Game of Thrones Watch 8.2: "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms"

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry here!

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8.02 “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms”

Written by Bryan Cogman

Directed by David Nutter

I solemnly swear that, unlike Cogman and Nutter, I will not suddenly stop this discussion right as it gets to the good/important part.

This episode is kind of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it’s nice that they slow down a bit, and do it in a way that doesn’t feel like wheel-spinning (see the first third of “The Dragon and the Wolf”). It gives us a chance to spend time with the dozens of characters we now have all in the same place and for a few reunions. On the other hand, there’s a lot going on here that is seriously problematic, even verging into the disturbing.

Because I love Brienne so much, despite the Really Bad Choices I feel the show made in adapting her character, let’s start with the titular scene. While waiting for the dead to descend on them and their doomed last stand to begin, Brienne, Tormund, Davos, Pod, Jaime, and Tyrion are sitting around having a drink. Tyrion refers to Brienne as “ser,” then corrects himself, which offends Tormund, who still thinks Brienne hung the moon. He doesn’t understand why women “can’t” be knights, and says “fuck tradition.” Jaime points out that any knight can make another knight, and proceeds to knight Brienne in a scene that’s beautifully acted and got me choked up in ways I didn’t know Game of Thrones could still do.

Do I wish Jaime had thought of it first? Sure. Do I still kind of get squicked by the way Tormund drools all over a clearly disinterested and even uncomfortable Brienne? Absolutely. Have I been waiting for Jaime to knight Brienne since he started his redemption arc? Hell yes. Also, calling her the Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is a nice Easter egg for book readers, since her lineage includes Ser Duncan the Tall, and the Dunk and Egg collection is titled A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.

Not all the conversations go this well. Both major conversations Daenerys is involved in—once with Sansa and once with Jon—go from bad to worse to over before they can really dig into the problem they’re trying to hash out. We almost get Dany and Sansa making up and being friends, but of course we can’t have it because they’re women with a man in common. Sansa rightly wants to know what Dany intends to do with/for/about the North if they survive this battle, but just before they actually get to discuss that—beyond the clear you are part of my kingdom and I have dragons face that Dany’s giving her—they’re interrupted by Theon. I hope that Theon’s “I want to fight for Winterfell and the North” speech does something to Dany’s thought process re: what they’re all fighting for, but I’m not holding my breath.

The other major conversation is Jon telling Dany about his parentage. I’m really glad they just got right to it instead of letting this secret hang over them for episodes and episodes (creating tension through characters keeping secrets they don’t need to be keeping is one of my least favorite storytelling tools; I’m looking at you, Supernatural). However, there’s a few continuity issues in that I don’t remember Dany ever really having any conversations regarding Rhaegar being a rapist? Barristan told her about Rhaegar going amongst the smallfolk and busking on street corners, but his relationship with Lyanna didn’t ever come up that I’m aware of. And I highly doubt that Targaryens-first Viserys would ever have called Rhaegar a rapist. In the books, every story Dany hears about him is positive, and she identifies with him more than her father. So her assertion that Rhaeger kidnapped and raped Lyanna—without something like “the way your people tell it”—is weird and off.

(Dr. Kavita Finn has a much longer take on the way this episode is divorced from the entire history of Westeros here.)

But, again, Dany comes to the conclusion that Jon could challenge her for the Iron Throne. At least she verbalizes that it’s because he’s male and not just because he’s Rhaegar’s son. But before they can talk that out, the horn blows three times and the White Walkers have arrived.

It’s interesting that Sansa mentions to Dany that men are easily manipulated by women when Dany’s constantly manipulated by the men around her. Case in point in this episode: she’s mad at Tyrion for not catching on to Cersei having lied to her—on top of the other mistakes in judgment he’s made. But then Jorah goes to bat for Tyrion because Seven forbid we ever think Tyrion is less than perfect, and Dany’s halfway to forgiving him before Sansa even has a chance to sing his praises (which is problematic all on its own).

Easily the most problematic bit, the one that squicked me out the hardest, was Arya’s seduction (if you want to call it that) of Gendry. First of all, we again had to start with Gendry’s sexual assault being downplayed and even joked about. Then, it almost felt like a job interview on Arya’s part—how much experience do you have? Great, then you’re the man for the job. This is also the first time we’ve seen Arya show any sexual interest at all, other than the crush she had on Gendry way back when they were traveling the Riverlands. And even here, there doesn’t seem to be so much interest as checking something off her bucket list. The cold, stonehearted (ha) character Arya has turned into doesn’t have the same chemistry with Gendry that twelve- or thirteen-year-old Arya had.

