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  • Title: Feast For Crows: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book Four
  • Author: George R. R. Martin
  • Narrator: Roy Dotrice
  • Length: 1.416666667
  • Version: Abridged
  • Release Date: 15-Dec
  • Publisher: Random House (Audio)
  • Genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Epic Fantasy
  • ISBN13: 9.78E+12
Hola, fellow wanderers and tale-chasers,

There’s something about the open road—or in this case, the sprawling, blood-soaked paths of Westeros—that makes an audiobook feel like a companion whispering secrets in your ear. It reminds me of a time when I was driving through the sunburnt expanse of Chile’s Atacama Desert, the otherworldly dunes stretching out like a canvas of forgotten stories, while Gabriel García Márquez’s *One Hundred Years of Solitude* hummed through my speakers. That same sense of being transported, of living inside a tale as vast as the landscape, hit me again when I dove into *Feast For Crows: A Song of Ice and Fire: Book Four* by George R. R. Martin, narrated by the inimitable Roy Dotrice. This isn’t just an audiobook—it’s a banquet of voices, a journey through a kingdom teetering on the edge of ruin, and a masterclass in storytelling that lingers long after the last word fades.

For those unfamiliar, *Feast For Crows* picks up where *A Storm of Swords* left us—dazed, heartbroken, and hungry for more. The Seven Kingdoms, battered by war and treachery, seem to catch their breath in an uneasy truce. King Joffrey’s monstrous reign has ended, Cersei rules as regent, Robb Stark’s rebellion lies in ashes, and the Iron Throne feels more like a cursed relic than a prize. But as Martin reminds us, peace is just the calm before the carrion crows descend. The story unfolds like a tapestry fraying at the edges—threads of ambition, grief, and cunning weave through characters both familiar and new, from Brienne’s lonely quest to Cersei’s spiraling paranoia. It’s a slower burn than its predecessors, less a clash of swords and more a feast of schemes, but oh, how rich the flavors are when you savor it.

This audiobook experience hit me personally in ways I didn’t expect. Years ago, I stayed with a family in Oaxaca, where their abuela would gather us each evening to spin tales of spirits and lost loves. Her voice carried the weight of time, pausing at just the right moments to let the silence speak. Listening to Roy Dotrice narrate *Feast For Crows*, I felt that same intimacy—like sitting by a fire as a grizzled bard recounts a saga too raw to be fiction. Dotrice doesn’t just read; he inhabits. With over 200 distinct character voices (a feat that earned him a Guinness World Record), he breathes life into every soul, from Arya’s steely resolve to Jaime’s sardonic wit. You can almost taste the salt air of the Iron Islands or hear the creak of armor as Brienne trudges on. It’s the kind of performance that makes you forget you’re listening to one man—it’s a whole world unfurling in your ears.

Thematically, *Feast For Crows* is a meditation on aftermath. Where earlier books reveled in the chaos of war, this one picks through the wreckage. Martin shifts focus to the survivors—the outlaws scavenging the Riverlands, the nobles jockeying for scraps of power, the common folk caught in the crossfire. It’s a stark reminder of how conflict doesn’t end with a victory; it just changes shape. Cersei’s chapters, dripping with venom and delusion, are a standout—she’s a queen unraveling, her every move a desperate grasp at control. Meanwhile, characters like Sansa and Samwell grow into their own, their quiet strength a contrast to the clamor of crowns. It’s not the adrenaline rush of dragons or battles, but a deeper, more human epic fantasy that rewards patience.

Dotrice’s narration elevates this shift beautifully. His gravelly timbre suits the weariness of a war-torn land, and his pacing mirrors the book’s deliberate rhythm. You can hear the exhaustion in Ser Hyle Hunt’s banter or the menace in Qyburn’s soft-spoken schemes. The audio quality is crisp, immersive—34 hours of listening that fly by like a windswept ride through the Dothraki Sea. Still, it’s not flawless. Some accents waver, and a few female characters sound more like caricatures than flesh-and-blood women. Yet these hiccups fade against the sheer scope of his talent. Pair that with Martin’s prose—vivid, brutal, and laced with that signature gallows humor—and you’ve got an audiobook experience that’s as unforgettable as a Dornish sunset.

That said, *Feast For Crows* isn’t without its quirks. Fans of the HBO series *Game of Thrones* might miss the breakneck pace or the presence of fan-favorites like Tyrion and Daenerys, who take a backseat here as Martin splits his narrative across two books (*A Dance With Dragons* runs parallel). The slower tempo and focus on lesser-known corners of Westeros—like the Iron Islands’ bitter politics or Brienne’s seemingly aimless trek—can feel like a detour. But for me, it’s a strength. It’s the literary equivalent of stopping at a roadside mercado instead of speeding to the tourist traps—you get the real story, the one that simmers beneath the surface. Compared to, say, Robert Jordan’s *Wheel of Time*, which balances sprawl with momentum, Martin leans harder into character over plot. It’s a gamble that pays off if you’re willing to sit at the table and dig in.

Who’s this for? Lovers of epic fantasy who crave depth over dazzle, listeners who relish a narrator who becomes the story, and anyone who’s ever found beauty in a broken place. If you’re new to *A Song of Ice and Fire*, start with *A Game of Thrones*—this is no entry point. But if you’re deep in Martin’s world, this audiobook is a treasure. And here’s the kicker: you can find it floating around as a free audiobook download if you know where to look (check sites like Audiobooks.com for samples or deals). For 45 bucks otherwise, it’s a steal for the hours of escape it offers.

Reflecting on it now, *Feast For Crows* feels like those nights in Oaxaca—raw, real, and woven with a magic that’s hard to pin down. It’s not the loudest tale I’ve heard, but it’s one that stays with you, like dust on your boots after a long road. Dotrice’s voice is the perfect guide, turning Martin’s words into something you don’t just hear—you live. So grab your headphones, hit play, and let the crows lead you into the dusk of Westeros. You won’t come back the same.

Until the next tale finds us, amigos,
Marcus Rivera