There's likely nothing I could say about A Game of Thrones that hasn't already been said before. Over the last 18 or so years, since the initial publication of this work (the first in Martin's long and astoundingly popular fantasy series, A Song of Ice and Fire), it has grown increasingly favored by nerds and soccer moms alike. No doubt, this is largely due to the huge success of the HBO series, which shares the name of this first novel (sans the "A"). So yes, I am late to hop on the bandwagon and, yes, I did watch the series first. Strangely, though, this hasn't detracted from my enjoyment of the book; knowing what was coming may have even added to the tense sense of anticipation that Martin creates. With every dramatic revelation, sprinkled sparingly amongst hundreds of pages of wonderful detail and engrossing dialogue, I felt I was discovering these characters afresh, coming to better understand their nuanced motivations, their dastardly plots. 

Tywin, Tyrion, Cersei, and Joff are somehow even more diabolical than their filmic counterparts. Dany comes across as sweeter at first (maybe because of her tender, younger age, a feature common to all the child players here; they are depicted as being much older in the series), though by the final pages of the novel she is steelier and more resolved than in the TV program. Too, the scenery of the Seven Kingdoms—and the Wall, and the lands north thereof—is so clearly related that I'm tempted to rewatch the series, if only to flaunt my new understanding of Martin's geography.

Original review posted on Goodreads, 5/5 Stars.