Issue #127

January 21st, 2008

    
I’ve had this urge to reread A Feast for Crows for some time, and I‘ve finally decided to do so, but in limited spurts as I have other projects at BookSpot Central to ‘manage’, and have other reading I want to get to that’s a bit more current. I decided since I’m going to do this, I may as well do a little mini-feature within Jan-ken-pon, and do a chapter-by-chapter walkthrough as I go along. The question is why start at A Feast For Crows? Well one, I’ve been doing this awhile now and I recognize my own penchant (weakness) in the need to cover all corners either blatantly or ambiguously (mostly to entertain myself) and if I started with A Game of Thrones I know it would be mired in overview and framing. If you choose to read this it is most likely that you’ve read A Feast for Crows or you are at least through the first three books, and this feature will be written with that assumption being regarded as truth. It also seems to be the least well-regarded of the series, which when compared to the first 3 books is not a slight in itself. I don’t disagree with the notion, but there are several aspects to the book that I really enjoyed, and I’m intrigued if they still strike me in a positive manner. I also have no doubt forgotten quite a bit as well, but there is joy in stumbling and rediscovery.

What this will not be is an attempt to dig up every minor clue in the text – either that I’m aware of or not. Several fine contributors at the Westeros forums have done so in a manner that would me doing so obsolete and redundant. You can go there and on numerous subjects find 50 possible stories as fantastic and as half-baked as origins of Killer the dog, and 50 more that are incredibly astute, and thought provoking possibilities. The series itself is brilliant in that it lends to so much discussion about the happenings in the series – not author tirades or lifestyle. Also I will not, or rather cannot, ignore what I know, in that I’ve obviously read the book before. I won’t hold back possible spoilers later in the book when confronted with bait that I know to be true earlier in the book. That said, while a huge fan of the series, I am not somebody who follows every (or even most) of the things Martin has ever said in any reading, signing, taxi ride, or has mumbled in his dreams about the series. A lot of that, again, is wonderfully available online. I have read some of them, so in not at all claiming anything remotely close to original insight, but this will be a mish-mash of things I see or know; be it from the original reading, past forum lurkage, and even some (years ago) advanced chapter reading available online that give more to the text here. I apologize, I didn’t catalog all of this as I read them! Some aspects of the series are blatantly obvious (like Loras being a homosexual), others not so much, and I’m sure I got from elsewhere in the past. This will merely be what comes to mind as I reread A Feast for Crows now. Regarding how ‘regular’ of a feature this will be, all I can say is I have no firm schedule. It will definitely be more than once a month, but I could have 1 in a week or 5; it’s just whenever I get a chance to do them. The length of the pieces themselves will vary as well. I don’t mean for this thing to get out of hand. Simple and manageable are the key terms here! I want to welcome any correction or theories, as I’m trying to pump myself up for the next book to! Enough gibberish, on with it:

We get a decent look at Oldtown and our understanding/map of Westeros gets a bit clearer. One, it’s where future Maester’s get their chains. Two, we know that Oldtown is a place of wealth ruled by the Hightowers; sworn bannermen to High Garden and the Tyrells, as Mace Tyrell’s wife is actually the daughter of Leyton Hightower, the current who ruler of Oldtown. The power of High Garden is something well mentioned in the series so I always found it interesting that they are so ‘successful’ to this point in the war even as their what is described as a powerful portion of their power doesn’t involve itself in the War of the Five Kings. When considering the bulk of High Garden’s bannermen overall, they definitely have something to admire (Kevan Lannister remarks on this later), and the glimpse at Oldtown only reinforces that idea. One of the lines that always stuck to me (and I can’t recall where) was ‘”the chivalry of the South” (perhaps Renly mentioned this to Catelyn – or maybe it was one of Rob Stark’s banner man at his war council) referencing to what a player they were and you really start feeling that point. Even with Catelyn’s Stark opinion of them when parlaying with Renly as “knights of summer”, you get the idea that a Lannister/Tyrell union should be almost insurmountable, but as we know that very alliance is threatening to crumble before our eyes.

