GAME OF THRONES RECAP: IT CAN ALWAYS BE WORSE
Spoilers for the seventh episode of Season 5 of Game of Thrones follow, obviously.
We’ve reached a fascinating point in Game of Thrones: Not only is the show departing dramatically from the plot of George R. R. Martin’s books, but they’re catching up to them, and even moving beyond them. As I dissect the changes between the two, I’ll do my best not to spoil any important plot points. But remember: We’re entering uncharted territory where we won’t always know what a spoiler, or the “real” story, actually is.
This week several very precious gifts are either demanded or offered: the life of a daughter, vengeance against a hated foe, the antidote to a deadly poison, and Tyrion Lannister himself.
Daenerys & Jorah
As they lie in bed together, Daario offers a proposal to the newly engaged Daenerys: “Marry me instead.” She rolls her eyes a little, and essentially says that she’s way too smart to pull a Robb Stark. Besides, Hizdahr has made good on his promise: The Sons of the Harpy have stopped their attacks. Daario suggests that perhaps they’ve stopped because their leader was just announced as the future king. He’s jealous, of course, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. He offers another suggestion, this one far more practical: on the day of the great games, gather all of the opposition leaders together, and slaughter them. “I am a queen, not a butcher,” says the woman who crucified 163 men when she conquered Meereen. “All rulers are either butchers or meat,” Daario replies.
Not so far away, Jorah and Tyrion get sold off by the slavers and quickly find themselves at a fighting pit, preparing for their glorious deaths in a scene ripped straight out of Gladiator. Unbeknownst to Jorah—and the slaveowner running the fights—Queen Daenerys and her fiancé Hizdahr have decided to observe some of the lesser pit battles before the great games, as part of her new effort to respect Meereen’s gross traditions. As the men start to murder each other “for [her] glory,” Dany seems disgusted, and almost leaves—until Jorah bursts into the arena, his identity obscured by a helmet, and dashingly defeats every man in the pit without killing a single one.
Then comes the moment he’s been waiting for so long: He walks up to the dais where Daenerys is waiting and takes off his helmet. When she sees his face, her expression hardens: She has not forgiven him. “Get him out of my sight,” she shouts, right before Jorah blurts out that he’s brought her a gift, and moments later, Tyrion Lannister walks out and introduces himself. “I am the gift.”
In the books: Rather than heading immediately to the fighting pits and meeting up with Daenerys, Tyrion and Jorah get trapped in what feels like an endless, humiliating purgatory, getting bought and sold by horrible people and having horrible things happen to them. They eventually end up as sellswords in the Second Sons company, which is currently fighting against Daenerys (not for her), though Tyrion hopes to turn them to her side. I can’t overemphasize how tiresome and unpleasant all of it is; fast-forwarding through it is one of the show’s smartest elisions yet. And finally seeing Tyrion and Daenerys meet is so very satisfying, not to mention exciting. Yet another storyline has overtaken the books, and pushed ahead into the unknown.
Stannis
“We march to victory or we march to retreat, but we go forward. Only forward,” says Stannis, who is facing a fierce winter storm, dying horses, deserting sellswords, and a dwindling food supply en route to Winterfell. Davos suggests heading back to Castle Black, but then they’d have to spend the winter there, and Stannis’ cause would likely be lost.
With everything on the line, Stannis asks Melisandre if she’s really, really sure about their victory. Naturally she is, thanks to her magic fire visions, but she announces there will be a previously unmentioned cost for this victory: the blood of his daughter, Shireen. Furious at the idea, Stannis throws Melisandre out of his tent, but afterwards we see the opposing impulses warring on his face: his love for his family, and his ambition. While the answer might seem obvious—don’t murder your daughter!—he faced a somewhat similar struggle once before with his brother Renly, and it didn’t end well for the family side of things.
In the books: Melisandre stays at the Wall when Stannis heads south. He’s slowed by snowstorms, and the last we hear he’s still three days out from Winterfell. The idea of sacrificing Shireen never comes up; to the contrary, Stannis wants her put on the Iron Throne if he falls in battle.
Sansa
Theon brings a plate of food to Sansa, who now spends her days locked in her room, crying softly, until Ramsay arrives in the evening to rape her again. There are purple bruises on her arms, fingerprints of her lord husband. When Theon advises her to obey Ramsay or face his wrath, Sansa cries that it can’t get any worse, but Theon knows better: “It can always be worse.” Call it the unofficial motto of Game of Thrones.
