It’s
obvious at this point that the great fantasy phenomenon of our time
will be remembered as George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and
Fire, known more colloquially by the name of the TV series A
Game of Thrones. It’s unusual for a fantasy series to make
this much of a cultural impact beyond the bounds of the genre, and
the last time this really happened was with the popularization of The
Lord of The Rings in the 60s and 70s. Martin’s work draws a
lot of comparison to Tolkien, and there are often expressions of
surprise that an epic fantasy could be so dark, but that is because
it’s not really an epic fantasy.
Comparisons
with Tolkien’s work are amusing but ultimately useless, because
Martin is not writing epic or “high” fantasy like Tolkien
avowedly was. Tolkien was inspired by myth, framed his stories as
myth, and wrote them in a mythic style informed by his time and
place. Martin is writing Sword & Sorcery, and the whole work has
to be looked at in this light.
High
Fantasy, often called Epic Fantasy, is a style of fantasy informed by
classical myth as well as Biblical ideas. In a high fantasy world,
the past is always more important and grander than the present. All
power and magic derives from the remnants of a lost Golden Age that
came before. The artifacts and echoes of this golden age are the
sources of all power. Tolkien spent an entire book detailing this
age, and the long declension from it: the Age of the Valar, the fall
of Melkor, the War of Wrath, the rise of the Elves, the rise of
Numenor and its fall.
In
these earlier ages, men lived to be hundreds of years old, weapons
were all powerful, wise men knew all secrets and knowledge, and the
gods walked among men. If that sounds like the myths of the Trojan
War or the early lineages of Genesis, then that is no surprise. Even
the greatest figures of Middle-Earth – Gandalf, Aragorn, Elrond,
Sauron – are just the tag-ends of the great powers of the former
ages. This is the mold of High Fantasy – a detailed and exalted
past that defines and empowers the debased and fallen present.
The
world of Westeros doesn’t really work that way. The past in this
world is kind of a shit show, with randomized seasons and winters
that famously last for decades. There’s a giant wall that holds
back an ancient inhuman race of monsters who wander down from the
north every so often to kill everyone. The great Empire of the Past
– Valyria – was decadent and weird and cursed by the gods or some
such. It is certainly not remembered as a golden age for humans.
In
Martin’s world, the past is a source of power, but it is almost
entirely evil power, or at least inhuman power that is dangerous to
mankind. Rather than a past where the gods used to show up and help
people out or mate with them, the gods of his world remain distant,
inscrutable, and maybe imaginary. The world he invented is shown as
dangerous and unfriendly, and the people are even worse.
High
Fantasy is famously black and white in its morality. Good guys are
here, bad guys over there. The bad guys usually wear black and have
some kind of skull motif going on. Dark towers, trolls and goblins,
volcanoes and undead knights – the bad guys are not hard to spot.
Martin
posits a world all in shades of gray. There are almost no
unambiguously good people, and those that seem so usually suffer or
die for it. The cast exists in a glorious rainbow of moral
questionability that would delight the heart of any noir detective.
A lot of the famed ‛darkness’ of the books is simply the venal,
grasping, cruel behavior of the characters, much of it borrowed from
episodes of our own history. While a character like Conan or Elric
would seem horribly out of place in Middle Earth, in Westeros they
might almost go unnoticed.
George
once told me that he expressly wrote A Song of Ice and Fire as a
reaction to working in TV for too many years. He was sick of being
told his ideas were too long, too complicated, too expensive, and too
dark. He wanted to work big again, partly just for the hell of it,
and that length has made people mistake his work and The Lord of
the Rings as the same kind of beast, when in fact they are very
different. Tolkien was inspired by Homer and Mallory, while Martin
has drawn on history, and on the dark thread of Sword & Sorcery
woven through the landscape of American fantasy.
I have not read any Martin yet; too much of an investment of time for me just now. But based on what I have seen in the TV series, I mostly agree with your assessment, though I would like to see more horror elements to make it lean towards S&S. I generally prefer my S&S in a shorter format, and as standalone tales. I like them bloody and action filled, but without sacrificing a dark, creepy mood. I also enjoy a little purple prose along the way. I do NOT like angsty, self doubting emos who can't act instantly in a dangerous situation. You know what I mean...
ReplyDeleteI have to agree that the one element that really keeps the series from being "pure" S&S would be the lack of a real S&S hero. Now if Daenerys was seven feet tall and had a soul-drinking sword, we might be in business...
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