Then there’s the nudity. And yes, I’m aware that Arya is eighteen—HBO made damn sure to let us know that she’s “legal,” in a move that’s squicky all on its own. I’m also aware that Maisie Williams is in  her early 20s. But something about this scene feels like “now she’s old enough for us to have her nude on screen” rather than an organic idea that came from the characters and their relationship. I think if they had to have this at all, it could have been written better (and directed better) to make it sweet rather than bucket-listy.

Here’s the small things I noticed or had questions about in passing but not enough Thoughts about to yammer on for several hundred words:

Dany says that she delayed her war for the Iron Throne for Jon. But what happened to defending her people? Not wanting to be queen of ashes? Becoming a queen by acting like one? I guess when you make a character so easily manipulated, it’s hard to remember why she does anything.

Is Davos crediting “the Battle of the Bastards” (again, I hate that they’re calling it that in-universe) as his first fight? Have they forgotten all about “Blackwater”? And Stannis breaking the siege on the Wall?

How are they making these obsidian weapons? We see them in the regular forge, but that’s not how you’d shape obsidian and I didn’t notice anyone doing any knapping.

Sam needed to remind us of his man-cred again. White Walker! Thenn! Protecting Gilly!

Gilly continues to be a delight and far too good for this show.

I’m not entirely on board with Sam handing Heartsbane over to Jorah. It thematically doesn’t make any sense to me.

Grey Worm is totally going to die. The “let’s run away together” scene is way too sweet and wholesome for this to end any other way.

I am Here For “Jenny’s Song.” It’s mournful and sweet and actually makes sense in context, unlike Ed Sheeran singing “Hands of Gold” or Shireen, sans Patchface, singing Patchface’s rhymes.

Next week: Waiting in the dark! Fighting in the dark! Everything is dark! What is happening?

Martin Re-Read: "The Mystery Knight"

Read the previous entry in the series here.

“The Mystery Knight”

Warriors, edited by George R.R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, 2010

(Important announcement follows the post.)

Anyone who thought that Martin was just writing random stories about these two people wandering around Westeros hasn’t been paying attention to the way he writes A Song of Ice and Fire. Throughout the three stories, he’s been planting the seeds for this one, in which a bunch of nobles and a would-be prince attempt the Second Blackfyre Rebellion—and it fizzles badly.

Dunk, being Dunk—“thick as a castle wall,” as Ser Arlan always said—stumbles into the would-be rebellion completely by accident. He decides to attend a wedding feast and tourney in hopes of winning a bit of money so he and Egg can continue their trip north. Egg, probably approaching puberty, is beginning to get frustrated about hiding his identity and mouths off a lot more than he used to, so Dunk has to tell him to shut it often enough that when Egg tries to tell him that “this is a traitor’s tourney,” he doesn’t listen.

On the way, they come across some lords and a hedge knight calling himself Ser John the Fiddler. Everything’s going pretty normally until after the bedding (during which Dunk finds himself holding the one single woman in this story while she’s completely stark naked, of course). Dunk gets really really super drunk and overhears a conversation he doesn’t understand (lords plotting), then has a conversation with Ser John. The Fiddler tells him that he’s had dreams of Dunk in Kingsguard white and a dragon “bursting” from an egg here at the tourney. He drunkenly rambles a bit about taking Dunk into his service, none of which Dunk remembers clearly in the morning. As becomes pretty clear to anyone who isn’t “thick as a castle wall,” Ser John is really Daemon II Blackfyre and nearly everyone here is plotting with him, so of course he expects Dunk to enter his service and rebel against King Aerys.

Dunk, thinking he’s cute, enters the lists as “the Gallows Knight” for the sigil on his new shield (which he hasn’t had time/money to get repainted yet), deciding that everyone loves a mystery knight. Of course, he doesn’t immediately realize that the true mystery knight here is Ser John. Subverting the trope of “fair unknown” a bit, Martin has Dunk knocked out in his first tilt, and it turns out that Lord Gormon Peake has been bribing all those who face “Ser John” to lose. Usually in a “fair unknown” tale, the unknown knight in question is a) noble (check for “John,” not for Dunk) and naturally has the prowess of a knight (clearly no check for either).

Everything goes completely chaotic for a bit—Egg goes missing; the dragon egg meant to serve as a prize for the tourney (and probably pretext for Daemon beginning his rebellion) disappears; a hedge knight who refused to take a fall for Daemon is accused of theft and tortured; and Lord Alyn Cockshaw decides that Dunk is a threat to his influence with Daemon (because of Daemon’s dreams) and tries to kill him by shoving him into a well. But Dunk shoves him down the well, locates Egg (who’s been unmasked as a Targaryen), and kills a lord who attempts to kill Egg. Egg has told everyone holding him prisoner that his father, King Maekar, is aware of the rebellion and on his way to put it down, not realizing that Brynden “Bloodraven” Rivers is aware of it. An army shows up at the gates, and Daemon tries to demand single combat with Brynden, who says no way and has him taken prisoner.

