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Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 2. The Night Lands
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Game of Thrones is based on A Song of Ice and Fire by George R R Martin. The content of Season 2 in this television adaptation by HBO is drawn from A Clash of Kings. As before, the production is helmed by David Benioff and D B Weis. Here’s the link to my retrospective overview of Game of Thrones Season 1. This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in each episode, so do not read this if you want to watch without prior knowledge.
One of the fascinating things about the way production companies cast and then directors direct is the way they deal with “foreign” accents. Now as one originating on the North East coast of England on the north bank of the Tyne, I can tell the difference between all the major northern accents and some of the Scottish ones. If you asked me about American accents, I could vaguely distinguish between the north and south, but it’s a vast country and it would be guesswork as to where anyone came from. So here’s the thing. This American production company wants to make a series about a fictional world, but it would be convenient to map accents on to our world. So, for example, since British actors come more cheaply than their American counterparts, we could cast all the Lannisters as southern English with received
Jaime Lannister emoting in Danish
pronunciation (apart from the Danish guy, that is — he looks so good, viewers will just eat up anything he manages to say in English). That would leave us with a convenient group of accents for the northern folk, Scottish for the wildlings and Irish for the Iron Islands (Danish for the good-looking). Except it hasn’t worked out with any degree of consistency. We’ve people in the same families speaking with different accents. Now, of course, we’re not striving for realism here. This is fantasy and it’s a miracle any of them can actually string two sentences together. More to the point, Game of Thrones is actually been made with the American market uppermost in HBO’s mind so the accuracy of accents is the last thing anyone’s worrying about. Who among the millions of American viewers will know or care whether a father and son should speak with the same accent? This is the real world of television production and I should just “get over it”. Except, since these Americans are hiring some of Britain’s best acting talent, they could have asked these Brits to sort it out among themselves. Leaving it to random chance is sloppy directing when it was so easy to fix.
Jaqen H’ghar (Tom Wlaschiha) not looking quite as deadly as usual
As we start off The Night Lands, Arya (Maisie Williams) investigates the contents of the cage on the King’s Highway and so meets Jaqen H’ghar (Tom Wlaschiha). She watches from the safety of the ditch as Yoren (Francis Magee) drives away the first two soldiers searching for Gendry (Joe Dempsie) one of the Baratheon bastards. They exchange brief family details but the two runaways fail to bond. Varys (Conleth Hill) comes to see Tyrion Lannister (Peter Dinklage) and Shae (Sibel Kikilli) so they can exchange ritual threats and then watch Cersei Lannister (Lena Headey) meet with Theon Greyjoy (Alfie Allen) and reject the terms for peace he brings from Robb Stark (Richard Madden). With no awareness of the dangers, she also refuses to send more men to the Wall demonstrating little sense of diplomacy or long-term interest in self-defence. Later Tyrion confronts Janos Slynt (Dominic Carter) for his role in slaughtering the bastards. That leaves Bron (Jerome Flynn) in charge as the Commander of the City Watch. His morals are no better, but at least he’s a known quantity. The argument over Slynt’s fate then spreads to include Cersei who has never forgiven Tyrion — their mother died while giving birth to the “dwarf” — and finds it hard to take criticism from him on her style of government. He, on the other hand, feels obliged to point out that rulers depend on the passivity of their people. If the masses rise up, one or two rulers and their guards stand no chance. It’s therefore refreshing that Cersei was not the one to order the slaughter of the bastards. That was Joffrey (Jack Gleeson).
Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane) and Melisandre (Carice van Houten)
Equally lacking in the sense department, Jon Snow (Kit Harington) finds himself under pressure from Samwell Tarly (John Bradley) to take Gilly (Hannah Murray), one of the Craster (Robert Pugh) “wives”, with the group when they leave. It seems Craster acts ruthlessly when the wives produce boys. The trouble is that Jon Snow has too much initiative and even more curiosity. He finds it difficult to follow orders.
There’s more sex in this episode as Balon Greyjoy (Patrick Malahide) and the fierce Yara Greyjoy (Gemma Whelan) welcome the randy and, to them, effete Theon Greyjoy to the Iron Islands. Petyr Baelish aka Littlefinger (Aidan Gillen) offers a shoulder to one of those in his brothel whose bastard child was murdered (that’s a cold shoulder, of course). Salladhor Saan (Lucian Msamati) talks to Davos Seaworth (Lian Cunningham) as one pirate to another on whether Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane) can succeed when he has the smallest army. As men of honour and atheists both, the old pirate comrades agree to combine their naval forces. This puts them slightly at odds with Matthos Seaworth (Kerr Logan) who’s rather devout in the new religion. Stannis is also having trouble with his conversion to the ways of his seer, so Melisandre (Carice van Houten) turns to seduction to complete the conversion. She’s the means to the end of making her own prophesies come true.
This episode is moving us along at a reasonable pace, showing just how dangerously incompetent the Cersei/Joffrey combination has become. While enjoying the company of the Stark family, Theon Greyjoy has also lost touch with the ways of his family. Politically, everything is falling into place for the different claimants to start fighting for the throne. The remaining Starks and Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke) have less to do. In a way, The Night Lands is still all set-up but the slightly brooding atmosphere of the episode is easing.
