All too often, fantasy literature is placed on the same low pedestal as trite paperback… All too often, fantasy literature is placed on the same low pedestal as trite paperback mysteries and teen paranormal romance. This placement does not come without reason. A lot of fantasy is, well, less than stellar and not always appealing to adults.

Enter George R.R. Martin’s series “A Song of Ice and Fire,” the cure for the common paperback. In 2011, Time magazine counted Martin among the world’s 100 most influential people, and in 2005 the magazine dubbed the author “the American Tolkien.”

Thus far, five of seven planned books have been released. Its television adaptation, HBO’s “Game of Thrones,” debuted last year and was nominated for several awards, including Outstanding Drama Series and Best Television Series — Drama at the Emmys and the Golden Globes, respectively. By the time season two premieres on April 1, you should have caught up with the show and read at least the first two books — but not in that order.

If you unwrapped the series’ first book, “A Game of Thrones,” this Christmas and quickly tossed it to your 11-year-old cousin, you might want to go grab it back, lest his innocence be subjected to all the violence, sex and death that should be yours by right. A 2005 Chicago Tribune review said that the series is “definitely not for children. It’s a fantasy series for hip, smart people, even those who don’t read fantasy.”

The series takes place in a world reminiscent of medieval Europe and blends two genres, fantasy and realism, that seem to be polar opposites. “A Song of Ice and Fire” does not tell the stories of heroic knights and kings. Rather, it tells of human beings, some of whom happen to be knights and kings. This is not the ultimate struggle of good versus evil; it’s people against people, some of whom might be preferable to others, depending on your point of view.

Part of Martin’s strength as a storyteller lies in his ability to make you relate to any of his characters. He can humanize monsters and make the most honorable men seem like stubborn fools. There are conflicts in which it’s impossible to take one side or the other because you like all of the characters so damn much. Consequently, the character you hated most in book one might be who you’re rooting for most two books later.

A 2011 New York Times review said that one of the author’s greatest virtues is that he’s “unapologetically cold-blooded.” Quite literally, anyone can be killed, which opens a realm of possibility absent in the majority of fantasy. What if Harry Potter died in “The Sorcerer’s Stone,” and the story moved on without him? Death itself isn’t even necessary; its mere potential is part of what sets “A Song of Ice and Fire” apart. No one is safe.

Don’t expect your favorite character to come back to life after his head’s been sliced off. Gandalf the White will not make a triumphant return just when he’s needed most. In the rare occasion when a character is given a second chance at life, the reader is left wondering whether that character would’ve been better off dead.

The way Martin approaches fantastical elements further separates his work from the majority of the genre.

The series’ first scene introduces the reader to a group of mythical enemies that the majority of the characters believe to be long extinct, if they existed at all. Following the prologue, the first book is notoriously bereft of the components of standard fantasy. But as the story moves forward, the layers that separate our world from that of the series are peeled away. We’re introduced to dragons, sorcerers, skinchangers and the like.

The unimaginable scope of the series’ world, along with the depth of the characters within it, make its focus at once panoramic and microscopic. Therein lies one of its greatest strengths — or weaknesses, depending on who you ask.

My recommendation of the series comes with a caveat: whether it’s in the first few episodes or the first few chapters, you’re going to be confused, and maybe even a little bored. The number of plot lines, characters and locales can make your first experience more than a bit chaotic. “Who’s that?” you’ll wonder. “Wait, what?” you’ll say. The relations between characters are so intricate that the media package HBO sent to members of the press before the show’s debut included a family tree/flowchart.

Pitt English professor Lori Campbell, who leads the Fantasy Studies Fellowship, a student group dedicated to the study of the fantastic, said she could not get past this initial confusion and stopped reading the series after a few chapters as a result.

“There are just so many characters in those books — I didn’t find myself caring about them. [Martin] didn’t let me into the minds of those characters. I didn’t feel like I was connected to them,” Campbell said.

To both Campbell and the inevitably confused first-time reader or viewer, I say this: persevere. The series might not grab you immediately, but once you’re hooked into its world, you might find you’d prefer not to leave.

Watching the show for a second time, you’ll notice an abundance of detail that had previously escaped you. There is not a single line of dialogue wasted. You simply can’t recognize the enormous amount of foreshadowing until you go back and see it for yourself.

Reading (and finishing) the books before watching the show will solve any and all problems of confusion and make you privy to even deeper complexities. For example, Lord Beric Dondarrion makes just one appearance in the show’s first season. Readers will smile knowingly as he utters his single line, “As you command,” well aware that the Lightning Lord will be back, again and again and again.

Plus, you get to watch as your friends, sweet summer children that they are, look on in amazement, horror and nearly everything in between at events you knew were coming. You hold all the secrets, but rather than spoiling your enjoyment of the show, it enhances it.

So get reading.