Go through any literature course, even the sort you get in middle school, and you’ll be introduced to the idea that stories go up and down. There’s the rising action that moves like mountaneers ascending the Matterhorn, the climax somewhere up there on the snowy peak, and then things get wrapped up quickly as the surviving characters come gratefully back to earth.
But with many stories, and Game of Thrones is definitely one of them, the course of the work is better described in terms of scope, or space—of moving out and coming in. Of entropy. For the first five seasons of the show, and for essentially the whole of the work as it exists on paper, the story has been one of characters spreading out. The distance between the people we knew at the opening of the work—those still attached to their heads—has both literally and figuratively grown farther apart. They’ve not only scattered around the globe, they’ve each gone on their own version of the hero’s journey, even though it would take a fair degree of cynicism to describe many of them as heroes.
The narrative has gone out, and out, and out … if the stories told around that point, in both mediums, started to seem like they were running out of air, it’s because they were. The fuel that made things burn in earlier seasons—friendships, conflicts, family—had become so rarefied that it simply couldn’t sustain a nice blaze. In the books, Martin made an attempt to patch over this period of near-vacuum by introducing new characters and plot lines. Most of which, thankfully, we’ve been spared when it comes to the video version.
The separation of characters and the extreme differences between their various experiences also made it more difficult for the multi-viewpoint story to stay in sync. This led to experiences such as that of poor Sam Tarly, who spent the better part of a season crossing a stretch of water—a plot line so devoid of action that the show runners lifted a character death from another section of the story and dropped it onto the boat, just so something would happen. It was painful (and I say this as an author who once purposely got a character lost in a department store, just to kill time).
But, somewhere in the first third of season six, the wind shifted. That long, long outflow began to move inward. Characters who had been apart began rushing toward each other. Consequences of events that had seemed to happen without notice, became obvious. The dead hand of entropy was replaced by the driving force of plot. And now the only problem is that the inrush threatens to become an implosion.
Jon and Daenerys and Tyrion
Thank goodness this is up first, because it allows me to get to best lines of the night.
Missandei: You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Rightful Queen to the Andals and First Men. Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. The Mother of Dragons. The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. The Unburnt. The Breaker of Chains.
Davos: This is Jon Snow. [Long pause.] He’s King in the North.
It’s not just a nice moment of dialog, and a chance to smile in what is really a rather grim episode, it’s a bit of byplay that terrifically showcases the characters. Everything about Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen is presented as opposite, from the way they’re dressed, to their manner of speaking and even their movements. The idea that they are ice and fire—and also bluntness and grace—get’s spelled out to us in every way it can.
The difference between Jon and Dany helps make more clear than ever before that this narrative is really two narratives. One is the story of the fight for the Iron Throne—a story that, shorn of dragons and the occasional shadow baby, is all about … what’s that phrase? A game of thrones. Ambitious people maneuvering for power at all costs. The other story is very different. Jon Snow isn’t fighting for the Night King’s throne. He’s not interesting in conquering the lands north of the Wall. He’s fighting for survival. In good video game terms, one story is a strategy warfare game. The other is survival horror.
This is not exactly an easily resolved issue. As Ser Davos says, it matters little whose skeleton sits on the Iron Throne if the White Walkers and their army of wights slip past the Wall. On the other hand, who rules the Seven Kingdoms stands to be very important not just to the person who occupies the world’s most uncomfortable chair, but also to the many thousands of people who hope to eventually stop playing stabby-stabby at a time when they should be pulling in crops for the winter.
Where those two games cross is right there in the throne room at Dragonstone, as Jon tries to convince Dany that her game has no meaning and Dany tries to turn Jon into a piece in that game. Neither makes a lot of progress toward those goals, but they do at least reach a level of detente that will allow Jon to mine some obsidian from Dragonstone to take back to the North — assuming Dany ever allows him to leave.
