书名：A Feast for Crows 冰与火之歌4：群鸦的盛宴

作者：George R.R. Martin乔治·R.R.马丁 

出版社名称：Bantam 

出版时间：2006 

语种：英文 

ISBN：9780553582024 

商品尺寸：10.6 x 4.2 x 17.4 cm 

包装：简装 

页数：1104A Feast for Crows《群鸦的盛宴》是乔治·R.R.马丁的A Song of Ice and Fire《冰与火之歌》系列中的第四卷，也是美国HBO电视网热播电视剧Game of Thrones《权力的游戏》的原著小说。《冰与火之歌》全书计划共七卷，截止2014年共完成出版了五卷，包括《权力的游戏》《列王的纷争》《冰雨的风暴》《群鸦的盛宴》和《魔龙的狂舞》。目前已被翻译成三十多种文字，全球销量已过千万，读者过亿。

推荐理由： 1.美国奇幻大师乔治·R.R.马丁奇幻史诗巨作，曾获雨果奖、星云奖及轨迹奖等多项大奖，美国“国宝”级幻想文学作品； 2.采用POV视点人物写作手法，每章内容均以某特定视觉人物的角度出发，叙述一段内容，在下一章换为另一视觉人物，这更像是一出电影而非小说，让人身临其境沉迷不能自拔； 3.小说在宫廷斗争、疆场厮杀、游历冒险等奇幻因素中融入了中世纪欧洲历史事件或传统神话因素，高度符合历史现实，读者很容易感受到这个“架空世界”的真实感； 4.注重人物刻画和人性挖掘，并且削弱魔法元素，以现实手法描绘世界和人物，是奇幻文学作品中的“反传统先锋”，不仅好看，还具有新意； 5.整部小说中的人物多达数百个，但刻画十分细致，语言描写非常丰富，对写作有较大帮助； 6.阅读难度适中，有较多重复词汇，语言比较接近现代小说风格，仿古的文风只是点到而止，非英语专业的读者也容易读懂。 THE BOOK BEHIND THE FOURTH SEASON OF THE ACCLAIMED HBO SERIES GAME OF THRONES Few books have captivated the imagination and won the devotion and praise of readers and critics everywhere as has George R. R. Martin’s monumental epic cycle of high fantasy. Now, inA Feast for Crows, Martin delivers the long-awaited fourth book of his landmark series, as a kingdom torn asunder finds itself at last on the brink of peace... only to be launched on an even more terrifying course of destruction. Review “A riveting continuation of a series whose brilliance continues to dazzle.”  —Patriot News “I always expect the best from George R. R. Martin, and he always delivers.” —Robert Jordan

A Feast for Crows《冰与火之歌4：群鸦的盛宴》

这一卷，看似弱小的势力正在崛起，詹姆攻陷了奔流域，结束了五王之战，短暂的平静之后将是更猛烈的暴风雨。铁群岛的新王攸伦、自由贸易城邦布拉佛斯的“无面者”、学城里的魔法正在复归；多恩道朗亲王的阴谋终于全盘展现，昆廷正航向奴隶湾，带回马泰尔家族多年的渴望。第五卷将回归逃亡的提利昂、重建长城的琼恩、复活岛凯特琳，还有重要的龙之女王——丹妮莉丝，他们将以更成熟的姿态为我们演绎七大王国未来的命运，谁赢谁败，拭目以待。 It seems too good to be true. After centuries of bitter strife and fatal treachery, the seven powers dividing the land have decimated one another into an uneasy truce. Or so it appears.... With the death of the monstrous King Joffrey, Cersei is ruling as regent in King’s Landing. Robb Stark’s demise has broken the back of the Northern rebels, and his siblings are scattered throughout the kingdom like seeds on barren soil. Few legitimate claims to the once desperately sought Iron Throne still exist—or they are held in hands too weak or too distant to wield them effectively. The war, which raged out of control for so long, has burned itself out. But as in the aftermath of any climactic struggle, it is not long before the survivors, outlaws, renegades, and carrion eaters start to gather, picking over the bones of the dead and fighting for the spoils of the soon-to-be dead. Now in the Seven Kingdoms, as the human crows assemble over a banquet of ashes, daring new plots and dangerous new alliances are formed, while surprising faces—some familiar, others only just appearing—are seen emerging from an ominous twilight of past struggles and chaos to take up the challenges ahead. It is a time when the wise and the ambitious, the deceitful and the strong will acquire the skills, the power, and the magic to survive the stark and terrible times that lie before them. It is a time for nobles and commoners, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and sages to come together and stake their fortunes... and their lives. For at a feast for crows, many are the guests—but only a few are the survivors.

乔治·R.R.马丁（George R. R. Martin），美国作家、编辑、电视剧编剧兼制片人，雨果奖、星云奖、轨迹奖、世界科幻奖等文学奖项多次得主。马丁擅长撰写奇幻、科幻和恐怖题材的小说，其作品主要以人物为关注点，描写细腻丰富，突破了幻想文学界固有的创作模式，多次引领阅读潮流。代表作有十大浪漫太空歌剧之一的《光逝》、由雨果奖获奖名篇扩展而成的《风港》、在杂志读者群中深受爱戴的《图夫航行记》，以及当代严肃奇幻小说系列《冰与火之歌》。由于马丁作品的辉煌成就，他被《时代》杂志誉为“美国的托尔金”和“新世纪的海明威”。

George R. R. Martinis an American novelist and short-story writer in the fantasy, horror, and science fiction genres, a screenwriter, and television producer. He is best known for his international bestselling series of epic fantasy novels,A Song of Ice and Fire, which was later adapted into the HBO dramatic seriesGame of Thrones. Martin serves as the series’ co-executive producer, and also scripted four episodes of the series. In 2005, Lev Grossman of Time called Martin “the American Tolkien”, and the magazine later named him one of the “2011 Time 100,” a list of the “most influential people in the world.

