Stark Realities

Unless you've spent the last two years patrolling a two hundred foot ice wall on the edge of a haunted forest, the chances are that you have at least heard of George R R Martin's fantasy magnum opus A Song of Ice & Fire, or its television adaptation Game of Thrones. And I'll be honest: if you really do believe that you've spent the last two years patrolling a two hundred foot ice wall on the edge of a haunted forest, then it's only because you lost all grip on reality in those unforgettable opening moments of Martin's epic tale.

Since the premiere of the TV series in 2011, this saga of a brutal power struggle in the mythical land of Westeros has evolved from a cult hit to become a major cultural touchstone of the decade so far. Until its popularity wanes, expect many a fancy dress party filled with Dothraki and Bloody Mummers, and maternity wards up and down the country to fill with little Tyrions, Aryas, Brans and Sansas. But where has this sudden obsession sprung from? Why are we investing such passion in the travails of fictional figures in a pseudo-medieval world?

Difficult to tell, really. After all, the driving force of the plot is two irreconcilable forces vying for control of a kingdom. On the one hand you have House Lannister: a bunch of obscenely wealthy arseholes, constantly hatching despicable plans to increase their own power, and indulging in all manner of sexual perversions behind closed doors. Yes, that's right; the Lannisters are the Tory Party of Westeros. In opposition to them are the quintessential Labour voters, House Stark: principally located in the North, clinging to outdated notions of honour and decency, and obsessed with the fact that winter is coming (after all, those fuel bills don't get any cheaper). As if that wasn't enough, beyond the Wall in the cold northern wastes, hordes of people are determined to be independent from the rest of the kingdoms.

Yes, it's tremendously hard to see what relevance this story could possibly have for people in the UK in 2013.

Of course, there are other dimensions to the great game of thrones. Up in the land beyond the Wall, the dead are coming back to life (those deep-fried Mars bars may put you in an early grave, but they evidently don't keep you there). Meanwhile, across the sea, the last princess of the line that once ruled Westeros is making it her life's work to reclaim her family's crown from the Lannisters, the Starks, and the numerous other warring houses (and I for one dearly hope she stays well clear of fast cars and tunnels in Paris). But though the multiple plot lines that snake through the novels may seem daunting, you experience them from the perspectives of a cast of characters whose own lives and fates are entwined in the wider events; crucially, they're characters you can't help but care about, whether it's because you want them safe or you want them dead. Some of them are, quite literally, bastards. Some are decent people trying to do what's right, and more often than not, they're the ones who are made to suffer in an absurdly cruel world. A work of fantasy it may be, but under that veneer exists a very grim and timeless reality.

Of course, it won't be long before our politicians catch on to the phenomenon of A Song of Ice & Fire, and start making reference to it as part of their never-ending quest to appear cool and relevant to the rest of us. To be honest, I'd welcome this; for instance, Ed Miliband's leadership of the Labour Party couldn't be any worse for taking some lessons from Eddard Stark, the noble lord of Winterfell. In fact, the all-new Eddard Miliband may actually inspire some confidence in the nation, once he's grown a beard and started delivering all of his speeches in an irritable growl. Plus, the policy of personally decapitating those who bring disgrace on the House will make for quite a sight outside party headquarters the next time Ed Balls accidentally tweets his own name. (Of course, if Eddard Miliband should fail, we could always go to plan B and stick Sean Bean in charge of the Labour Party. To be honest, I'm already struggling to work out why that isn't plan A.)

If you haven't already embarked on the visceral journey through Martin's world, either by way of the novels or the HBO adaptation, then I strongly urge you to give in to the hype and buckle yourself in for the ride. As a nation, we have a long history of embracing tales of heroes and monsters, from Beowulf to Bilbo Baggins, and Ice & Fire continues that tradition in fine style. Until our very own Daenerys Targaryen comes sweeping down from the sky to do something about the Starks and Lannisters in Parliament, have yourself an enjoyable month or two seeing it unfold a world away.

(This review, written by me, also appears on my mate Tom's excellent book blog).