Generally I don't recommend that readers of what particular author try another until I know exactly what appeals to them in the work of the first. This is going to be an exemption.
I'd like to recomend a British mini-series called "House of Cards". Made in 1991, it focuses on Francis Urqhart, the Conservative Party's chief whip. When the previous Prime Minister (shown to be Margaret Thatcher) resigns, a leadership contest is held. Urqhart, who has no aspirations to the Premiership himself knows his support will be important and chooses to support Henry Collingridge, in the expectation of a senior ministerial position and influence in the new government. But when he is denied this, in favour maintaining an unchanged cabinet, a decision Urqhart sees as ill-advised both in terms of party image and actual policy he begins a ruthless back-room campaign to bring down the Prime Minister and set himself in Collingridge's place.
What makes the series so impressive, and, potentially, so appealing to Martin readers is the naked analysis of an almost feudal power system, in which patronage, blackmail, intimidation and sometimes outright gullibility play their part in an ever shifting landscape of loyalties.
Although the series is set as a melodrama it has remarkable emotional and philosophical complexities. Urqhart is not merely seeking power for power's sake, but because he believes he would be a better PM than Collingridge or any of the other contenders. The personal betrayal and political differences are interwoven.
In the Shakespearean style Urqhart frequently addresses himself to the audience, inviting them to join him in his plotting. Indeed, Urqhart, despite his ruthlessness, and dare I say his age?, is a charming character; witty, attractive and intellectually gifted.
Shakespearean references abound. These range from the obvious, (early on, in conversation with his wife, he sincerely dismisses any Prime Ministerial ambition by saying mockingly "Glamis, Cawdor, and king hereafter?") to the more subtle. Although they are drawn principally from MacBeth and Richard III they range more widely, as do references to other classics.
Insofar as it's possible to, this show captures the feel of feudal politics in the modern age. Ministers are Lords, MPs their retainers and the PM, King. Newspapers, media companies and skilled publicity officers are mercenaries for hire, to be rewarded with prestige and Honours. Each has their own specific price, their strengths and weaknesses and limits to their loyalty. I heartily recomend it, especially to those Martin fans who enjoyed reading about Kings Landing, the battles in the Small Council and the Red Keep.
A few notes:
The series was originally based on a novel of the same name. This is generally regarded as hugely inferior, and I speak as someone who loves novels. The ending is different, many of the ancillary plots cliched and unexciting, indeed the sub-plot that is considered by some to be so original and powerful as to dwarf the main plan is absent from the novel, which instead follows the cliche the TV series so ruthlessly avoided. Worst of all Urqhart, far from being an erudite charmer is a vulgar bully.
The series led to two sequels (To Play the King, and The Final Cut) both of which are, in their way, inferior to the original. To Play the King is perhaps the weakest of the three, though still head and shoulders above most other television. It lacks the depth given to the first series which was intercut with low angle establishing shots featuring rats knawing in garbage, fighting and generally scurrying about. It also lack the originality of the first one: the plot is, essentially, a re-tread of House of Cards. Nevertheless, it is still intelligent, and there is enough evidence of new thought in it to make it powerfully compelling viewing. It's comments on the role of a constitutional monarchy are more involved and subtle than I've ever seen in a regular news or current affairs show. And if it is a criticism to say it apes the plot of House of Cards, that is perhaps the most complimentary criticism I have ever given. The third series, The Final Cut, has more depth than To Play the King, but less than House of Cards. It makes up for this with a powerfully original plot, and considerable breadth, being the most epic of the three. It is also the most philosophically conventional, as the dichomoty of Urqhart as idealistic and ruthless, charming and malovolent is reduced and the man becomes more heartless and brutal, possibly as a sop to audiences who were increasingly unwilling to make the leap of sophistication necessary to encompass the more mature character development of the first two series.
Finally, it should be noted that the showing of the first episode coincided with the real life removal of Margaret Thatcher from power, an event that was regarded as an absurd impossibility when the series was written and filmed.
