Over the month of December, I read the five books that have been written thus far in the Game of Thrones series by George R.R. Martin. I hesitated to start the series due to it's size (about 4800 pages), it's genre (fantasy is not my favorite), and some lewdness. But there are few better ways to maintain your spirits on a deployment than by reading engrossing fiction. And, aside from the accolades lavished on the HBO series based on the books, they had garnered attention from South Park, which provides the most sophisticated political and social satire in pop culture today, and careful dissection within the pages of Modern Reformation, which is perhaps the greatest organ of confessional Reformed thought.
As an initial caveat, this book is not appropriate for teenagers, or perhaps even unmarried young adults. There are enough explicit scenes to prove mentally/morally/spiritually unhealthy for those who have yet to cradle their love and desires within the safe confines of marriage.
This series is certainly one the best fiction series of the past decade. Martin has the unique ability, like Tolkein, Lewis, Rowling, Collins, etc. to create a believable and compelling imaginative world and populate it with relatable and developing characters. My wife has reminded me to not compare these modern writers to Tokien and Lewis without adding the obvious qualifier that the actual quality of the writing is far inferior, but I would argue that could describe most any artist endeavor today.
I would argue the most important feature of great fiction is the ability to construct a world that the reader can live in. In this respect, Martin lacks the sophistication and comprehension of Tolkien, and the compelling storytelling of Rowling. But he exceeds them both in his development of characters. I think Tolkien's brilliance likes more in the whole, while his characters can tend to be a bit vanilla. Rowling is somewhat better in this respect. Martin's characters, in good postmodern fashion, are incredibly complex. "Good" characters make disappointing decisions; "Bad" characters sometime make noble decisions and evoke empathy.
Rather that digging deep on any particular topic within this massive series, I will simply highlight a few pertinent themes are worth thinking over during the course of your reading.
Portrait of God and spirituality. As with the real world, Martin's world is dominated by a diverse array of religions with pious adherents as well as skeptics. He does not mock the supernatural--there clearly is power exhibited by these "gods." And he draws from Christian categories to compose many of these gods. One religion is vigorously monotheistic, insisting that there are no other gods but the "God of light," and believes power comes with the sacrifice of those with royal blood. But there is a dark, murderous edge to this religion. Another religion centers around "the Seven"--the father, mother, maiden, warrior, etc. The language here parallels much of Trinitarian language, but unlike the Trinity, devolves into polytheism. Another group, holds to the "old gods," which is reminiscent of traditional Christianity's stability, but is also blatantly pantheistic (the gods tend to exist in all things, including the trees). At the end of the day, the valuation of each of these religions lends itself to universalism, in which no religion is either right or wrong. This brand of theology goes hand in hand with the present spirit of the age.
Love, marriage, and sexuality. There is a sharp bifurcation between each of these concepts. Marriage is a matter of duty and must often be borne as a yoke more than enjoyed. Sexuality is most often displayed in jaunts of illicit lust and taking hold of the forbidden fruit. Somewhere, in the vast fogginess between love and sexuality, one finds love. At times, this vague, ambiguous concept is attached firmly to the commitment and loyalty of marriage; At other times, it tackily-tied to the whims of brute sexuality. Rarely is love attached to marriage and sexuality. Even more rarely does it draw the two together as they are meant to be. Love unites marriage and sexuality, placing the exotic adventures of the latter upon the solid terrain of the former. But the dissolution of these bonds are again endemic of the age, with a resulting vacuity in meaning in relationships.
Despair and hope. One of my quirky criteria for a great story is that a key, beloved character must die. The lack of this element proved to be one of the few flaws in the masterful finale of the Harry Potter series. In the real world, the bad guys aren't the only ones who die, nor is it simply the middling characters of considerable moral stature. Instead, heroes die, often through seemingly meaningless circumstances, with no opportunity for valor. This reality pervades Game of Thrones. I have heard it said that it is a good thing that there so many beloved characters, because so many of them die. And many of the deaths are not noble, nor is it relegated to the men fighting the wars, but to the women and children as well. While the sheer amount of treachery seems a bit too much, this series rightly handles war in all of its ugliness.
But brokenness is not the only mark of reality, nor is it final. In the soil of the most unimaginable chaos and evil in human history, one often finds buds of civilization, love, and life. When war is over, soldiers lay down their weapons and fight with love (hence, the baby boom). They know there is more power in creating and sustaining life than in taking it. In Game of Thrones, the brokenness vastly outweighs the hope, moral courage is often regarded as naivete, and the pinpricks of light are quickly swallowed again by darkness. This again reflects the postmodern milieu that we currently live within. People are less illuminated by a hollow utopianism, but left disillusioned by the brokenness left in it's wake. And instead of reaching out for hope and meaning beyond themselves, they go inward, and consequently, find the same brokenness of the world within their own hearts.
Beyond the great wall that preserves his world in Game of Thrones, Martin finds zombie-like creatures that in a state of undead limbo, wreak havoc upon the living. Beyond the seas, Martin finds dragons who will subdue mankind with their fire. Within the citadels, he finds naught but conspiracy and intrigue.
When I look beyond the walls of comfort, I see a God who is able and willing to save. When I look beyond the seas of fallen human comprehension, I see a Savior who came not to subdue but to serve and give His life as a ransom for many. When I look within the citadel of my own heart, I find intrigue and treachery within my own fallen nature, but look to a Lord not only enthroned over this world but in my heart as well, guiding me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
Game of Thrones is aptly titled because truth and moral conviction seems but a means to acquiring the throne and power to rule, and the competition of these truths and convictions becomes but a game in which the "little people" are but helpless, victimized pawns. While we don't know the end game of Martin's series, we do know the end game for human history, when Christ will formally take His throne and takes the "little people," who by grace through faith in Him counted all things rubbish for the sake of knowing Him, and will draw them into His everlasting glory.
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