For the reviews of other episodes, see:
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 1. The North Remembers
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 3. What Is Dead May Never Die
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 4. Garden of Bones
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 5. The Ghost of Harrenhal
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 6. The Old Gods and the New
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 7. A Man Without Honor
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 8. The Prince of Winterfell
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 9. Blackwater
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 10. Valar Morghulis
Game of Thrones: Season 2 — the HBO series considered
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 1. The North Remembers
Game of Thrones is based on A Song of Ice and Fire by George R R Martin. The content of Season 2 in this television adaptation by HBO is drawn from A Clash of Kings. As before, the production is helmed by David Benioff and D B Weis. Here’s the link to my retrospective overview of Game of Thrones Season 1. This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in each episode, so do not read this if you want to watch without prior knowledge.
It’s always interesting to see how television shows deal with the nature of political power. Looking back for a moment, our own William Shakespeare was not immune from the need to change history to suit the sensibilities and expectations of his audience. Perhaps more importantly, he also needed money from patrons to survive, so could not afford to upset the nobility by critiquing their use of power. It’s the same today because, with the exception of home-grown talent like the BBC or the Public Broadcasting Service in America which are not for-profit and so less dependent on advertising revenue, the folk who write and produce television shows have to consider the tastes of their audience very carefully. If viewership numbers fall and corporate advertisers will not pay top rates for their puffs to air, the producers and the networks take a big hit. That means, even at an allegorical level, writers and producers must be very careful what they say and show.
Peter-Dinklage getting his seat at the table of power
I’m starting the review of The North Remembers in this way because of one scene between Petyr Baelish aka Littlefinger (Aidan Gillen) and Cersei Lannister (Lena Headey). He plays the line that, as one of the spymasters, knowledge is power. As a response, she has a guard ready to cut his throat because power is power. The whole point of Season 2 is the collapse of the Kingdom of Westeros. Although Joffrey (Jack Gleeson) carries the Baratheon name and may appear to be the legitimate heir, the news of his true parentage will soon be spread through the marketplaces. Despite the Lannisters’ best efforts to kill all the bastard children Robert Baratheon left around the kingdom, claimants to the Iron Throne will come rapidly into view and civil war is unavoidable. We already have Robb Stark (Richard Madden) proclaimed as King of the North. Elsewhere, Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane) has accepted Ned Stark’s invitation and steps into the ring to duke it out for the Crown. In such circumstances, the person-to-person physical power that Cersei wields is worth little, but a spymaster’s practical understanding of the “big picture” has great value, particularly if he’s also pulling some of the strings. Indeed, Cersei’s attempts to run the kingdom are ineffectual, while Joffrey’s reign is one of random sadism. One interesting figure on the horizon is Sandor Clegane (Rory McCann). As Joffrey’s bodyguard, he’s currently amusing himself by killing unwilling victims in unequal combat. We expect better things from him.
Lena Headey who’s intermittently in control of the situation
Fortunately, Tyrion Lannster (Peter Dinklage) is sent by his father to be the Hand. Since he’s not only intelligent but has also seen the world, he’s the right man in the right place with the right perspective to get things done. Although he can’t ignore Joffrey and Cersei, he has his hands on the levers of power. It’s a shame the same can’t be said of Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau). He’s still being held as a hostage by Robb Stark and his embarrassingly fake CGI direwolf. Ah yes, the Starks. What a dour northern bunch they are. Young Bran (Isaac Hempstead-Wright), of course, is the most interesting and we now have a proper view of him with Hodor (Kristian Nairn). It’s going to be interesting to watch him come to terms with his warg abilities. Arya (Maisie Williams) is briefly glimpsed on the King’s Road going north with Yoren (Francis Magee). We look for great things from her. Sansa (Sophie Turner) is in full survival mode, although we do notice a minor act of rebellion supported covertly by Tyrion. Out on military manoevres with her son, Catelyn Stark (Michelle Fairley) accepts the first commission to reach out to make alliances. Robb cannot win on his own. If he’s to realise his potential power, he must have allies.
Isaac Hempstead-Wright and Kristian Nairn moving around with more confidence
Although there were hints of magic in Season 1 through Bran Stark’s dreams, not counting the dragons, of course, this opening episode is the first opportunity to see the Red Princess “at work”. As Melisandre (Carice Van Houten), she demonstrates her power over poison administered by Maester Cressen (Oliver Ford Davies), a follower of the old religion. Stannis Baratheon seems suitably humourless and so is well equipped to succumb to Melisandre’s charms.
Jon Snow (Kit Harington) is making progress in the power game. He learns the vital lesson that to become an effective leader, he must first learn how to be a follower. Jeor Mormont (James Cosmo) commands a small force north of the Wall to gather intelligence. While visiting the home of Craster (Robert Pugh), a wildling patriarch who takes all his daughters as his wives as soon as they are old enough, they hear the name of Mance Rayder. He was a former Ranger who’s setting himself up as the King-Beyond-the -Wall. So far, there’s little sign of his power. Even further off the map is Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke). She may have the name, be the proud owner of three dragons and have the good-looking Ser Jorah Mormont (Iain Glen) in tow, but this counts for little when you’re in a desert without any provisions. At this point, it’s as well to remember that knowledge is power.
Emilia Clarke with one dragon to go
Overall, The North Remembers is a dark and brooding episode focusing on themes of knowledge and power. Many may find the killing of Robert’s bastards hard to take. Political expediency is rarely pretty in action. We see power in transition in the Westeros and power left behind in the land of the Dothraki. We hear of new power rising north of the Wall. We see a priestess of R’hilor seeking to consolidate her God’s power in the Westeros by supporting Stannis. So despite ranging from icy wastes to desert sands, the episode just about hangs together and moves us forward at a reasonable pace. I’m not sure Shakespeare would have appreciated it, but the advertisers have spoken and HBO has commissioned the third series. I guess this means David Benioff, D B Weis and George R R Martin have won this particular power battle.
