exciting with so many power players devising and implementing their own schemes as well as the war raging over the Iron Throne. Martin has a lot to say about his world, which makes for a fascinating story and guarantees that none of the thousand-and-some-odd pages are boring. With the pace being consistent throughout the novel, you'll be flipping through pages with the desperate need to know what happens next to your favourite character or faction. For the first time I can recall, I finished a thousand plus page novel thinking that it wasn't long enough! Martin's story is so enthralling, unique, and captivating that you'll want more than even a book this long can offer.
I'll also note that the story is far from predictable. I've mostly given up trying to guess what will happen because the actual events typically far exceed my predictions. I'll probably end up mentioning this in every "Song of Ice and Fire" review, but I ended up taking a bit of a break from fantasy due to being frustrated with the same plots and tired clichés that seemed to crop up in every book. Martin has actually managed to write not only a unique fantasy novel, but a series that stands above many others simply because he strays from the commonly tread path. Pretty much anything can happen to anyone; good characters aren't given immunity and bad characters aren't doomed to death (and really, calling characters good and bad isn't completely accurate since most are various shades of grey). The plot twists and turns like crazy, but it's handled deftly and the author clearly knows where he's going, putting the reader an exciting ride and a gamut of emotions. And just when you think you've got it figured out, something comes up that throws your predictions out the window. It's a nice change from being able to guess everything before it happens, as tends to be the case with other books in the genre.
It's well established by this point that Martin doesn't shy away from the violence of war...and "A Storm of Swords" practically has blood dripping from its pages. With the war for the Iron Throne in full swing, the death count in this book is high. The horrors of battle are portrayed in all their gritty glory; these aren't nice people and they don't do nice things. As I've mentioned in other reviews, neither the violence nor the sex present comes off as gratuitous (for the most part), but instead works to flesh out Martin's world and reinforce the concept that no one is safe. Yes, this is the book with the Red Wedding. There are a couple weddings that take place, so it's not immediately obvious which one will be THE wedding if you haven't already been informed. And yes, some well-loved characters meet their end in this bloodbath, families betray one another, alliances change...all the jazz that one can expect from such an event. There are also other grisly surprises that determine the fate of some, well, not as well-loved characters. In the East, Daenerys is faced with the brutality of slavery and the effects of anarchy as she conquers the Slave Cities, and it's not pretty. If you were bothered by the dark content of the two previous books, you probably shouldn't read this one because the author has really upped his game in that aspect. Personally, I'm of the opinion that the grittiness adds authenticity to the world, but I've always preferred a darker, more realistic setting.
While I usually don't find the sex and violence in these books to be gratuitous, there is one instance of it that I'll have to complain about; and weirdly enough, it's probably one of the more "normal" sexual relationships we see in the book: Jon and Ygritte. I totally get the significance of Jon breaking his vows with Ygritte, both in terms of his background as a bastard and as a member of the Night's Watch, and I enjoyed seeing him struggle with his conflicting emotions on the matter. However, I got a little tired of reading about them getting it on in detail multiple times every night. Sure, a few times is fine to give us an idea of Jon's situation, but the frequency came off as really unnecessary. Of all the gruesome things one could complain about in this novels, that's what stuck out to me as being gratuitous and over the top...who'd have thought?
The characters just get better and better with each book. That's not to say they necessarily become better people (in the brutal world of Westeros, that almost never seems to happen), but they definitely grow and become more intriguing with each installment. With so many storylines and characters, it would be easy to shove a couple off to the side, but, again, Martin seems to have this under control and every character is more than adequately fleshed out. The changing point of view in each chapter works well because it ensures that every story and every character continues to move forward. Each chapter, and therefore each point of view, is in some way significant; I never finished a chapter wondering what the point of it was or what it added to the story. The characters continue to be portrayed in shades of grey, each one unique and changing and none of them fall into the typical archetypes. You'll be frustrated with some and cheer on others and, as I mentioned earlier, some well-loved characters (and some that we love to hate) meet their ends in "A Storm of Swords." You never know what the characters are going to throw at you (or at each other, as the case often is) or who's going to make it out alive...and in a book as brutal as this one, that certainly adds a level of suspense and excitement.
