A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin

It is often hard to keep track of the dearth of characters in an epic fantasy series such as this one, but Martin handles this exceptionally well by dedicating individual chapters to the characters themselves, to their points of view, their voice, and story. This makes them memorable and therefore makes it so much easier to follow as the story progresses. I found there was less "who was that again?" and more "ah, hello again!" The characters are well-rounded and carry depth, which is hard to find in a lot of fantasy. It's not wonder this series was chosen to be adapted to film, as the characters practically leap from the page.

This is an immense novel, however, full of intrigue, politics, and varying cultures. Martin has pulled no punches in developing a harsh and unforgiving landscape, even for the youngest of his characters. Sansa, who for me throughout the novel was a contemptible spoiled brat finally has her romantic illusions shattered (I won't spoil it). The eight year-old Bran speaks earnestly to a prisoner about the harshness of life in the North (yeah, kids aren't exactly kids in this book, and rightly so) and barely-pubescent Daenerys learns that to be a female leader, there must be some ruthlessness involved. I can appreciate this in his writing, as far too often authors try to give their characters happy endings, coddling them and making everything happy and shiny.

There is nothing happy and shiny in Game of Thrones. Far from it. And I love it for that. Every dirty, nasty, incestuous, grasping, violent, back-stabbing, beheading moment of it. A fairy tale this is not.

While this book originally came out when I was a teenager (why oh why did I never notice it then?) and I could have read it, one book at a time as they were published, I have the entire series at hand now, however, I must say, having finished the book, Martin wrapped it up neatly enough that I am not clamoring desperately for the next in the series, which is unique also in fantasy. As a fan of the genre, often I would wait a year between books with a massive cliffhanger, leaving me empty and unresolved, but not so with Game of Thrones. Martin was so much more courteous and wrote a complete novel as part of a series, rather than something that felt like part one of a massive book to be assembled, like green stamp dictionaries from the super market. I tip my hat, sir. You do your craft a service.

Rated 5 stars on Goodreads

The Wolf Gift by Anne Rice

Where do I even begin? This was an Anne Rice book that did not read like an Anne Rice book. It was, to use a word she loves, interminable. Interminably dull. There was nothing sensual or romantic like I'm used to with her writing, although it looks like she tried really, really hard. Is this her writing now that she's found Jesus? I honestly hadn't read anything since the Vampire Chronicles and this was a letdown.

Reuben, the protagonist, is hardly a relatable or sympathetic character; he's a trust-fund baby who slums as a reporter that drives a Porsche and blithely throws money around on a house and the various accoutrements to fill it (said house is furnished...). And he (and everyone else in the book, including a 16 year old) is an expert in anthropology and theology. And music. And classical literature. The book wanders, meanders, tries too hard to be philosophical. The characters are all pretentious, especially Reuben's affair-turned girlfriend, the milksop Laura in her constant old-lady garb. People like this don't exist. And so much emphasis was placed on some ancient cuneiform tablets that were found within the house that the reader is lead to think, when they turn up missing "well, they must have something to do with this werewolf thing!" Nope. Not a damn thing.

With the topic of werewolves, she had so much potential, and this fell so painfully flat. I have never thrown a book down and yelled out loud my frustrations at an author before this. I hope never to have to again

Given 1 star on Goodreads (This review originally posted to Goodreads)