Desperate, she begs her former foster brother to light a candle in the Broken Tower and summon the help the old woman promised. She tries to remind him of the man he used to be. “Your name is Theon Greyjoy. Do you hear me?” she says, pressing the candle into his hands. They grew up together, but perhaps she’s banking on the other thing they have in common now: suffering. We see Theon holding the candle, climbing the long circular steps… not to the Broken Tower but to Ramsay’s room, where he immediately sells Sansa out.
Later, Ramsay summons Sansa to meet him on the ramparts, where he waxes egotistic about how awesome it’s going to be when he’s the Lord of Winterfell. Sansa has taken a lot of shitty walks with self-congratulatory, sadistic fiancés, and she fearlessly deflates him by saying the dreaded b-word not once but twice: “You’re a bastard.” It’s a comment that might cost Theon a finger or two, but even Ramsay knows that he needs to keep Sansa in one piece, his nightly rapes not withstanding. Perhaps that’s why he punishes her for the escape attempt not by laying a finger on her, but by showing her the flayed body of the Northern woman who tried to help her. Hurting the people she cares about will have to do, at least for now. Still, we see Brienne watching from a distance, still waiting for the distant light of the candle in the window.
In the books: Ramsay marries Jeyne Poole, a girl from Winterfell whom the Boltons claim is Arya Stark, instead of Sansa. Before the wedding, she begs Theon to help her escape, offering to become his wife instead, but he refuses. After they are married and Ramsay starts to abuse her, the cries are heard throughout the castle; it’s said that the weeping of Ned Stark’s “daughter” could be more dangerous to the Bolton cause in the North “than all of Lord Stannis’ swords and spears.”
Jon & Sam
Jon heads north with Tormund to recruit the remaining Wildlings to his cause, prompting unpleasant glares from both Allister Thorne and that little kid whose parents were murdered in a Wildling raid. It’s unfortunate timing, as Maester Aemon is in the midst of dying, muttering about his younger brother Egg (aka King Aegon Targaryen V) as he fades away. Sam eulogizes him at the funeral the next day, and as they light the pyre, Allister notes that he seems to be losing all of his friends.
Later, Gilly finds herself cornered in a basement with two brothers of the Night’s Watch, and of course they try to rape her, because it wouldn’t be Game of Thrones unless rape rape rape rape rape. After Sam stands up for Gilly—and gets the crap kicked out of him for his trouble—Ghost appears out of nowhere and saves them. It feels like a strange non-sequitur, the way a lot of things felt in the last episode—but sure, ok. The attempted assault leads directly to a Sam-and-Gilly sex scene, because nothing gets a woman who’s been chronically raped for most of her life ready for lovin’ like two more men trying to rape her. I love you,Game of Thrones, but you handle rape scenes with the same grace and self-awareness as a drunk Jimmy McNulty driving a car.
In the books: Jon never goes north to recruit the windings with Tormund; instead, he sends Mance Rayder’s sister-in-law to recruit Tormund, who had been leading the Wildling survivors since their defeat at Castle Black. Maester Aemon dies, but not at this point in time. There is no assault on Gilly. She and Sam do develope a sexual relationship, however, including an infamous scene where his penis is hilariously described as a “fat pink mast.” George R. R. Martin is brilliant at crafting characters, histories and worlds, but steamy sex scenes? Not so much. See also: the passage where a woman’s genitalia is sensually described as a “Myrish swamp.”
Jaime & Bronn
Confined in a lordly room after his attempt to steal back Myrcella, Jaime is permitted to see his daughter/niece, though she’s less than pleased to see him. He explains that there were threats against her, and he’s come to take her home. “This is my home. This has been my home for years,” she shouts, every bit the teenager. “I love Trystane and I’m going to marry him.”
She sounds quite a lot like Sansa did once, though her Romeo seems considerably kinder than Joffrey. When Sansa faced the same situation, she sold out Ned to Cersei, so here’s hoping things end better for this father and daughter. Bronn remains locked in a far less noble prison, in a cell across from the Sand Snakes. He’s singing “The Dornishman’s Wife” again, but this time we finally hear the end: It’s about a man dying for the love of a woman.