The reader, of course, is aware that Daemon’s first dream comes true later; Dunk does indeed serve as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard under Egg when he becomes Aegon V. The second part seems to pretty clearly refer to Egg revealing his identity toward the end of the story, as he stops being the little boy hiding a signet ring in his boot and becomes a Targaryen with the signet ring on his finger. Daemon just wildly misinterpreted the dream.

A couple of other interesting side notes: Walder Frey shows up in this story as a snot-nosed four-year-old who totally narced on his sister (the one getting married in the story) for having premarital sex with a scullery boy. Also, Martin includes an ubi sunt early in the story:

Where is our young prince now? Where is his brother, sweet Matarys? Where has Good King Daeron gone, and fearless Baelor Breakspear? The grave has claimed them, every one[.]

Readers of Tolkien will, of course, recognize this structure from Aragorn’s “Lament for the Rohirrim” in The Two Towers—“where now the horse and the rider?” Tolkien, of course, borrowed this from Anglo-Saxon poetry, specifically “The Wanderer.” This was a common poetic structure in Anglo-Saxon poetry, especially poems that examined the transitory nature of life and society (so, you know, all of them). It’s likely that Martin borrowed it from Tolkien rather than from medieval literature, because I haven’t been able to find any evidence that he’s read medieval literature extensively. (I mean, he’s probably read Beowulf and Le Morte Darthur, but beyond that nobody knows. If anyone sees him at a con or something and wants to ask about his familiarity with medieval lit for me, I will make you cookies.)

This is the last “Dunk and Egg” story to date, though Martin always plans more. The stories are fun, with a bit of bittersweetness (which is typical for Martin) because we know how the story ends, and it isn’t pretty. But getting to know these characters and some of the history just prior to A Song of Ice and Fire is nice. There are three more stories I really hope he writes: Dunk escorting Aemon and Brynden north to the Wall; whatever will give us a clear explanation as to how Dunk and Brienne are related; and the Tragedy of Summerhall (though that one might break me).

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So, announcement time. I’m stepping back from the blog a bit; this will be the last of my regular posts. I’ll pop in occasionally when warranted, and I’ll definitely be back for Game of Thrones season 8 (which I hear isn’t coming until 2019? Darn). But other projects have started crowding my headspace, and it’s time to let someone else have the biggest voice here. Thanks for reading and commenting!

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Art by Gary Gianni from A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

Martin Re-read: "The Sworn Sword"

Read the previous entry in this series here!
Read the next entry here!

“The Sworn Sword”

Legends II, edited by Robert Silverberg, 2004

Almost 10 years after “The Hedge Knight,” Martin released a second Dunk and Egg story, this one taking place about a year and a half later.

Dunk and Egg have been travelling all over, spending some time down in Dorne chasing puppet shows, likely trying to find Tanselle, the girl Dunk has a crush on from “The Hedge Knight.” Now, Dunk is sworn to Ser Eustace Osgrey, a very very minor knight in the Reach. Sometime in the last year and a half, a massive plague rolled through the Seven Kingdoms, killing thousands throughout the kingdoms but nearly 40% of the populace in King’s Landing. Now, there’s a drought and terrible summer heat, and a feud starts between Ser Eustace and the neighboring Lady Rohanne Webber over rights to a stream.

Pride is the main theme in “The Sworn Sword,” though echoes of the chivalry/selfishness theme can be seen here, as well. Ser Eustace remembers when Osgrey was a more prominent house, before the Blackfyre Rebellion. Lady Webber is young and tiny and holding onto her lands with teeth and toenails, hampered by her father’s dying order that she marry within two years Or Else. Egg sometimes has trouble not acting like a Targaryen (he is only about 10 years old). Even Dunk shows a measure of pride when he discovers that Ser Eustace fought for the black dragon (the losing and therefore traitorous side) in the Blackfyre Rebellion; he leaves Ser Eustace’s service immediately.

And yet Dunk’s chivalrous side still stands up, and he protects Ser Eustace’s land and people despite having left his service because it’s the right thing to do. This gets him into yet another trial by combat, fighting Ser Lucas (who’s been out for Lady Webber’s hand in marriage for a while) to prove whether Lady Webber did or did not set fire (or send someone to set fire) to Ser Eustace’s drought-ridden forest.

The conflict begins with the stream, but it’s exacerbated by Ser Bennis, another hedge knight sworn to Ser Eustace, who’s Dunk’s foil in this story. He’s rude, slovenly, and quick-tempered. When he and Dunk confront the smallfolk workers who are building the dam that stops the water from entering Ser Eustace’s lands, he uses force to intimidate them and ultimately cuts one of them on the cheek. Up to that point, Ser Eustace had a beef with Lady Webber, but when Ser Bennis attacks one of Lady Webber’s smallfolk, Lady Webber now has an even more legitimate beef with Ser Eustace (since it turns out Ser Eustace has no legal claim to the stream anyway).