"A Storm of Swords" adds Jaime as a point of view character, and he quickly became one of my personal favourites, especially with Tyrion's viewpoint also being maintained throughout the book to provide a different Lannister perspective. Jaime is an incredibly nuanced character and begins to undergo a lot of change in this novel, and much like Tyrion, he walks the line between protagonist and antagonist, never really being one or the other. With his background and unique perspective, I hope we see Jaime as a point of view character (and, indeed, that he survives whatever the next books throw at him) in future books.
This is also the book where certain characters began to stand out to me as being just plain annoying and, surprisingly, boring. As I've mentioned in my other reviews, "A Song of Ice and Fire" is so great partially because different characters will resonate differently with each reader, so your favourite character may be someone else's least favourite. As I was reading this book, I found that the character that tended to make me groan aloud when I started a chapter and saw his name was Bran. That's not to say he's a poorly written character; he just doesn't really appeal to me. Perhaps it's because there are so many other plot lines to focus on, but I found him and his story to be a tad boring. I don't doubt that he and his quest will be significant since he's one of the few characters that encounters magic (a rarity in this world), but his position as the wise, future-seeing, up-and-coming mage just doesn't interest me personally.
Despite my couple complaints (which are really more personal in nature than anything necessarily "wrong" with the book), "A Storm of Swords" is a solid entry in the series. It takes the themes and plots from the first two books and builds upon them to create a novel that is better, darker, and more intriguing than the first two. The plot is still steadily moving forward, building momentum and adding layers of story with each book. With the cast being as massive as it is and the number of storylines being many, I find myself wondering how Martin will tie everything together. He's proven to be a capable writer so far, so I'm sure he'll figure it out. At any rate, this monstrous book is one Hell of a good read. Five stars!
Revelations abound as plans come to fruition; requiring readers to reevaluate characters and events from the beginning.
The book also continues the stories of Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, but while they represent a solid quarter of the book’s chapters, it’s in the politics of the Lannister, Stark, and Baratheon that this book shines; skillfully using Arya and Davos to continue demonstrating how the choices of great lords often fall upon the common folk like ruinous storms. The story never lets audiences forget the horror of war, and the reality that even the victor pays a heavy price.
This is the longest book so far in the series, with 74 chapters and 10 distinct perspectives. For many characters their story is told on the road, encountering new characters with each chapter. There are little touches of humor from time to time, but like its predecessors, Storm of Swords is a grim book, where amoral schemers often receive the richest rewards.
+Strong characters
+Strong plot, with rich twists
+Strong ideas, with 10 perspectives
+Touches of humor
*Grim
4/5
Top reviews from other countries

On balance, because of some of the boring fluff and other frustrations which mar the story a bit I'm going to give this 4 rather than 5 stars, but I do think this is a great book. The author has taken on the task of describing a World War in fantasy form. It is epic, fascinating, and ultimately rewarding.



The book has started splitting from the tv series in these books whereas the first is almost identical. It's good to see some changes and other characters. The most impressive thing is that the author can write books of such staggering size whilst keeping the stories so riveting and the characters so interesting. I've read other books in similar format, where one persons story is so much more exciting you want to skip other people's chapters to get back to it - but that's not the case here. There also isn't an overwhelming number of people - the next book 4 is the first point this storey starts sagging. If you love book one, then get this and you will not be disappointed. You'll then perhaps need to gather yourself for book 4, and I can't comment on book 5 as I'm slogging my way through book 4 at the mo :). I think I can only compare this series to Robert Jordan Wheel of Time series because of the size and fantasy - but as enjoyable as Robert Jordan is - this series is much more impressively written.

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