Eagle-eyed viewers might have noticed that Bronn was cut by one of the Sand Snakes during the fight, and as we learned from Oberyn, the Dornish are fond of poisoning their blades. As Bronn flirts with one of the Sand Snakes, Tyene, she reveals that he’s dying of an Asshai concoction called The Long Farewell, and she has the only antidote. As he crumples to the ground, she opens her dress and asks him who the most beautiful woman in the world is. “You,” he whispers, and she tosses him the vial.
In the books: All of this is completely new. Jaime and Bronn never went to Dorne, the Sand Snakes never fought them—or tried to kill Myrcella—Bronn was never injured, and we see no conversation between Jaime and Myrcella. Myrcella’s only about eleven years old at this point in the books; she was likely aged up so the romance with Trystane could accelerate. We’re also told that she seems to have inherited the high intelligence of her uncle Tyrion (and grandfather Tywin), and is particularly good at the chess-like game of cyvasse—perhaps an indication that she might good at other games as well. In general, we see very little of Myrcella in the books, but perhaps the show might give her the chance to become more than a pawn.
Cersei & The Ladies Tyrell
The Queen of Thorns is back, and she decides it’s high time for a little talk with the High Sparrow. She finds the pseudo-pope scrubbing the floors of the sept, as diligently as a Jesuit. “A man of the people, is that your game? It’s an old game,” she says archly. “Dull and unconvincing.” But the High Sparrow might be even more radical than she realizes, if the “we are the 99 percent” speech he gives is any indication. “You are the few. We are the many,” he says, turning down her offer of riches. “And when the many stop fearing the few…” he trails off ominously.
Next, she meets Littlefinger at his ruined brothel, where she’s rightly suspicious of what her fairweather ally has been up to. She threatens to reveal his role in the death of Joffrey if her house falls, but like Jorah, Littlefinger has a gift of his own to offer: a mysterious, unnamed man.
While Myrcella and Jaime argue in Dorne, Tommen and Cersei have their own parent/child confrontation over Margaery’s imprisonment, or at least as much of a confrontation as the young king can muster. Cersei soothes him, promising to speak to the High Sparrow on her son’s behalf. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you from harm. I would burn cities to the ground,” she tells her son, and that much is true. She thinks she’s protecting him, even as she’s running his rule into the ground.
Cersei heads to the Red Keep, and stops to visit Margaery in her cell, which means it’s gloating time. Margaery lies on the floor, dirty and unkempt, as Cersei practically slathers her in faux-sympathy. “We are making every effort on your behalf,” purrs the Queen Regent. While Cersei’s brand of sadism is different from Ramsay’s, this is the sort of role play they both enjoy: pretending to be the perfect lord or lady on one hand while dishing out abuse with the other. She can’t help smiling a little as she leaves, hanging her own little MISSION ACCOMPLISHED banner in her mind, but her amusement won’t last long.
On her way out, she meets with her friend the High Sparrow. He offers a little parable about vanity and humility that quickly turns personal. “What will we find when we strip away your finery?” he asks, his once-kindly eyes now glittering with accusation. Out comes Lancel, the young cousin Cersei had an affair with and enlisted to kill Robert Baratheon by getting the king drunk on that fateful boar hunt. “He has much to say about you,” says the High Sparrow, right before several septas grab Cersei and toss her into a cell of her own.
In the books: While there are clues that hint at an alliance between Lady Olenna and Littlefinger, there’s nothing explicit. Loras is never arrested for homosexuality (which is also implied and not explicit), but Margaery does find herself in a cell when Cersei falsely accuses her of adultery with several men. One of them is Ser Osney Kettleblack, an operative of Cersei’s whom the Queen Regent had slept with herself. When the High Sparrow has Kettleblack tortured to learn the truth, he reveals his affair with Cersei as well as how she secretly ordered the death of the previous High Septon, and into a cell she goes. The High Sparrow seems to be manipulating Cersei from the beginning in the books, but it’s not clear if that’s the case on the show. It raises an interesting question: Did the High Sparrow get tipped off to Cersei’s misdeeds by Lady Olenna and Littlefinger, or did he know about it from Lancel all along? Was he simply waiting until he had enough power to strike? Put differently, is he really as guileless as he seems, or has another player entered the game?
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