Fire & Blood

This pseudo history of House Targaryen’s conquest and early reign over Westeros, the fantasy kingdom A Game of Thrones is set in, exhibits all of Martin’s strengths and weaknesses as an author. Unluckily, the chosen format, an erudite fake history, makes the former – Martin’s ability to write engrossing, believable characters and tell a rich yarn through their eyes – mostly shine through their absence while the latter – Martin’s notorious lack of understanding of the histories and societies he draws his inspiration from – are painfully highlighted. Apparently, in the 150 or so years the book covers, the society, economy, technology, even fashion (judging from the illustrations) of Westeros did no evolve one iota; more vexing even, in the light of a radical paradigm change in warfare, dragons (and let’s not go into the naive nerdy Wunderwaffen belief that lies a the core of that; I’ll refer you to the strategic bombing campaigns of the 20th century, especially the Napalm fuelled ones of the US’ Vietnam war, to figure out how much of it has a foundation), neither weaponry nor tactics seem to change the least bit.

Much like the Ice and Fire series it silmarillions off of, Fire & Blood seems to be intended as a morality tale about people in power, disguised as the musings of those involved (or, in this case, later observers). I suspect much of that will go right over the reader’s heads, being entirely too subtle to hold its own against the sheer narrative spin, while some parts are so heavy handed they make you wonder if Martin is phoning it in (Elmo and Kermit Tully? Really?).