For review of Season 2, see:
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 2. The Night Lands
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 3. What Is Dead May Never Die
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 4. Garden of Bones
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 5. The Ghost of Harrenhal
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 6. The Old Gods and the New
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 7. A Man Without Honor
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 8. The Prince of Winterfell
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 9. Blackwater
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 10. Valar Morghulis
Game of Thrones: Season 2 — the HBO series considered
A Dance With Dragons by George R R Martin
Well here come the reviews I’ve been delaying. When I organised the pile of arrivals some months ago, I carefully left the three big books to read at the end. Well, actually, that’s not quite right. Only two of the books are relatively big. The third is a monster. We’ll get to that as and when, and then start on the new pile. So with my fallible memory, I confess beginning the onslaught on A Dance With Dragons by George R R Martin (Volume 5 of Song of Ice and Fire) without any clear recollection of what had been happening in the preceding four volumes. Recently watching the HBO serialisation of A Game of Thrones helped a lot. It recaptured some memories of who all the main players are. But reading through this, I kept stopping to wonder if I was supposed to remember who this or that character is. It’s all a bit daunting and not a little frustrating to an old guy like me. More importantly, it highlighted a major truth. If you haven’t read any of the other books, you’ll be completely lost if you start with this. I struggled and I have read the others.
To that extent, I think there’s a major problem with the way this particular book has been published. There should be a summary for the forgetful or the merely curious who are picking this up on the back of the HBO television serialisation. Then I think a strong-minded editor should have hacked into this chunk of prose and aimed to produce a narrative that could stand more effectively on its own. Not everyone keeps a card-index system by his side when reading, so while this latest volume may appeal to the geekishly inclined, something shorter and with better internal explanations would be better. Further, I think the pacing could be improved. I know it’s difficult when you have single point-of-view chapters in a rotational pattern but, often, it’s hard to see why some bits are included in this volume. Structurally, it would have been better to publish three separate books dealing with events at the Wall, the continuing Westeros wars, and the plotting affecting the characters who find themselves in Valyria. That way, we could have maintained continuity and built up a more dynamic narrative.
Anyway, there’s no sense in complaining about how long it’s taken to get us to this point and whether publication should have been further delayed by a major editing exercise. We must deal with what we have. This starts off with Stannis still at the Wall which is causing serious problems for Jon Snow. As the new Commander, he’s doing his best to maintain the neutrality of the Night’s Watch while feeding not only the Watch and the King’s men, but also all the Wildlings who have accepted the offer of sanctuary on the “safe” side of the Wall. Daenerys is marginally in control of the city of Meereen and even less in control of the dragons. Tyrion Lannister is still struggling with the guilt of killing his father while vaguely making his way in the general direction of Daenerys. And then there’s the continuing fighting in the so-called War of the Five Kings, made more interesting as Aegon unexpectedly appears with the Golden Company and finds an opportunity for seizing the initiative. In 959 a lot of stuff happens confirming what we might call the epic pretensions of this series. Not that going for epic is inherently a bad thing. It’s just that even holding the damn book for any length of time is tiring let alone trying to remember who everyone is and what side they’re supposed to be on. So instead of waiting six years for a blockbuster (and a further few months before I got round to reading it), I would prefer to reduce the size of the instalments and increase their frequency. Two-hundred-and-fifty pages a year will do nicely for me.
George R R Martin modelling a flat cap in a fantasy castle setting
Some people make comparisons with Tolkien so I’d better clear the air and say I found sections of The Lord of the Rings genuinely tedious in their attention to detail. Distilled down to their essence, there’s a good story spanning the three books based on the fellowship of a few, but the execution would have been improved by editing down all that mass of background material. For them as is interested, there can be a Tolkien companion volume (or two) to fill in all the gaps. George Martin goes to the opposite extreme with a small army of people to keep track of and multiple plot threads to follow. If I had to pick a more appropriate model, I would say he’s Dickensian in ambition, trying to capture all life in a fantasy world in a few thousand pages. Whereas Tolkien was a gentleman of academic inclination finding a way to capture his sense of the debate between good and evil, and the use of war as a means of settling the argument, George Martin is less interested in the civilised point of view, preferring to mix in with the guys at the sharp end and capture a sense of what it’s like when the shit hits the fan.
So while it’s good to meet up with Tyrion again, it’s getting a little repetitive as he’s thrust into containers of varying sizes and carted around without having a great deal of say in the direction of travel. He’s back to being reactive and in survival mode while trying to recover peace of mind. Yes, it’s always going to be a challenge to adjust to the reality of patricide, but this section of the narrative is much less fun. We’ve seen its like before in the sky cell and comparable situations. Jon Snow remains interesting although the politicking is sometimes on the verge of boring. I was pleased to see Arya making progress and Cersei Lannister gets something of a reality check. Bran’s development is fascinating. But, to be honest, a lot of the stuff that happens feels rather like it’s marking time. The whole section in Meereen, for example, doesn’t seem to be advancing us very far and all the Dornish material is genuinely boring. Overall, I kept hoping for a major battle or some large scale catastrophe, but I suppose that’s all being kept back for the last two episodes.
Overall, there are one or two nice moments of humour but the entire experience is like wading through a swamp. Although I’ll read what I sincerely hope will be the final two volumes (I’m curious to see how it all does fit together), A Dance With Dragons is not the exciting epic I was hoping for. That said, it has won the 2012 Locus Award for Best Fantasy Novel.
For thoughts on the television serial, see Game of Thrones.