The discussion between Jon and Daenerys is cut short by the news that Euron Greyjoy has hit the fleet heading for Dorne, not just sinking almost all the ships, but making off with the Sand Snakes. For Dany, this immediately knocks two allies off the board and destroys her plan to take King’s Landing by seige.
Meanwhile, the cliffs around Dragonstone are everybody’s favorite place to chat. Not only do Tyrion and Jon have a brood-off, Varys corners Melisandre for a “thanks, now go” conversation. The red priestess confesses to making some terrible mistakes, and says the next time she comes to Westeros it will be to die. She also says the same of Varys … conversation or prediction? Hard to tell.
Sansa and Bran
At Winterfell, Jon has conveniently forgotten to take care of the most basic logistics of supply, which allows us to be given a neat shorthand about Sansa’s growing competence as she preps Winterfell for winter’s fall. And we spend a fair amount of time eyeing Littlefinger’s knowing-leer and pondering the many, many ways in which he should be dead by now. It’s worth pointing out with some regularity that, were it not for Littlefinger, Ned Stark would likely still be sitting in the Great Hall at Winterfell and about a million people would be not-dead in the good way. Of course, if Jon hadn’t been sent to the Wall, either the Night’s Watch or the Wildlings would likely have been completely slaughtered and the Army of the Dead might be halfway to King’s Landing. But Littlefinger didn’t know that. He’s evil. That’s the point.
Littlefinger’s plotting is temporarily interrupted when Bran makes a homecoming. Sansa is overjoyed to see her little brother, but everybody has been on their own journey and no one’s may be stranger than Bran’s. Not only is he unable to give a good explanation for the Three-eyed Raven business (an explanation I think we’d all like to hear) he Goes There when his first example of being able to “see everything” is to note that he saw Sansa on the night of her horrible forced marriage to Ramsay Bolton. Yeeck.
When you add Arya into this mix, we’re going to have a group of kids that went off and really got screwed up in their own special ways. Jon Snow, the guy who died and came back, ends up being the most normal one of the bunch.
Cersei and Euron and Jaime
Euron arrives back in King’s Landing towing Ellaria Sand, one of the Sand Snakes (I don’t know which one, because they’ve always been interchangeable) and niece Yara. He makes a present of Ellaria, which earns him a promise of “what his heart desires” but only “when the war is won.” Odds that Cersei intends to go through with a marriage to Euron? Zero point zero percent. But Cap’n Jack Greyjoy’s teasing of Jaime is still pretty priceless.
Cersei has had plenty of time to think of an awful end for Ellaria Sand, who killed poor guileless Princess Myrcella. She delivers the same sealed-with-a-kiss poison to Sand Snake #3 as Myrcella received, then arranges it so Ellaria can watch, but not offer so much as a word of comfort, while her daughter slowly dies.
Giving good torture clearly gets Cersei revved up, as she races back to Jaime and practically drags him to bed. And hey, are we sure she wiped that deadly lipstick off before she kissed him?
Sam and Jorah
And … tah dah. In a single day, Sam has managed to save Jorah from the grip of greyscale, eradicating the disease so well that Mormont is sent on his way with a hearty handshake. Sam gets a mix of chiding and praise and … plot point checked off.
Lady Olenna and Jaime
With half of Dany’s fleet smashed up by Euron, the other half is off delivering the Unsullied to Casterly Rock. Thanks to Tyrion, they’ve got a secret way in and only a few hundred die taking the castle (which is a miracle, since with weapons and armor that were designed for open field formation fighting, the Unsullied have an effectiveness in close-quarter combat that’s about equal to that of a declawed anteater). But it soon becomes clear that the reason for the easy victory wasn’t just Tyrion’s knowledge of the castle’s plumbing. Most of the Lannister army is engaged elsewhere.
