Operating in the much-ridiculed milieu of heroic fantasy, Game of Thrones had the makings of an insta-flop when it arrived in 2011.
Adapted from George RR Martin's bodice-and-chainmail-ripping novels, the series featured portentous dialogue and a cast of largely unwashed characters disembowelling one another with broadswords. It was reasonable to expect it would suffer the ratings equivalent of the swift beheading administered to a miscreant by Ned Stark (Sean Bean) in the first episode.
Instead, Game of Thrones has become a phenomenon. It is American network HBO's most popular property ever, eclipsing The Sopranos in viewers. Parents are even naming their children after beloved characters: 30 years hence you may find yourself taking advice from a solicitor called Tyrion or having your blood tested by a doctor whose ID badge reads Khal Drogo.
With success has come the flattery of imitation. The BBC recently announced a new series based on Bernard Cornwell's The Last Kingdom, an Anglo-Saxons versus Norsemen romp; meanwhile, the History Channel's Vikings has emulated GoT's blend of blood, beards and battle-axes.
But though TV producers have borrowed from the Game of Thrones aesthetic, they are still reluctant to follow HBO down the rabbit-hole of fantastical plots, into the rich, ridiculous world of swords and sorcery. Here are fantasy novels which, adroitly reinterpreted for television, could succeed on the scale of Game of Thrones.
Magician (Raymond E Feist)
Lusty and ludicrous, Feist's 1982 novel and its sequels rival Game of Thrones for violence and sex. The story opens in the coastal province of a cut-and-paste medieval kingdom where orphaned kitchen boy Pug develops a talent for conjuring. In the follow-up, Silverthorn, zombie assassins square off against our heroes in an inner-city slum showdown a gory, murky sequence that would have slotted nicely into the last series of Game of Thrones.
The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever (Stephen R Donaldson)
The "Scandinavian noir" of high fantasy, the Covenant novels are glazed in existential mopery. Opening in Seventies America, anti-hero Thomas Covenant is a depressed father and husband lately diagnosed with leprosy. Abruptly summoned to a far-off fantasy realm, his first act is to sexually assault a 16-year-old girl. This is grim, gritty fare that would feel twice as smart with the real-world scenes transplanted to Northern Europe, and the stark script delivered instead by severe-looking Danes or Swedes.
The Dragonlance Chronicles (Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman)
On screen, Game of Thrones deals gingerly with the overtly fantastical aspects of the George RR Martin novels. There are witches and giants, but not so many that it starts to feel silly. At the other end of the spectrum we find the Dragonlance novels, heaving with gnomes, dwarves, Arthurian knights and dragons with exuberantly bonkers names such as Cyan Bloodbane. Fans of unexpurgated spectacle such as those millions who flocked to the latest Transformers movie would go wobbly-kneed for it.
The Sword of Shannara (Terry Brooks)
Fantasy's answer to Little House on the Prairie, Shannara is wholesome almost to a fault. There is no nudity or torture; instead there are lots of wizards and warriors plus a villain going by the trying-slightly-too-hard name of Warlock Lord. Surely there is space for a family-friendly riff on Game of Thrones? With thrilling chases and hard-to-pronounce character names, it is easy to imagine Shannara winning a following among devotees of Westeros.
The Blade Itself (Joe Abercrombie)
Of all the writers on our list, Abercrombie is closest in spirit to George RR Martin. In glitteringly wry prose, he is astute at deploying the tropes of swords and sorcery. In place of rampaging wyverns and fireball-tossing mages, this Lancastrian author emphasises instead the muddy misery and ever-present violence of the real Middle Ages.
Malazan Book of the Fallen (Steven Erikson)
Television executives searching for a franchise with legs could do worse than this ten-volume saga, stuffed with dozens of major characters and a tangle of plot-lines. A multi-faceted tale of warring gods and clashing empires, Malazan Book of the Fallen is epic in a way Game of Thrones only occasionally manages to be imagine a show where every episode is as over-the-top as the climatic Battle of Blackwater.
Perdido Street Station (China Miéville)
Twin Peaks meets Lord of the Rings (with shades of Fritz Lang's Metropolis): Miéville's retro-future "steam-punk" adventure is gorgeously imagined and would surely sparkle on screen.
A Wizard of Earthsea (Ursula K Le Guin)
A Sci-Fi Channel adaptation from 2004 plunged Le Guin's novels to depths of cheesiness exceeded only by Xena: Warrior Princess. Post-Game of Thrones, however, producers may feel they finally have permission to take Earthsea seriously, and a revisit may be timely. Best thought of as Harry Potter for Smiths fans, Earthsea chronicles the coming of age of a trainee wizard but instead of goofing about on broomsticks, here classroom japes include summoning an inter-dimensional demon in a ritual that leaves our hero horrifically scarred.
Memory, Sorrow and Thorn (Tad Williams)
Tolkien for the Nirvana generation. Alongside the standard wicked overlord and made-up geography, this early Nineties trilogy poses deep questions about life, love and duty. Simon Snowlock is a kitchen boy in a castle reminiscent of House Stark's fortress at Winterfell in Game of Thrones. Stumbling on an ancient plot to plunge the land into darkness and tyranny, he is required, somewhat against his will, to become a hero and just as painfully a responsible adult.
The Silmarillion (JRR Tolkien)
Set centuries before Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, The Silmarillion was the great unfinished work of Tolkien's life (it received posthumous publication in 1977). The Professor's knotty faux-medieval prose can make for an arduous read none the less the story is properly cracking, featuring giant spiders, dark lords, feckless mortals and endless climactic duels. With Peter Jackson's films confirming the public's endless appetite for all things Middle Earth, television could do worse than to take a closer look at this vivid mythological tapestry.