I'd like to recomend a British mini-series called "House of Cards". Made in 1991, it focuses on Francis Urqhart, the Conservative Party's chief whip. When the previous Prime Minister (shown to be Margaret Thatcher) resigns, a leadership contest is held. Urqhart, who has no aspirations to the Premiership himself knows his support will be important and chooses to support Henry Collingridge, in the expectation of a senior ministerial position and influence in the new government. But when he is denied this, in favour maintaining an unchanged cabinet, a decision Urqhart sees as ill-advised both in terms of party image and actual policy he begins a ruthless back-room campaign to bring down the Prime Minister and set himself in Collingridge's place.
What makes the series so impressive, and, potentially, so appealing to Martin readers is the naked analysis of an almost feudal power system, in which patronage, blackmail, intimidation and sometimes outright gullibility play their part in an ever shifting landscape of loyalties.
Although the series is set as a melodrama it has remarkable emotional and philosophical complexities. Urqhart is not merely seeking power for power's sake, but because he believes he would be a better PM than Collingridge or any of the other contenders. The personal betrayal and political differences are interwoven.
In the Shakespearean style Urqhart frequently addresses himself to the audience, inviting them to join him in his plotting. Indeed, Urqhart, despite his ruthlessness, and dare I say his age?, is a charming character; witty, attractive and intellectually gifted.
Shakespearean references abound. These range from the obvious, (early on, in conversation with his wife, he sincerely dismisses any Prime Ministerial ambition by saying mockingly "Glamis, Cawdor, and king hereafter?") to the more subtle. Although they are drawn principally from MacBeth and Richard III they range more widely, as do references to other classics.
Insofar as it's possible to, this show captures the feel of feudal politics in the modern age. Ministers are Lords, MPs their retainers and the PM, King. Newspapers, media companies and skilled publicity officers are mercenaries for hire, to be rewarded with prestige and Honours. Each has their own specific price, their strengths and weaknesses and limits to their loyalty. I heartily recomend it, especially to those Martin fans who enjoyed reading about Kings Landing, the battles in the Small Council and the Red Keep.
A few notes:
The series was originally based on a novel of the same name. This is generally regarded as hugely inferior, and I speak as someone who loves novels. The ending is different, many of the ancillary plots cliched and unexciting, indeed the sub-plot that is considered by some to be so original and powerful as to dwarf the main plan is absent from the novel, which instead follows the cliche the TV series so ruthlessly avoided. Worst of all Urqhart, far from being an erudite charmer is a vulgar bully.
The series led to two sequels (To Play the King, and The Final Cut) both of which are, in their way, inferior to the original. To Play the King is perhaps the weakest of the three, though still head and shoulders above most other television. It lacks the depth given to the first series which was intercut with low angle establishing shots featuring rats knawing in garbage, fighting and generally scurrying about. It also lack the originality of the first one: the plot is, essentially, a re-tread of House of Cards. Nevertheless, it is still intelligent, and there is enough evidence of new thought in it to make it powerfully compelling viewing. It's comments on the role of a constitutional monarchy are more involved and subtle than I've ever seen in a regular news or current affairs show. And if it is a criticism to say it apes the plot of House of Cards, that is perhaps the most complimentary criticism I have ever given. The third series, The Final Cut, has more depth than To Play the King, but less than House of Cards. It makes up for this with a powerfully original plot, and considerable breadth, being the most epic of the three. It is also the most philosophically conventional, as the dichomoty of Urqhart as idealistic and ruthless, charming and malovolent is reduced and the man becomes more heartless and brutal, possibly as a sop to audiences who were increasingly unwilling to make the leap of sophistication necessary to encompass the more mature character development of the first two series.
Finally, it should be noted that the showing of the first episode coincided with the real life removal of Margaret Thatcher from power, an event that was regarded as an absurd impossibility when the series was written and filmed.
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