For reviews of the anthologies George R R Martin has edited with Gardner Dozois, see:
Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance
Songs of Love and Death
Warriors
Game of Thrones Season 1 — the HBO series considered
Ah, books as the basis of stage, radio, television or film adaptations. Now there’s a thorny subject. Even back in Victorian England, there was ambivalence when much-loved classics were adapted for the theatre. The major success was William Gillette’s Sherlock Holmes, or The Strange Case of Miss Faulkner which eclipsed Doyle’s own stage versions of the Great Detective as one of the most profitable versions of written works ever performed. It succeeded because it only borrowed the ideas. To parody Hollywood, “it was inspired by written sources”, i.e. written as a play that just happens to be about Sherlock Holmes. In most other cases, critics and audiences failed to see the virtue in, first, stage and, later, film recyclings of classic novels. Strangely, radio has fared somewhat better, possibly because, like the written word, the spoken word also leaves much to the imagination. Once you show something in the flesh or on screen, there’s an immediate loss of credibility. I vividly remember seeing an early screen version of The Phantom of the Opera, the one staring Claude Rains as Erik and, when the mask was removed and he only showed a bad case of acne, most people in the cinema burst out laughing. Such was the quality of makeup and special effects in the distant past.
Sean Bean and Maisie Williams, kindred spirits and Starks
The average length of a novelisation converts film scripts into books of average length — strange how publishers manage that trick. Converting books usually creates films of average length which, for these purposes, is about two hours of action on the screen (excluding the opening and closing credits). For the cinematic experience, there’s a practical limit to how long people can or will sit without a break. When I was young, longer films like The Ten Commandments or Lawrence of Arabia had an interval where we could all stretch legs, empty bladders and gird our loins for the second half. The cinema owners also did well out the sales of hot drinks and icecream.
This crystalises the problem for those making a film. As those of you who buy audio books will know, it can take more than thirty hours to read a book aloud. It’s not practical to craft a film as a straight reproduction of the written word (with illustrations) unless it’s only as long as Where the Wild Things Are. So when it comes to adapting George R R Martin’s books in the series, A Song of Ice and Fire, the notion of a single film or even a trilogy is a nonstarter. Editing the content down to fit into the average length for a film would mean gutting the story to meaninglessness. This allows me to praise HBO for allowing an adaptation of the first book, A Game of Thrones, into ten one-hour episodes. There’s enough time to do justice to the plot.
Lena Headey as Cersei Lannister — attempting to be a moderating voice
However, our final judgement must be of the serial as a piece of television. Frankly, I don’t care whether it’s a faithful recreation of the book or not. I’ve seen many wooden and boring adaptations. Whoever scripts and shoots the scenes should be expert in visual narrative techniques. What may take pages to describe can be seen in a moment as background scenery. Whole chunks of dialogue may be more effectively caught in a single expression. Equally, what we might accept as appropriate continuity on a page may not make sense without bridging scenes on screen. Third person POV text does not necessarily translate directly to the screen unless we’re prepared to sit through a first-person-shooter narrative. We usually need a context for the action to make sense.
Writing the best adaptations takes time and can be improved through an evolutionary process — to winnow out the essential story and find the best way of showing it. As more unusual examples, Graham Greene’s novel Brighton Rock and Muriel Spark’s The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie were first adapted for the stage and only later transposed to the screen. It takes time to find what works best in the visual media. This is an even greater challenge when the source novel is a fantasy. How do you approximate on screen what each reader has been visualising in response to the written word. This serial has been some three years in the making and the care to get the structure of the narrative right for one-hour episodes shines brightly.
Jason Momoa as a somewhat out-of-place and gentle Khal Drogo
As to content, there are further problems, like how to portray the Dothraki. This is a horse-based, semi-nomadic culture with Khal Drogo (Jason Momoa) as an unexpectedly gentle, if physically powerful, Genghis Khan. This is not a problem solved by CGI creating a castle we can believe in as the Eyrie. We need bodies credibly acting like barbarians. Those of us who have sat through Conan-type films know barbarians are not the most attractive people. So how far should HBO go in showing this horde as fundamentally unpleasant, happily fucking and killing each other when not killing, raping and pillaging in cities around the neighbourhood. Ah, yes, we must remember this is an HBO production and therefore there will be many opportunities for frontal nudity and different varieties of sexual behaviour from heterosexual whoring and lesbian sex through to a mother breastfeeding her physically and mentally disabled son. Let there be little left to the imagination in showing sex both doggie style and later missionary position with coarse language to match. The most intriguing is the somewhat gratuitous lesbian scene during which Petyr Baelish (Aidan Gillen) explains his motives. Personally, I find it faintly amusing to see how vigorously HBO push the boundaries of “good taste”. It’s commercially audacious to include soft porn because that’s supposed to make these fantasies of knights and barbarians feel more realistic. Or is it because the results appeal to the voyeurs among us and deliver more paid advertising to the several million people who have so far watched the spectacle?
Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister showing you can't have too much protection
Whatever, this is a story about honour in conflict with pragmatism. In a more perfect world, feuding nobles would put aside their petty differences and run their kingdoms with the interests of the people more in mind. The Game of Thrones shows how jealousy and corruption fuel situations in which the maximum number of people can be sacrificed to personal causes. So we get many of the mediaeval clichés: the joust manipulated to place a victim in line with a killer’s lance, trial by combat fought to win rather than as a spectacle of good sportsmanship, political backstabbing as revenge for a jilted lover, and so on. This parade of the venal is intended to give the serial a sense of its own gritty reality. We see the darker side of human nature rather than some rose-tinted version of “history”. There’s a hilarious moment when Tyrion is giving an inspirational speech to his loyal woodsmen only to be trampled underfoot as they rush off into battle. That’s essentially a visual joke. It wouldn’t be funny on the page and it would be somewhat painful in real life as Tywin Lannister (Charles Dance) sends out the expendables to slow down the attacking northerners. There’s no need to fight when you have idiots prepared to do it for you. So, in all this, what price peace? Are principles worth more than thousands of lives? Should everything be negotiable? Or is power too seductive? Will pride always prevent compromise?