Ser Eustace puts Dunk and Bennis in charge of training the few smallfolk he has (and they actually get names this time!) to fight in case Lady Webber attacks. Watching this upsets Egg because he knows the farmers have no chance against knights like Ser Lucas. Part of why he’s out here, of course, is to learn that smallfolk have names and lives and are people, not cannon-fodder. He still shows some difficulty with this, throwing Dunk’s remark about knights not naming their horses because it makes it harder when they die back at him; they shouldn’t have given the smallfolk their own names (all of them are named some variation of Wat or Willis) because it will make it harder when they die. That he’s concerned about the fate of the smallfolk is good; that he’s talking about them like they’re pets isn’t. Egg wants to stop the whole fight by using the Targaryen signet ring he keeps in his boot, but Dunk won’t let him, partially because it could put Egg’s life in danger and partially because this sort of thing is exactly why he’s squired to a hedge knight.

In order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, Eustace sends Dunk to offer Lady Webber a blood price for the injury to her peasant man. Rohanne isn’t interested, instead insisting that Eustace turn over Bennis. Eustace isn’t willing to do that, so Rohanne comes to get him—though she denies burning down the forest. Dunk puts himself in the place of the smallfolk they’ve been training, despite having left Eustace’s service by this point, and goes to treat with Rohanne. He sacrifices his own pride by slicing open his cheek as repayment for the injured smallfolk, then letting her in on Egg’s identity and what will happen if Dunk dies here. Rohanne takes that, but she also objects to Eustace accusing her of burning the forest, at which point she demands trial by combat. In the middle of the stream. Dunk wins, but gets beaten half to death in the process.

While he’s recuperating, Rohanne and Eustace put aside their pride enough to talk to each other, and decide the best way to handle their mutual issues is to get married. Rohanne needs a husband, Eustace wants the prestige of his house back. Eustace lost all his children in the Rebellion; Rohanne was in love with one of those children, who’s now buried on Eustace’s land. Marrying means Eustace’s smallfolk can have some of the water because the lands are joined. In other words, all of this could have been avoided if it weren’t for the pride of the lords and ladies. Given that they’re very minor lords and ladies, the amount of pride they have is rather outsized, as well.

Poor Dunk is the only one who comes out of this without his pride salved. He manages to develop a pretty major crush on Rohanne, as well, and she says at one point that if he weren’t just a hedge knight, she’d marry him. While he’s unconscious from the fight, Rohanne and Eustace get married, so he wakes up to discover that any chance he had for any kind of relationship with Rohanne is gone. So he leaves, but not before Rohanne gives him a new horse and he steals a kiss and a lock of hair.

Martin’s issues with the common folk are much less pronounced in this story than they are in A Song of Ice and Fire and “The Hedge Knight.” They’re not just a faceless mob here; they have names and personalities. The nobility still treat them like trash (Rohanne, for example, turns down Dunk’s offer of a blood price knowing that the injured peasant—Wolmer—would probably have liked the money and refers to him as “some peasant”), but at least the narrative shows that this is a really bad attitude instead of subtly (and probably accidentally) reinforcing it.

His issues with women are also less here; Rohanne is a well-developed, strong character and the only time her breasts are mentioned is when Dunk has a dream about her being naked. There are still far more male characters than female ones, even in Rohanne’s court. Rohanne’s insistence on being “strong” in a male fashion is explicitly addressed; Rohanne says if she can’t hold the land the way a man would, she’d be summarily removed from power.

There’s one really interesting side mention that comes up several times in “The Sworn Sword,” and that’s Brynden “Bloodraven” Rivers’ position as Hand of the King. Those who have read A Song of Ice and Fire and paid close attention will recognize Brynden as the Targaryen bastard who served Aerys I through three Blackfyre Rebellions but was imprisoned for murder when Aegon V took the throne. He swore to the Night’s Watch, was escorted north by Dunk himself (along with Maester Aemon), became Lord Commander of the Watch, then disappeared while ranging north of the Wall, reappearing in the narrative when Bran Stark encounters him in a cave far north, calling himself the three-eyed raven. (On a very side note, this is why I’m confused that Game of Thrones calls Bran “the three-eyed crow” like it’s a title; there’s all sorts of reasons to call Brynden a raven or a crow, but zero reason to refer to Bran that way.)

Next week: the last of the Dunk and Egg novellas (so far) sees the duo embroiled in intrigue at a tourney again.

Art by Gary Gianni from A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms