I'm still as obsessed with A Song Of Ice and Fire as I was a decade ago. I don't care how long Martin takes to finish the next book and have no truck with anybody who slags off the author for it. The long wait is part of the game, you dopes. Fucking deal with it.
I know more about the history of Westeros than I do about actual European history; I still think the last season was fucking excellent and you're all out of your goddamn minds; and when I get bored at work, I find myself scanning the history of the Wyman Manderly's family.
Even with all that, and all the other spin-off books I happily ingested over the years, I can't do that last book, man. It's too much of the same old thing.
The Rise of the Dragon's big selling point is that it's an illustrated history of the Targaryen dynasty, visually showing the big, bad moments of the royal line. And some of the artwork in it is wonderfully epic, while also finding room for quieter moments amongst all the death and treachery.
I probably would have got it if it was more about the pictures, with just the most precautionary of captions, but it's padded out with the same words we've already had five or six times in other formats. And there is so much of it, pages and pages of the same text that is already so familiar. (It's notable that the artists who actually produce the illustrations are not named on the content page and rarely mentioned in any reviews and sales, while the writers get big, bold credit.)
There's enough Game of Thrones weight on my bookshelves, there's no room for too much repetition.
Mind you, this is probably all part of the plan, and they'll do a proper art book, showcasing the artwork without all the words crowding it out, and I'd totally buy that. Of course I fucking would.
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