The cast of this ensemble piece is impressive. There’s even a valiant approximation of vaguely northern accents (with one speaker showing off a Durham accent for 10 seconds) versus generalised southern received pronunciation for the courtly ones. Although it’s faintly invidious to single out individuals, Sean Bean as Ned Stark shows calm determination in doing what he feels right, Lena Headey brings depth to Cersei Lannister, with the standout being Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister. He’s a revelation, combining intelligence and his own sense of honour with well-honed survival skills. Among the children, Maisie Williams promises well as Arya Stark. Taken overall, Game of Thrones is one of the best pieces of fantasy I can recall seeing on television at this length. I was emotionally engaged for most of the time, with the last two episodes demonstrating real power — the final images are particularly striking. You can’t ask for more than that on the small screen. For those of you who have not yet read the book, A Game of Thrones by George R R Martin, it’s an experience that will enrich your understanding of the television version.
For a review of Season 2:
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 1. The North Remembers
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 2. The Night Lands
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 3. What Is Dead May Never Die
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 4. Garden of Bones
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 5. The Ghost of Harrenhal
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 6. The Old Gods and the New
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 7. A Man Without Honor
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 8. The Prince of Winterfell
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 9. Blackwater
Game of Thrones: Season 2, Episode 10. Valar Morghulis
Game of Thrones: Season 2 — the HBO series considered
Songs of Love and Death edited by George R R Martin and Gardner Dozois
Songs of Love and Death: All Original Tales of Star-crossed Love is another impressive anthology from George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois who have now displaced Bambi and Thumper from the top of the league table of editorial superstars. This time, they have challenged their current coterie of top authors to explore the interface between romance and fantasy, looking for “star-crossed love”.
We start off with “Love Hurts” by Jim Butcher. This has Harry Dresden consider how much illusion can enhance reality as we pass in and out of the sometimes confusingly named Tunnel of Love. Perhaps if we know the love is fake, we can stop it from working its magic, which would be particularly important if, unlike Dresden and Murphy, we happened to be brother and sister. Switching tropes, “The Marrying Maid” by Jo Beverley is an elegant story of a mortal caught in a game between Oberon and Titania. Some might say this is a golden opportunity, particularly if we had a Robin Hood complex, but it all comes down to our credibility with the maidens. I mean, how many are gullible enough to fall for a story that the man will literally die if he doesn’t get them into bed?
George R R Martin demonstrating the concept of talking books.
“Rooftops” by Carrie Vaughn gives us a real twist on the superhero complex with many humans, modestly enhanced, emerging to defend the downtrodden from further victimisation. And all the mutual attraction between defender and defended could be celebrated in words, but only the postmodern variety, of course. After all, who knows just how super anyone will turn out to be. “Hurt Me” by M L N Hanover is the impressive Daniel Abraham pretending to be new author. He asks how a victim might recover her self-respect and the answer is particularly pleasing when it comes to a definition of revenge. This is one of the best short stories of the year (so far).
“Demon Lover” by Cecilia Holland brings us back to the land of the fey where cruelty is routine if you surrender yourself for the sake of illusions. While we are off into distant galaxies with “The Wayfarer’s Advice” by Melinda M Snodgrass. This deals with sad practicalities when the gap in status is just too great to bridge. Even though you might snatch a few selfish moments, the worlds cannot keep on orbiting their suns unless key people are in the right place. Back on the ground, “Blue Boots” by Robin Hobb reminds us that there’s never any guarantee gossip will give you perfect information, nor that jealousy can resist the chance to dispose of a rival. This is a pleasing “straight” historical romance in which the right minstrel can weave magic with words. And, thinking about how words can defend our reputations, “The Thing About Cassandra” by Neil Gaiman wonders who might have invented whom remembering, of course, that the curse on the original Cassandra meant no-one believed what she said about anything important.
Gardner Dozois disguised as one of those cocktails with a stick
“After the Blood” by Marjorie M Liu details how survivors in a post-apocalypse situation might change if the world offered different ways in which we might commune with nature. People of all varieties are often more adaptable than they believe possible. Change, though, can come with a price tag attached. “You, and You Alone” by Jacqueline Carey might be a commitment too far. This is a very good piece of writing, but it reads more as background to, or an extract from, a Kushiel novel than a short story. That said, this is a clever way of talking about the commitments we make in different types of love: as between brother and sister, between lovers, and to children.
“His Wolf” by Lisa Tuttle is another particularly strong story that speculates on the way people bond. This may be as humans when they meet someone they feel is a kindred spirit, or as human to animal where both may change their lifestyles to adapt to each other. This can get more interesting if it becomes a ménage à trois. Returning to outer space, “Courting Trouble” by Linnea Sinclair has us in a more straightforward situation of a police officer seeking just the right moment to confess love. Somehow, the middle of an undercover operation with space canons pointing at you is not necessarily a good time.
“The Demon Dancer” by Mary Jo Putney has odd moments of rather banal magic interwoven into a tapestry of greater abilities. In this case, we have the old May/December relationship problem tinged with the recognition that, after December, comes January and then things are the right way round again. While “Under/Above the Water” by Tanith Lee is a magical tale about reincarnation or the ability of two souls who, feeling destined to be together, manage to transcend time and end together. This is a very clever blend of magic and romance in an SFnal setting.