Elsewhere turns out to be Highgarden, and the Lannister troops (who, hey look, do know how to follow close order drills) look genuinely splendid as they crush token resistance and close in on Lady Olenna. Note the presence of Sam’s father, Lord Tarly, who has been promised the whole of the South, as well as sellsword-turned-knight Bronn, who can be expected to have to make a Jaime / Tyrion choice pretty soon now.
Jaime confronts the matriarch of the nearly-extinct House Tyrell, whose tongue has lost not a bit of its sharpness in defeat. She offers various reviews of Cersie, including “She’s a disease and I regret my role in spreading it” (zing). She also warns Jaime repeatedly that Cersei will be his ruin … but he seems pretty well ruined already. Still, he offers Olenna an easy death — only to have her reveal at the last second that she was behind the poisoning of the late, and not much missed, Joffrey. Way to get in that last dig, Olenna.
Points to note
- Jon is apparently reluctant to share the news of his death and magical revival. Maybe not a bad thing when you’re trying to convince everyone that they should be fighting the undead.
- When Littlefinger hears that there is a copy of every note delivered to Winterfell by raven, he gives a very visible wince. Odds are very good that somewhere in those little bird-scrolls is proof that Littlefinger did considerable plotting with the Boltons and / or knew of Ramsay’s proclivities.
- The inrush of characters and plot lines makes for some absurd timing. Sure, that could be another part of Euron’s fleet that shows up to clobber Dany’s last group of ships off Casterly Rock, but it sure does seem like Savoir-Unfaire is everywhere!
- When Martin said he was going to wrap this thing up in two more volumes, it seemed like a tall order for something that had spent five books spreading itself all over the globe. That turns out to be true. Trying to force closure on all the open plot lines means that many, like Jorah’s illness, are going to get pretty perfunctory treatment.
- Just an episode ago, the council of Daenerys, Yara, Ellaria, and Olenna looked pretty darn potent. Now half of them are dead and one of them is a prisoner. Oops. Which leads us to ...
Theme of the week: Everyone underestimates Cersei
We were told from the opening season that Cersei is often overlooked. Her father traded her off for political advantage. Her uncle ignores her advice. Her own son refuses to listen to her. Tyrion, who is the closest thing we have to an audience surrogate, goes out of his way to throw scorn at her.
And yes. She’s terrible in many, many, many ways.
But she’s also a lot smarter than most of the people who have been pushing her around. Both Ellaria Sand and Olenna Tyrell at points in the arc appear to be “better” versions of Cersei. More crafty. Deeper thinking. And … no. As Olenna says in her final speech, she’s done horrible things in her efforts to secure an edge for House Tyrell, but Cersei has done unimaginable things. The implication may be that the reason for this is that Cersei is unburdened by morality, but really — how much morality has either Olenna or Ellaria demonstrated. Or Arya. Or just about anyone still alive not named Brienne? Everyone thought they were smarter than Cersei, and guess who won.
The one person who appreciates Cersie? That other greatly underrated woman, Sansa Stark.
Cersei now controls everything but the North and flyspeck that is Dragonstone. She’s in a position to put her own henchmen in charge of Dorne and the Reach, and the capture of House Tyrell gives her a source of cash to address her problems with the Iron Bank. From being reduced to titular queen of three bankrupt kingdoms, Cersei has quickly gained control of much more of Westeros than her vaunted father could manage. So there, dammit.
Meanwhile, it’s not clear that Dany has enough ships left to even get her Dothraki off that rock, much less threaten King’s Landing. She has the dragons, but how she will use them seems a little … up in the air? (sorry)
And also meanwhile, up until now it’s seemed reasonable for Jon Snow to ignore all the warnings about Lannisters and keep his lances pointed north. That’s no longer true. Since Cersei has cleared the field to the south and repaired her bank account, she’s now free to march on Winterfell. Unless he gets his smoky glass and heads home soon, Sansa may get to face off with her frienemy.
Dear Jon Snow and/or Sansa: If the Lannisters get close to Winterfell, don’t trust Littlefinger to have your back.