Cersei

She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all. The courtiers were brightly colored mice below. Great lords and proud ladies knelt before her. Bold young knights laid their swords at her feet and pleaded for her favors, and the queen smiled down at them. Until the dwarf appeared as if from nowhere, pointing at her and howling with laughter. The lords and ladies began to chuckle too, hiding their smiles behind their hands. Only then did the queen realize she was naked. Horrified, she tried to cover herself with her hands. The barbs and blades of the Iron Throne bit into her flesh as she crouched to hide her shame. Blood ran red down her legs, as steel teeth gnawed at her buttocks. When she tried to stand, her foot slipped through a gap in the twisted metal. The more she struggled the more the throne engulfed her, tearing chunks of flesh from her breasts and belly, slicing at her arms and legs until they were slick and red, glistening. And all the while her brother capered below, laughing. His merriment still echoed in her ears when she felt a light touch on her shoulder, and woke suddenly. For half a heartbeat the hand seemed part of the nightmare, and Cersei cried out, but it was only Senelle. The maid’s face was white and frightened. We are not alone, the queen realized. Shadows loomed around her bed, tall shapes with chainmail glimmering beneath their cloaks. Armed men had no business here. Where are my guards? Her bedchamber was dark, but for the lantern one of the intruders held on high. I must show no fear. Cersei pushed back sleep-tousled hair, and said, “What do you want of me?” A man stepped into the lantern light, and she saw his cloak was white. “Jaime?” I dreamt of one brother, but the other has come to wake me. “Your Grace.” The voice was not her brother’s. “The Lord Commander said come get you.” His hair curled, as Jaime’s did, but her brother’s hair was beaten gold, like hers, where this man’s was black and oily. She stared at him, confused, as he muttered about a privy and a crossbow, and said her father’s name. I am dreaming still, Cersei thought. I have not woken, nor has my nightmare ended. Tyrion will creep out from under the bed soon and begin to laugh at me. But that was folly. Her dwarf brother was down in the black cells, condemned to die this very day. She looked down at her hands, turning them over to make certain all her fingers were still there. When she ran a hand down her arm the skin was covered with gooseprickles, but unbroken. There were no cuts on her legs, no gashes on the soles of her feet. A dream, that’s all it was, a dream. I drank too much last night, these fears are only humors born of wine. I will be the one laughing, come dusk. My children will be safe, Tommen’s throne will be secure, and my twisted little valonqar will be short a head and rotting. Jocelyn Swyft was at her elbow, pressing a cup on her. Cersei took a sip: water, mixed with lemon squeezings, so tart she spit it out. She could hear the night wind rattling the shutters, and she saw with a strange sharp clarity. Jocelyn was trembling like a leaf, as frightened as Senelle. Ser Osmund Kettleblack loomed over her. Behind him stood Ser Boros Blount, with a lantern. At the door were Lannister guardsmen with gilded lions shining on the crests of their helmets. They looked afraid as well. Can it be? the queen wondered. Can it be true? She rose, and let Senelle slip a bedrobe over her shoulders to hide her nakedness. Cersei belted it herself, her fingers stiff and clumsy. “My lord father keeps guards about him, night and day,” she said. Her tongue felt thick. She took another swallow of lemon water and sloshed it round her mouth to freshen her breath. A moth had gotten into the lantern Ser Boros was holding; she could hear it buzzing and see the shadow of its wings as it beat against the glass. “The guards were at their posts, Your Grace,” said Osmund Kettleblack. “We found a hidden door behind the hearth. A secret passage. The Lord Commander’s gone down to see where it goes.” “Jaime?” Terror seized her, sudden as a storm. “Jaime should be with the king...” “The lad’s not been harmed. Ser Jaime sent a dozen men to look in on him. His Grace is sleeping peaceful.” Let him have a sweeter dream than mine, and a kinder waking. “Who is with the king?” “Ser Loras has that honor, if it please you.” It did not please her. The Tyrells were only stewards that the dragon-kings had upjumped far above their station. Their vanity was exceeded only by their ambition. Ser Loras might be as pretty as a maiden’s dream, but underneath his white cloak he was Tyrell to the bone. For all she knew, this night’s foul fruit had been planted and nurtured in Highgarden. But that was a suspicion she dare not speak aloud. “Allow me a moment to dress. Ser Osmund, you shall accompany me to the Tower of the Hand. Ser Boros, roust the gaolers and make certain the dwarf is still in his cell.” She would not say his name. He would never have found the courage to lift a hand against Father, she told herself, but she had to be certain. “As Your Grace commands.” Blount surrendered the lantern to Ser Osmund. Cersei was not displeased to see the back of him. Father should never have restored him to the white. The man had proved himself a craven. By the time they left Maegor’s Holdfast, the sky had turned a deep cobalt blue, though the stars still shone. All but one, Cersei thought. The bright star of the west has fallen, and the nights will be darker now. She paused upon the drawbridge that spanned the dry moat, gazing down at the spikes below. They would not dare lie to me about such a thing. “Who found him?” “One of his guards,” said Ser Osmund. “Lum. He felt a call of nature, and found his lordship in the privy.” No, that cannot be. That is not the way a lion dies. The queen felt strangely calm. She remembered the first time she had lost a tooth, when she was just a little girl. It hadn’t hurt, but the hole in her mouth felt so odd she could not stop touching it with her tongue. Now there is a hole in the world where Father stood, and holes want filling.