Coming into the finishing straight, “Kaskia” by Peter S Beagle shows how chatting online can help bring reality into focus. All you need is an incentive to talk and the very act of forming the previously unspoken words, clarifies your thoughts. Beagle really is one of the most consistently readable short story writers working today. “Man in the Mirror” by Yasmine Galenorn produces a nice variation on the old idea of mirrors as a trap for the unwary. In this case, being in love sometimes means you must sacrifice yourself to save another. Finally, “A Leaf on the Wind of All Hallows” by Diana Gabaldon sees the necessary editorial decision to translate British slang into something our transatlantic cousins can understand. I often wonder whether it might not be better to avoid using British English altogether when something is written for the US market. That said, this is a poignant way to end the anthology. Sometimes those who are lost need to hold on to memories just as sailors navigate by the stars. As they travel, they hope. Perhaps they will be in time to save the one they love.
It’s always pleasing to be able to report another excellent anthology. Although there are odd moments when I felt a slight falling away in matter of detail, this has a remarkable consistency of standard. Definitely worth reading!
For reviews of other anthologies by our top editorial team, see: Old Mars, Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance and Warriors.
For an anthology edited by Gardner Dozois on his own, see:
The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Seventh Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Eighth Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Thirtieth Annual Collection.
“The Thing About Cassandra” by Neil Gaiman is a finalist in the 2011 Locus Award for Best Short Story.
Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance edited by George R R Martin and Gardner Dozois
Well, our two grizzled veterans have been at it again. In Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance, George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois have produced another classy anthology for which I can offer the headline that there are no weak links. Every story is significantly better than good.
We need to clear the decks for action as I ready myself to take on another of these heavy-weight books — an almost seven-hundred page behemoth. As an ex-Vance completist, I used to have all the Underwood Miller editions including their first which was, by coincidence, The Dying Earth. What looked rather beautiful in an oversized hardback edition is replicated in this standard trade edition with the pages framed and line illustrations as headers to each story. Frankly, at this scale, it wastes space to no useful purpose. The book would have been slightly lighter and easier to handle had this affectation been eliminated.
Secondly, I’m not sure how to review this anthology. The stories are in homage to Jack Vance who was, by any standards, one of the best of the writers at work from the late 1940s onwards. Jack has magnanimously agreed to allow a new crew to sail in his Dying Earth universe. This is a good thing. If we are denied work from the Old Master, we can see what others can produce in the same setting. So does that mean I’m to produce two scores on the doors? The first as an evaluation of each story on its own merits and then judging how well the story works as a Vance pastiche.
George R R Martin still able to hold up his end of a book
Take the first by the venerable Robert Silverberg to show the problem. ”The True Vintage of Erzuine Thale” is very respectful and worthy. We see how the poet Puillayne reacts when his daily routine of alcoholically-inspired versifying is interrupted by the arrival of Porlocking fans. In spirit, it very positively fits into the Vancean style and, much as we assume Coleridge would have wanted to react, demonstrates what may happen when guests overstep the bounds of social propriety. Except the result is slightly po-faced. In the disposition of the inconsiderate interlopers, I miss Vance’s sly sense of humour. So it’s a very good story in its own right, albeit perhaps slightly too long. But it lacks a key Vancean element. This lack of wit is remedied in “Grolion of Almery” by Matthew Hughes who has been writing in the style of Vance for years and has grown particularly good at it. This story recreates a Cugel-type confrontation in the manse of a Magician proving there’s no problem that cannot be solved with deftness of hand and acuity of mind. The results of the solution are, of course, usually neutral with survival for anyone in Grolion’s position and all spoils of manipulative extravagances lost.
“The Copsy Door” by Terry Dowling captures the magic literally as irony stalks the land like a one-eyed chicken with a limp and takes the prematurely triumphant for a ride. As the sun sets in the Clever Window, it’s always good to look in a mirror and see single become double-crossers before the light fades away. “Caulk the Witch-chaser” by Liz Williams demonstrates the old rule that, if you allow a hard-bitten supernatural writer loose in a fantasy land, you get unexpectedly tough results. This has a harder edge that would usually be associated with Vance, but it’s sufficiently good we can enjoy it anyway as a piece of real estate becomes vacant at an opportune time with a wedding in the air. “Inescapable” by Mike Resnick obeys another of Vance’s laws — that everyone who insists on having his own way, gets his just deserts. It’s not so much that selfishness is punished, but that a refusal to listen to wise advice usually presages disaster. The converse of this is found in “Abrizonde” by Walter Jon Williams. Here an unfortunate architectural student finds himself in a jam but, with the help of his madling Hegadil, he contrives not only to survive, but also to prosper. It was ever the way in Vance where the cautious prevail.
Gardner Dozois demonstrates the ancient art of writing
Even at my advanced age, it’s always a pleasure to encounter someone new. In “The Traditions of Karzh”, Paula Volsky produces a delightful story which reminds us all that, if a person is realistic and maximises his endeavours within the physical and intellectual limitations with which he was born, he’s set for life. If change does become possible, it’s simply in the means with which he can pursue his own interests. Jeff VanderMeer’s approach is not so much as to wander off the Vance reservation as to redefine it in ways rather more phantasmagorical. In the wildly entertaining “The Final Quest of the Wizard Sarnod”, two servants must survive the Underhind to rescue two prisoners. Except they find themselves endangered as fishes out of water in this strange world.
