A Clash of Kings (1998) (A Song of Ice and Fire, #2) by George R.R. Martin

More than a decade ago when I first read these books, Martin's A Clash of Kings was among my least favorite of the lot.

The first novel of this series, A Game of Thrones, ends rather explosively. And so the beginning of Clash has to spend some time picking up the scattered pieces, and replacing those broken in the last book on the board. We're immediately introduced to a new set of characters: Davos, Stannis, Melisandre. I have the specific recollection of a feeling of frustration the first time I read these chapters. I didn't care for these new people—I was far more concerned with what had happened to the characters I'd just left as I completed Thrones.

On re-reading the series, though, I've got the distinct feeling that I'm revisiting old friends from times past. Stannis and Davos are two of my favorite characters in the series, and it was a joy to crack open some of these chapters once again. My perspective was thus vastly different opening this book to re-read it than it was to read it for the first time. A Clash of Kings is relatively unfettered from the shackles that bind A Game of Thrones; that is, the responsibility of teaching new readers all about this world. Thrones suffers a bit from a roughness of style and pacing due to this, but Clash is refreshingly free of it, for the most part.

Despite that freer feeling, the beginning of this book does dial back the tension a bit in order to introduce its new characters. I think, in general, Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series suffers greatly from this sort of "dial-it-back-and-reset-the-board" feeling that you get with books such as Clash, A Feast for Crows, and A Dance With Dragons. These are such massive, unwieldy novels which include so many different characters and locales that it must be absurdly difficult for Martin to keep the train propelled on the tracks. Thus we're struck with these jagged sorts of starts and stops as he introduces new players (sometimes over hundreds of pages) to continue forcing the plot along, in addition to bringing in new locales to keep things fresh.

And it certainly remains fresh. This is the third time I've read this book, and I must confess I enjoyed it more this time than either of the first two times I read it. Martin's prose can get awfully schlocky at times (something seemingly all fantasy falls victim to with varying regularity) but somehow this campiness manages to work for me—someone for whom campiness falls flat and alienates, 9 times out of 10.

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all.

Outside of its context, Jon's rumination on a late Autumn morning in the far north reads more than a tad purple and overwrought. But once you've taken this journey with Jon and shared his nerves, his camaraderie, the absence of his siblings... Well, it seems just the right time to hit the reader with a cloud of purple prose as Jon takes a moment and appreciates his surroundings, setting aside his tension, fear, and the realization of the danger he's in. Martin's not regularly given to this sort of attempt at profundity, so when it does happen, it's refreshing. It never feels like he's trying too hard.

With this book, as with others in the series, the characters bear the brunt of the load and carry my enjoyment. Tyrion Lannister's wit is told to us as much as it's shown to us in the first book, but when placed in a position of political power in Clash, it's readily displayed in each chapter. The dialogue between him and the other political figures in this book (Cersei, Varys, Littlefinger, Lancel, Janos, etc.) is superbly enjoyable. Martin paints political maneuvering with a deep enough stroke that it feels more realistic than most fantasy (which is given to an absurdly shallow and limited view of politics and governance that drives me batty), but never does it become so labyrinthine that it fails to still be fun. Martin's penchant for snappy, cinematic dialogue also helps it along greatly:

“Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less.”
“So power is a mummer’s trick?”
“A shadow on the wall,” Varys murmured, “yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow.”
Tyrion smiled. “Lord Varys, I am growing strangely fond of you. I may kill you yet, but I think I’d feel sad about it.”
“I will take that as high praise.”

Much of the book includes this kind of politicking, although it's interspersed with various fantastical meanderings that pepper Martin's series and make the books enjoyable to experience from an imaginative standpoint. Jon's rambles north of the wall into the wild lands and Daenerys' experiences in the House of the Undying Ones tickle my mind's eye. But the real star of the book, for me, is undoubtedly the political plays of characters such as Tyrion, along with the military maneuvering and staging of generals Stannis Baratheon and Robb Stark, and how expertly these events tick the tension upwards to the book's (literally) explosive climax.

The closing chapters of the book abandon this character interplay for outright action, and it all feels earned. The tension bursts in such an enjoyable way, and one of the major conflicts of the books is resolved in a way which doesn't feel too clean, nor does any of the culling feel like it's made for shock value alone. Martin's third-person limited structure provides three viewpoint characters for this climactic event, and all feel as if they have a unique voice and perspective of the climactic events. None tread on the others and all keep the action flowing at a perfect pace. I blew through the last 200 pages or so with unexpected alacrity.

Although I'm not a huge fan of fantasy, nor genre fiction in general, I can't help but love this series. It does feature some of the hallmarks of those subgenres, but it's so strongly themed, its characters are so well-realized, its imagery is so compelling, and its dialogue is such a pleasure to read that I can't seem to get enough of them. I'll probably read and re-read these books continuously until I die, and even if the series is never finished, I'll still be nothing but thankful for Martin's work and the hours of enjoyment these books have brought to my life.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