Find A Review

March 24, 2018

A Feast for Crows (2005) (A Song of Ice and Fire, #4) by George R.R. Martin

I recently completed a re-read of this book and came away with such a hugely differing opinion from my first time through that I thought it important to encapsulate my thoughts here before they fade away with time.

On my first read I was struck with a similar feeling to those critical of the book; namely that I didn't care about these new (or previously secondary) characters, and that the plot moved too slowly and "nothing happens". Clearly, my expectations coming into the book during both of my reads served to enhance my reaction. The first time through I had just finished A Storm Of Swords, in which nearly 1,300 pages flash by in an instant thanks to the plot moving at the speed of light. So much happens in that book. And AFFC is its polar opposite in terms of pacing and what it's focused on. ASOS is hurtling you through the climax of the War of the Five Kings, the instability of the Night's Watch and the Battle at the Wall, and Daenerys's aggressive escapades in the East. Even the more slowly paced chapters, such as the Arya chapters, are highlighted with some great, pulse-pounding moments, such as Sandor Clegane's trial in Hollow Hill. The book is full of climactic moments; I almost consider it to be the conclusion of A Song Of Ice And Fire's first arc. It's fantastic.

A Feast For Crows, then, is not so much Martin beginning to pick up the pieces the first three novels have tossed around and establishing the beginning of the plot arcs for coming books (though he is certainly doing that), but Martin giving us a middle chapter in which we take a breath, look around, and survey all the chaos that has been wrought by the characters we've been following up until this point. Up until now, the focus has remained very deep and detailed; we're watching these characters' actions from the inside of their heads, primarily concerned with how they're going to attempt to accomplish their goals. AFFC sharply changes that.




More than half of this book takes place in the eyes of Brienne (8/46 chapters), Cersei (10/46 chapters), and Jaime (7/46 chapters). Instead of each chapter taking place with characters across the globe from one another, we're now centered in Westeros' very core, with Cersei ruling King's Landing, Jaime spending time in King's Landing and the neighboring Riverlands, and Brienne wandering the Crownlands and the Riverlands. These areas have been hard hit by the war. The common people of the Westerlands, the Riverlands, and the Crownlands bore the brunt of the war, as you might expect. Entire villages are gone, burned lumps of ash sacked and looted, their people executed and raped for no real reason other than a Lannister, Stark, Frey, or whomever patrol had come through. But it's been bad for the "haves" of this society as well. Landed knights, minor lords, and even some great and storied Westerosi noble houses have had their holdings burned around them and their granaries cleaned out by passing armies leaving them to starve in the coming winter. Entire great houses that have been around for thousands of years are extinguished. One of the major points of this novel is that things are bad amongst everyone in Westeros, even the victors. Well, except maybe the crows. Hence the title.

The plot does progress, albeit far more slowly than in any of the previous novels. The war is winding down, the climactic moments have occurred, and the victors are cleaning up what little resistance remains. So why did I enjoy this book so much? What fills the hole that all of these awesome, climactic moments have left?

A Feast For Crows is the most atmospheric of all the novels in the series up to this point. Martin's writing has clearly improved from the initial novel in the series, and he lets it shine here. This series features some of best character and dialogue writing in all genre fiction, and it's on full display in this book. There are several instances in this book in which the dialogue was so excellent, I had to set it down and remark aloud:

  • Aemon Targaryen, 102-years old and dying, waking from a fitful sleep to address his long-dead brother; "Egg? I dreamed I was old."
  • Septon Meribald's "broken man" speech putting into perspective how hellish the prospect of war actually is for Westeros' serf class.
  • Thoros of Myr lamenting upon what war has done to the brotherhood; "We were king’s men, knights, and heroes... but some knights are dark and full of terror, my lady. War makes monsters of us all."
  • Mya Stone describing her memories of Robert Baratheon's love for her prior to his abandonment, and how she was raised by the mountains of the Eyrie after he left.




This book is Martin's rumination upon why war is so terrible, why it's a net-negative for all of those involved. Nobody has come out of the War of the Five Kings in a better place than when they've started. The losers, obviously not. But even the victors. Their granaries are empty. Family members have died in the war or are marrying people they hate to bury the hatchet with previously rival houses. Vast swaths of lands and holdings have been destroyed. And while all of this death and destruction could have made a book like this a bleak slog of a read, Martin's consistently excellent mise en scène alleviates that problem, as does his inclusion of many minor characters who serve to heighten the story past what it could have been. The moments of beauty and hopefulness present in this novel contrast more sharply given their context.

I understand that Martin's decision to split the narrative between this and A Dance With Dragons was a difficult one, but I really enjoy that A Feast For Crows stands on its own as his treatise on why war is such a terrible thing. It's a well-written, atmospheric treat for anyone who's a fan of this world, and coming into this novel a second time while knowing what to expect allowed me to enjoy it far more than I did the first time. The more I read, the more I found myself melting into its world, passively experiencing its characters and its setting, and becoming wholly immersed in what Martin has created. I didn't need the bombastic foolishness of the HBO series, or the climactic battles of the previous novel, or pulse-quickening episodes of single combat. I was too busy being enveloped in the pine trees gently rustling in the wind as Brienne, Pod, and Dick Crabb slowly meandered their way through the woods of Crackclaw Point. I was skipping alongside Arya as she explored the quiet canals of Braavos at night under a full moon. Or with Jaime and his pensiveness in Castle Darry as a fire crackles in the corner and the Autumn wind howls against the shutters. Reading A Feast For Crows is like watching one of those 10-hour long YouTube ambiance videos and sipping on hot wine while thinking about something as profound and serious as what total war says about humanity as a whole and does to humans as individuals, and I love that about it. What it lacks in explosiveness, it makes up for in subtlety and its impeccable craft. If that sounds boring to you, then you probably won't like this. But if you love Westeros as much as I do, you'll probably enjoy this book for what it is.


⭐⭐⭐⭐