“The Green Bird” by Kage Baker offers another adventure for Cugel who was never one to be slow in coming forward when the prospect of riches is in the offing. He finds there’s more than meets the eye in the titular bird and unlike the bird that draws blood with his beak, Cugel bites off more than he can chew. “The Last Golden Thread” by Phllis Eisenstein has a young man learn that, sometimes, you have to give up the past birds to recognise the bird in the hand. While Elizabeth Moon takes us racing in “An Incident in Uskvesk” where we find good things can come in small packages if you have the right motivation and a good depilatory cream. Lucius Shephard‘s “Sylgarmo’s Proclamation” reunites us with Cugel at a towering moment with the death of the sun imminent.
Tad Williams warns us in “The Lamentably Comical Tragedy” that even magicians serving suspension can be dangerous when provoked, while the Captain’s advice offered by Sir Henry Newbolt remains just as true today as when it was first written, “Play up! Play up! and play the game!” In “Guyal the Curator”, John C. Wright reminds us that disinterested intelligence underpins great investigative work. Honour satisfied may mean a form of contract or bargain between two people, but the availability and application of knowledge have the greatest value when the poor benefit, i.e. wisdom should be tempered by compassion. But, in “The Good Magician”, Glen Cook suggests that wisdom can be abused by those with selfish motives. Sometimes only the innocent should be allowed access to higher powers.
Which, of course, begs the question of what constitutes innocence. Can anyone with magical abilities ever be considered truly innocent? Morality is always flexible if one person may exert covert influence over another. So, “In the Return of the Fire Witch”, Elizabeth Hand would have us consider whether, even under duress, one witch should help another exterminate a malevolent ruling clan. “The Collegeum of Mauge” Byron Tetrick produces one of those causal loops in which time ill-spent by Cugel becomes the means of his rescue from the Spell of Forlorn Encystment. In Tanith Lee‘s “Evillo the Uncunning”, our hero finds his empty head apparently full of useful skills when he agrees to assist a snail. However, it may not be so convenient if this should become a more permanent arrangement, particularly if his name is known. And then when it comes to knowledge, what better place to find it than in a library, except to find the texts in readable form you need, “The Guiding Nose of Ulfant Banderoz” by Dan Simmons. This is wonderful peregrination halfway around the world without worrying how to get back. Such are the plans of mice and men. Included within these plans is the need for a librarian or, if the establishment is more a museum, then a curator. Recruiting such men at the end of the world is a challenge as Howard Waldrop explains in “Frogskin Hat”.
“A Night At the Tarn House” by George R R Martin shows an establishment that has given up its pursuit of a Michelin star, except when it comes to serving out deserts. Finally, “An Invocation of Incuriosity” by Neil Gaiman demonstrates the need to ensure you have everything you need when you evacuate from the end of the world.
All in all, Songs of the Dying Earth: Stories in Honor of Jack Vance is a double-plus-good book, crammed to the rafters with excellence from writers all fantastical.
For reviews of other anthologies edited by the dynamic duo, see Old Mars, Warriors and Songs of Love and Death.
For anthologies edited by Gardner Dozois on his own, see: The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Seventh Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Eighth Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Thirtieth Annual Collection.
For the autobiography of Jack Vance, see This is me, Jack Vance!
Warriors edited by George R R Martin and Gardner Dozois
I find this anthology something of a conundrum. At the editorial helm stand two very distinguished individuals who may properly be labelled as pre-eminently working in the science fiction and fantasy genres. It may therefore be a not-unreasonable expectation that any book jointly edited by them would be stuffed to the rafters with science fiction and fantasy stories. But this is not the case at all. Surprisingly, the majority of stories are historical without any obvious fantasy or horror elements. In this respect, I was somewhat saddened by my decision to buy. I don’t usually read so many non-sf, fantasy or horror stories.
“The King of Norway” by Cecelia Holland is a “straight” historical reconstruction of fighting between feuding groups of Vikings in old Norseland. It strings out the prebattle boasting and swearing of loyalty oaths, to the sea battle and its aftermath. The problem is one of scale. The author is overambitious and she includes too many characters and plot lines. It’s impossible to resolve all these threads at this length. As a novel, with time to get to know the characters, it could be interesting. At this length, I found it boring and tedious. Robin Hobb has the scale right in “The Triumph”. It’s essentially the story of the relationship between two men set against the background of the Punic Wars, making simple statements about loyalty and honour. I thought the decision to feature the snake surprising and distracting. No matter whether it’s realistic, it did nothing to enhance primary thrust of the story. Steven Saylor’s The Eagle and the Rabbit” is set after the fall of Carthage and manages to avoid sentimentality in describing the campaign to round up the Carthaginian stragglers. But it lacks originality.
Joe R. Lansdale is rather better as he weighs in with “Soldierin’” which captures some of the racial tensions and practical fighting by the Buffalo Soldiers. This is a taut and economical story, told with characteristic dry wit. “The Scroll” by David Ball is equally pleasing with a sadistic Emperor of Morocco building a great new monument to his own importance using captured French soldiers and engineers. This would sit comfortably in a fantasy anthology although I take it to be “historical” in its intent. It beautifully captures the despair of the architect as victim of the psychological games played by his captor. While Diana Gabaldon’s “Custom of the Army” has us watch the British take Quebec. This is the most engaging of the historical stories with an interesting hero, delightfully electrified and beset by circumstances. What sets it apart from the majority of the other stories in the anthology is a real sense of irony — somewhat unusual in an American author.
