The Case Against Telly Show Game of Thrones

It must be unequivocally admitted that George R R Martin, author of the wildly popular series A Song of Ice and Fire, commonly known as Game of Thrones, is all kinds of awesome. However, that has not stopped his more rabid fans from frothing at the mouth, when the sexagenarian failed to make good on a promise to finish the hugely anticipated sixth installment of the series, The Winds of Winter, before HBO’s Game of Thrones season 6 premieres later this month.

For those of us, to whom GRRM is crack, the news was nothing short of devastating. After venting their outrage on social media, the great man’s legion of fans have taken to praying fervently, begging their God to preserve the life of the old timer who looked alarmingly feeble and too overweight for the good of his heart when he held up a middle-finger on camera in response to all those who were worried he would kick the bucket before writing the last line of his masterpiece.

Many blame the damn show which has hijacked the attention of the author. Initially, I refused to watch it on principle, though others had given in to their desperate need for a Game of Thrones fix, in whatever format, with an embarrassing lack of resistance which made me go tsk and urge myself not to despise them for being weak.

It pains me to relate that my own addiction insisted I throw myself at the feet of primetime television. And it was all for naught. The show is the book’s poor, plague-afflicted cousin. There are lots of ridiculously pretty people who are bumping uglies at every miserably contrived opportunity acting on the instigation of their makers who compound their unforgiveable errors by daring to take liberties and diverging from the original script.

In the book, the characters are real and the writing is brilliant. Even the good-looking ones get hurt, pass wind, suffer from hair loss, chopped noses and stretch marks like normal folks. There is sex aplenty but it has the master’s touch which makes it engaging not groan-worthy like in the TV show, where nearly everybody is hot, boasting buff and hairless bodies as they moan and groan en route to the earth-shattering orgasms that form the climax of all that simulated sex. Who cares about the realistic dialogue when the sex scenes are amped-up to the point where it is hilarious?

The entire thing is a blatant crime against good fiction and should not go unpunished. On behalf of fans everywhere, I beseech GRRM to save us before we once again fling every semblance of dignity aside to glue our eyes to the television screen on April 26 in order to get high on Game of Thrones, even if it is a cheap fix.

Chandramouli is the bestselling author of Arjuna, Kamadeva and Shakti