A Storm of Swords

The third installment of A Song of Ice and Fire, A Storm of Swords, is the novel in which all the plots of the series really start to unfold: its narrative is permeated by major events that brutally modify the political structure of Westeros and the life and personality of its inhabitants. However, the book slips up precisely on the portrayal of some of these exciting scenes.

The story still follows the war for the Iron Throne, interspersing it with Daenerys’ search for power on the neighboring continent of Essos, and with the Night’s Watch’s resistance in the north, as they try to investigate and stop the advance of terrifying supernatural creatures.

George R. R. Martin has always told his epic story with a focus on the individual, highlighting the point of view of each character, and here he adds two more to the already wide range available: Samwell Tarly’s and Jaime Lannister’s. Besides that, the author also manages to avoid one of the greatest issues of the previous volumes, this time making all perspectives both interesting and relevant to the events that transpire.

Samwell’s point of view, for example, stands out because his sweet personality contrasts with the atmosphere of terror built by the constant appearances of the White Walkers. His point of view sheds a light on those mysterious creatures and, as a result, makes Jon’s quest more urgent and tense. Jaime’s perspective, on the other hand, is striking in the way that it subverts the character: since the main image on the kingslayer until now was originated from the Starks’ point of view, when the reader finnaly follows the events through his eyes they discover a character that, while still having made all the terrible things he’s made, is considerably more just and loveable than imagined, bringing a twisted notion of honor that fits perfectly into the discussion introduced in the first novel.

About old characters, one whose plot stands out is Arya, due to the introduction of a group of outlaws called the Brotherhood and the surprising development of the Hound, who reinforces his ambivalent nature: he can be brutal, but also caring; indifferent to violence, but fair nonetheless. Even Daenerys, who decides to return from vacation, impresses with her most violent arc so far. The queen proves to be even more ruthless than before, and if her unrelenting promises to take what is rightfully hers with “fire and blood” were empty in the previous volumes – loaded primarily with hope – here they become quite real. She keeps being developed gradually, with external circumstances molding her character and influencing her actions, and here even her treacherous war stratagems surprise and provide a new glimpse of the kind of leader she may eventually become.

Tyrion, on the other hand, is a letdown. The dwarf was always smart enough to know when to speak, what to do, and how to identify his true enemies – essential attributes to one wanting to survive King’s Landing. However, in A Storm of Swords his personality changes abruptly: he becomes impulsive, foolish, and eager to show his worth to others, especially his father. He becomes, in short, an uninteresting pawn in the so-called game of thrones.

The magical element is also a bit heavy-handed here. In fantasy, magic must often be used with great care to avoid causing plot holes and cases of deus ex machina. The presence of Melisandre’s God in A Clash of Kings, for example, worked precisely because it was confined to her plotline, functioning as means to differentiate Stannis from the other kings by making the atmosphere around him more sinister. In A Storm of Swords, though, the reach of the Red God spreads all over Westeros, leading to some questionable events. Even resurrections happen, which never fail to seem arbitrary, leaving the reader – and even some characters – to wonder why magic can make some people come back to life but not others. Actions that surround the Red God will often arouse questions like these, and because they are never answered, they can hamper the impact of some of the events and twists.

Nonetheless, it remains interesting to observe the parallel between magic and honor that is reinforced in A Storm of Swords. It is always the characters that are the most connected to honor who are surrounded by the most powerful forms of magic. Stannis, with his draconian vision of justice, has Melisandre by his side. The Night’s Watch, sustained by honor, is tasked with defending Westeros from the supernatural. The Starks have direwolves, which even leave their side in moments of doubt: Grey Wind, when Robb breaks his vow and falls in love with a woman that is not related to Walder Frey; Ghost, while Jon is also divided between love and duty; and even Lady suffered the consequences of Sansa’s lie in A Game of Thrones. Meanwhile, the Lannisters, who could not care less about honor, deny the existence of magic and act with scorn and suspicion towards anyone who claims otherwise. With Daenerys, we have a mysterious figure related to honor becoming her knight and, in a previous volume, her brother’s inability to resist fire as other examples. In short, there are several parallels in the series to discuss the ambivalence of honor: it can represent a political weakness, but also be the greatest strength of its bearer. Both concepts are shed by the same light, being treated as ancient and noble forces that can become a double-edged blade if managed carelessly.

But let’s put the magic aside, for A Storm of Sword is acclaimed for being the novel with the most battles and wars in the series so far. Martins’ prose, however, struggles to make them exciting: the events surely are impactful, but the way they are conveyed not always so. The author, for instance, can prepare all the pieces leading to a battle brilliantly, making the reader understand the intricate circumstances of the fight and care for the combatants, but at the moment of the actual frenzy, Martin describes the raids, the charges and the assaults with the same cadence with which he describes Cersei’s breakfast. The big battles, so present in Jon’s climax, are minutely detailed in detriment of pacing.

Even singular duels are a bit anticlimactic due to the surplus of descriptions related to sound. The best example is the fight between the Hound and the leader of the Brotherhood. The author quickly describes Lord Beric as a sinister man and one that is clearly confident in the outcome of the duel, while the reader already has past memories to form an image of the Hound’s brutality. They face each other and when the battle actually starts not only we are limited to blades “screaming through the air” but also with passages such as “clang and clang, and the big oaken shields took blow after blow after blow”. We don’t visualize the battle, only hear its sounds. It would be great if this strategy served a narrative purpose – maybe reflecting Arya’s shaken perspective –, but “sound” is all over the place in A Storm of Swords frequently appearing in climactic events. If sometimes it is indeed effective (one character dies with a “sickening crunch”), sometimes it is just cringy (another one dies after coughing “kof kof kof kof”). But the apex is certainly the scene in which Hodor (“Hodor!”) throws a stone down a well and Bran stops to ponder whether the noise it made was more a “gulp” than a “splash”.

However, A Storm of Swords doesn’t survive only on its epic battles, since the novel also contains a large share of betrayals, revelations, and tense twists – now emblematic elements of the series. In this field, Martin fares a bit better. The events, when personal, bloody and ruthless (like assassinations and weddings), are much more impactful than the battles. Some of the revelations, however, although coming at the right time – a few more books and no one would care or remember anymore –, are a mixed bag. Most work, giving a different perspective to old events, but others sound artificial. One, in fact, related to the origin of a certain dagger, is a bit coward since it never gives the character in question a chance to explain his motives, leaving the reader only with some loose conjectures.

A Storm of Swords is undeniably the novel in which the story of the series reaches its apex. It is the series most grandiose and ambitious volume, completely changing the panorama for the following novels. But it’s also flawed, with its arbitrary use of magic and problematic “musical” battles. Therefore, with so much going on, it is only natural that the great discussion of the series changes once again. If A Song of Ice and Fire first problematized the notion of honor and then proceeded to discuss the legitimacy of power, now the theme is much more intense: Valar Morghulis. All men must die.

December 04, 2018

Originally published in Portuguese on March 11, 2015.