Moving into more modern times, “Ninieslando” by Howard Waldrop has a different take on the “truth” about No-Man’s Land between the trenches in WWI. I doubt it would be possible to create a Utopia in this unforgiving place. Worse, the morality of its ghoulish occupants is unbelievable. I suggest anyone with any sense would relocate to Switzerland and wait for the warriors to run out of steam. Living in relative luxury by scavenging on the dead and stealing from the living hardly shows them in a good light. “The Girls From Avenger” by Carrie Vaughn moves on to the next war with women delivering planes during WWII. The tone is feeble. Even if the plot does reflect the dangerous hostility culturally demanded from the male pilots, it lacks any real sense of authorial outrage. Although there were some excesses to the feminism of thirty years ago, it did at least challenge the reader to acknowledge the injustices suffered by women. Ms Vaughn seems to think we can brush a homicide under the carpet and buy her heroine’s silent complicity by offering her a better job. This is so far post feminism as to be depressing. In “My Name Is Legion” (an unnecessary pun) David Morrell has a rather more interesting view of honour in the unfortunate necessity for factions in the French Foreign Legion to fight each other during WWII. This is gritty and nicely captures the difficulties when loyalties are tested.
Lawrence Block’s “Clean Slate” is a perfectly respectable serial killer story. I’m just not at all sure how or why it is included. How can this campaign make her a warrior? That goes double for “The Pit” by James Rollins. I can recall reading this type of story as a coming-of-age adventure using the boy’s POV. Reinventing it from the dog’s POV as a warrior does little to improve a hackneyed idea.
“Forever Bound” by Joe Haldeman moves into my preferred reading territory with a more interesting consideration of how team-building could develop as technology allows ever-greater sharing of thought. But the idea it would take ten people to run an armored fighting machine is somewhat absurd. It makes the co-ordination between the minds unnecessarily complicated and would only be justified as redundant systems if you really expect significant losses from the group mind. Two couples would have made the point. Nevertheless, it manages to get to a coherent end by distinguishing the literal chemistry of the linked humans and the real emotions of the civilian lovers. Naomi Novik’s “Seven Year’s From Home” has us playing in the sandbox of managed destabilisation as our heroine encourages ever greater military effort from “her” side in the conflict. It nicely personalises and inverts the old adage “si vis pacem, para bellum”. The original Latin means, “If you wish for peace, prepare for war.” In this story, we see a conflict encouraged between an aggressive nation and an essentially peaceful, but technologically advanced, people. Unfortunately, our agent provocateur has no real control over “her” side’s ability to turn its technology to war. When the dust settles, our heroine’s actions inspire a world-weary response from her bosses. David Weber’s “Out of the Dark” is a wonderful alien invasion story. Frankly, I realised the possible resolution quite early, but never thought he would have the nerve to do it. It’s a delight to find an author and editors prepared to take a flexible view on genres (it also explains the incredulity of the losing aliens)*.
“And Ministers of Grace” by Tad Williams is a pleasing variation on the infiltrator assassin theme with our driven hero sent to kill the leader of an opposing philosophical group. If you strip away the technology, it follows in the footsteps of Condon’s Manchurian Candidate by asking what would happen if the programmed assassin is allowed to think for himself. “Dirae” by Peter S. Beagle sees us skating on the edge of graphic novel/comic book vigilante territory without losing sight of the importance of real storytelling. This is a particularly pleasing piece of writing as our heroine struggles to understand who or what she is. In “Ancient Ways”, S.M. Stirling has us in a post-apocalypse version of the Steppes. It’s always interesting to watch the predictions authors make about the fault lines along which societies might fracture. In this case, it’s reasonable to suppose the old tribalism would reassert itself and it’s a nice touch to flirt with gender issues as the damsel in distress turns out to be a closet chemist who can throw together weapons with a test tube and bunsen burner. Gardner Dozois puts the mantle of editorship to one side to contribute “Recidivist” — another post-apocalypse story. This time, the Earth has been overtaken by its own inventiveness as AIs assert independence and, with due frivolity, undertake a planetary redesign. Not the most original of plots but well executed. Robert Silverberg’s “Defenders of the Frontier” watches the end of an Empire with a dispassionate eye. The men debate whether to hold their position or, with no apparent enemy to defend against, withdraw to some nearby outpost of civilisation. Finally, George Martin lays down his editorial burden and offers “The Mystery Knight”. Now I remember why I bought this book. You plough through all the rest to get to this latest instalment from the world of Song of Ice and Fire. This is a terrific read with one slight regret. Despite their lack of height, I would have preferred to see more of the comic dwarfs.
Overall, the decision whether to buy this 730-page monster will depend on your view of the authors collected. If you like historical fiction with a few science fiction and fantasy asides thrown in, this is for you. Otherwise it’s a not inexpensive way of buying the latest from Robert Silverberg, Peter Beagle and George Martin — not forgetting David Weber’s contribution which was the surprise winner of my “favourite” story competition. Finally, I admit a small victory for the editors in that I’m slightly tempted to look at one of Diana Gabaldon’s novels. If one of the purposes of anthologies like these is to introduce you to “new” authors, this is as good a taster as you can get.
*David Weber has now expanded the novella into a full novel. Here is the review of Out of the Dark.
The dynamic duo has now produced an anthology in celebration of Jack Vance: Songs of the Dying Earth, a second on the theme of star-crossed love: Songs of Love and Death, and a third set on a pulp version of Mars: Old Mars.
For anthologies edited by Gardner Dozois on his own, see:
The Year’s Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Seventh Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Eighth Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Ninth Annual Collection
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Thirtieth Annual Collection.
The anthology itself and “The Mystery Knight” by George R R Martin are finalists in the 2011 Locus Award for Best Anthology and Novella respectively. “The Mystery Knight” is also nominated in the Best Novella category for the 2011 World Fantasy Awards.
Thinking about books 