A Dance with Dragons [review]

by George R.R. Martin

Not all men are meant to dance with dragons.
Ser Barristan Selmy (Page 1003)

The stories I liked the most in this novel were those about Jon and Daenerys, not because of what happens (that is not so much for a while) but because both of them are two kids on whose shoulders was put the weight of the world and with hard work and pain they're trying to do the right thing. Also, I loved the Theon's story. I still dislike the character, but in this book he goes through a lot of bad things, and made such an evolution that I loved his chapters. If this book had been half as long, I would have liked it more, it would have been more engaging from the beginning to the end and I'd have given him 5 stars, no doubts. The problem is that despite the fact that this book irritated me for about 500 pages, I can't give it less than four stars, and even if it'll be twice as long I can't wait to read the next (and I know that unfortunately I'll have to wait a lot of time!!!).

Quotes

The night was rank with the smell of man.

[incipit]

"I used to think that it got cold up in the Dornish Marches. What did I know?"

Nothing, thought jon Snow, the same as me.

At the Wall

(Page 56)

Jon: It always cold on the Wall.

Melisandre: You think so?

Jon: I know so, my lady.

Melisandre: Than you know nothing, Jon Snow.

(Page 65)

"This is no game we're playing for your amusement."

Of course it is, thought Tyrion. The game of thrones.

(Page 133)

"Should you reach your queen, give her a message from the slaves of Old Volantis." She touched the faded scar upon her wrinkled cheek, where her tears had been cut away. "Tell her we are waiting. Tell her to come soon."

The Widow of the waterfront to Jorah Mormont and Tyrion

(Page 408)

A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.

Jojen Reed

(Page 495)

Things can change quickly in the game of thrones.

Doran Martell

(Page 563)

Edd l'Addolorato: The air is so cold it hurts to breathe. I would stop, but that would hurt worse. [...] This is going to end badly.

Jon: You say that of everything.

Edd l'Addolorato: Aye, m'lord. Usually I'm right.

(Page 567)

A shadow rippled across his face.

The tumult and the shouting died. Ten thousand voices stilled. Every eye turned skyward. A warm wind brushed Dany's cheeks, and above the beating of her heart she heard the sound of wings. Two spearmen dashed for shelter. The pitmaster froze where he stood. The boar went snuffling back to Barsena. [...]

Above them all the dragon turned, dark against the sun. His scales were black, his eyes and horns and spinal plates blood red. Ever the largest of her three, in the wild Drogon had grown larger still. His wings stretched twenty feet from tip to tip, black as jet. He flapped them once as he swept back above the sands, and the sound was like a clap of thunder.

(Pages 762-63)

Daenerys Targaryen vaulted onto the dragon's back [...]. Drogon twisted under her, his muscles rippling as he gathered his strength. The air was thick with sand. Dany could not see, she could not breathe, she could not think. The black wings cracked like thunder, and suddenly the scarlet sands were falling away beneath her.

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets.

[...] She [...] cried, "Higher!" Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon's wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY!

(Pages 765-66)

Jon: We have a good day for this, it would seem. A bright day, warm and sunny.

Edd l'Addolorato: The Wall will weep. And winter almost on us. It's unnatural, m'lord. A bad sign, you ask me.

Jon: And if it were to snow?

Edd l'Addolorato: A worse sign.

Jon: What sort of weather would you prefer?

Edd l'Addolorato: The sort they keep indoors.

(Page 844)

The Drowned God did not answer. He seldom did. That was the trouble with gods.

(Page 901)

They were all around him, half a dozen of them, white faced children with dark eyes, boys and girls together.

And in their hands, the daggers