We are introduced to several maesters in training, and one of them is Alleras, dubbed “the Sphinx”. Very early in the publication of this novel, many reader put together the possibility that this is actually Sarella, one of the Sand Snakes – the name given to the late Prince Oberyn’s (of Dorne) bastard daughters, disguised as a male. We of course are given that name to reference later in this very novel, and there are passages that at least leave open the possibility. Alleras had Dornish features, has wealth in terms the bow he uses, and will say phrases that perhaps somebody of House Targaryen or aligned with might be more prone to say – “the Dragon has three heads”. Martin also leaves it (in-chapter) to debate though, as it is noted that Alleras received his copper link (to his Maester chain) which is for history. It seems a very likely reality though as a Sphinx tends to be female. We also here of a certain maester, dubbed “Marwyn the Mage” who seems to be that archetype for a member of an organization that now points to more science, that has his eyes on the more fantastic elements of the world – the occult, magic – the practices that are represented by a Valaryian link. Readers know that the once very mundane Westeros has steadily been seeing more and more examples of mystical/magical happenstance occurring as the series has progressed. We start seeing Dany becoming a center of a storm, but oddly one that draws people to it. I’ve always found myself a bit if a Targaryen loyalist, and I credit Martin’s decisions on how much he allows us to know about Rhaegar for that. Because of this I love identifying characters who were loyal to the Dragons, and that’s why Mollander caught my attention. That Rhaegar is only really spoken negatively of by Robert speaks volumes to me. Even Ned‘s remarks don’t seem venomous, and even suggests a piety to his character. This is why any Jon Connington angle in the series just draws me, and there is of course more revealed in late chapters as to Dorne’s long game.

There is also the issue of the faceless man at the end of the chapter the “alchemist’. I remember that it always troubled me as the encounter with Pate seemed so clumsily written, or at the very least awkward. It always bothered me as Martin is a rather precise writer (look at his short fiction for that) and I remember lurking the board at Westeros and being very satisfied with the answer/theory that a Faceless man can only kill and take the identity of the admitted guilty – a very significant tidbit (which I learned afterwards) that definitely adds to previous run-ins with faceless men, and makes that dialogue make much more sense. It just seemed impossible that Martin would stumble in his prologues, that you can tell generally get extra care (due to what/when they tend to cover).

There is also this bringing-back-to-earth pacing decision Martin makes. Make no mistake, A Storm of Swords is the finest epic fantasy has ever been written. We see growing action, we see the fantastic coming back, we see war raging, but Martin hits up with a first chapter that begins with a mediocre individual who is infatuated with a barmaid named “Rosey”. Amidst all that is going on, Martin reminds us that their are simple ambitions, and basic emotions going on in his world, and I’d suggest it may be a call back to Sam Gamgee’s “Rosie”.

All in all (with the benefit of some hindsight) the prologue is definitely full of information, and in a scattered manner like pieces to different puzzles. We see more signs of magic returning, more rumors of Dany reaching Westeros, a Sandsnake in disguise, a clue to the nature of the Faceless men, more on Oldtown in general, all of which speaks to one of the strengths of A Feast for Crows that ironically enough perhaps aided it (along with publishing truths) in being the most disjointed of the books thus far. It’s the variety of locales. That’s not to say that the other books were exclusively featured in one or two back-drops, but the fourth book did seem less centralized. In the end it’s an example of what’s becoming a classic mold for a Martin chapter. A chapter that’s full of information as you read the chapter itself, with more secrets to be unlocked in it as you read on. When moving or cleaning the house do you ever find that key ring you don’t entirely remember that you should own that have like a half dozen keys on them? You recognize one is from a car you haven’t owned in a decade, but the rest you can’t place. Each of Martin’s chapter offers one such ring, and you ask to yourself “who are you?” The answer is so enticing, that the fact that you get one is lost.

A Stranger. No One. Truly.

    
_{Jan-ken-pon is the time traveling, force-walking, multiverse crossing column of Jay Tomio, owner of 1/3 of everything you see currently on screen and the editor of Heliotrope. His dragon has 3 heads. Some call him the Bodhisattva.}