My stance on various ASOIAF conspiracy theories, Part 26

Thursday is theory day.

This is the twenty-seventh article of the series. Since there are a lot of theories floating out there and I'm asked often enough what I think of them, I thought I write it down. You can then laugh about me when I am totally proven wrong by "The Winds of Winter" or something like that. Rules are as follows: you put a question about any theory or plot element (really, let's stress "theory" a bit for the sake of interesting questions) either in the comments of any theory post or by mail (stefan_sasse@gmx.de) and I will answer them in an upcoming post. And if you now ask "Stefan, isn't this a shameless rip-off of Sean T. Collin's "Ask me anything"?", I would tell you to shut up, because you are right.

Prepare for part 27. Spoilers for "A Song of Ice and Fire", obviously.  

Review: George R. R. Martin - The Rogue Prince

In the newest anthology he edited, "Rogues", George R. R. Martin included the aptly named "The Rogue Prince". Like with his previous anthology, "Dangerous Women", which included "The Princess and the Queen", "The Rogue Prince" is a fragment of a much larger text about the Dance of the Dragons and its inception, the shattering Targaryen civil war that happened way over 150 before the events of the novel series proper. This (shorter) issue concerns itself with the history leading up to the death of Viserys I, where "The Princess and the Queen" began, a story that by a benign reader might be read as dominated by the titular Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen. Alas, I'm not benign.

The only picture of the Princess and the Rogue Prince I could find.

Book report: A Feast for Crows

In the reviews of the previous three books I repeatedly mentioned, that while they are intricately and expertly plotted, the literary quality of the series performs a leap with the next two books, which together form the "Feastdance". We can see this quite clearly with "A Feast for Crows", which, when it was released in 2005, created some consternation. After the flurry of endings and payoffs that was "A Storm of Swords", this book seemed like a letdown to many, not following up on the breathless quality of its predecessor. That is understandable, as it began its inception as a written-out version of the ill-fated five-year-gap.

Book report: A Storm of Swords

Continuing my reread, I've now finished "A Storm of Swords", and once again, I won't assume you need any kind of synopsis and quickly delve into the analysis. In the first book, my main theme was early installement weirdness, and in the second book, I focused on the expanding scope of the story and the developing of some themes. "A Storm of Swords" continues along these lines, but the two major aspects I want to discuss is the flurry of endings and what they're purpose is, namely setting up the five-year gap.

Book report: "A Clash of Kings"

After I tackled "A Game of Thrones" in BLAP 58, concentrating on Early Installement Weirdness, I recently completed my reread of "A Clash of Kings", and so I want to give you my report here. Of course, you know the book, I knew the book, so I'm not reciting the plot and tell you it's a damn good book, but I'd rather make some stray observations.

Book report: Game of Thrones

Like most of you (I gather), I reread "A Song of Ice and Fire" about once per year, or near enough as makes no matter. For this reread, I want to focus on the structure of "A Game of Thrones", a kind of meta-analysis, if you will, and especially concentrate on "early installment weirdness". That term relates to the first volume of a series, or the first episode, or whatever your medium might be, and how it usually is a bit rough on the edges. Ideas are not fully formed yet, characters not really "there", and there are elements that didn't work and were consequently dropped.

There's a surprisingly big amount of that. It shouldn't really be surprising, given that Martin started writing this almost thirty years ago (in 1993!), but compared to the later novels or the (finished!) TV series, it is rather noticable. For example, there is Tyrion's artistic ability, never brought up again until Martin retroactively put a lid on it in "A Dance with Dragons" by explaining it as an artifact of his backstory.

 

Such details pale towards plot elements that stem from Martin's original outline. There is the groundwork laid for the later three-way-romance between Tyrion, Jon and Arya (mercifully dropped already by the end of the novel, but if you know that Martin planned for this, it's clear to see). Jon's relationship with Arya is strongly established and has little payoff in the novels following it; Robb is the much more important fixpoint for Jon's memories of home.

 

There's the groundwork laid for the later planned destruction of Winterfell at Tyrion's hands. The wolves' aggression towards Tyrion, his strong connection to the place, the tragic of his friendship to Jon - both in terms of the planned romance with Arya and the destruction of his childhood home - all point towards that direction.

 

There's the groundwork laid for Catelyn's journey beyond the Wall, as when she is the primary conduit for the dark premonitions about the Land Beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder and the Others. When she hopes that Eddard will have gotten her pregnant again after they had sex in her first chapter, we see an echo of the child birth that was supposed to be her death in that frozen wasteland (a plot thread that Martin returned to with alarming regularity since).

 

There are also many elements that, would he write "A Game of Thrones" now, would be there but are absent. The most glaring for me is the lack of references. Eddard Stark becomes Hand of the King, but no one compares him to Cregan Stark, which would be an obvious comparison, especially for Pycelle, Varys and Littlefinger. The behavior of people towards Eddard as the first Stark Hand since Cregan makes no sense at all now that "The Hour of the Wolf" is a thing, but of course, it was not yet conceived back then.

 

People instead tread Ned as a provincial, a bit unrefined and straightforward, much as he is written. But given what we know about Targaryen history by now, there should be a lot darker and much more concrete biases at work. The same goes for kingsguard, king and nobility in general, the Dothraki and the role of the Free Cities - none of it is grounded in the detailed history Martin has written since. One can debate, I guess, the wisdom of creating all that stuff afterwards.

 

The same is true of several regions: the Iron Islands are treated as an afterthought; they will be developed as a solution after Tyrion cannot destroy Winterfell anymore because his plot leads to King's Landing. Dorne is only mentioned in passing. The Tyrells likewise. There's no mention of the Crownlands. And so on.

 

The novel itself remains the weakest of the entire series when we talk about intricacy of plotting and depth of character. It is "only" an extremely well written political thriller set in a low-fantasy world. The main threads are Ned's investigation in Jon Arryn's death - a mystery that will only be solved in the finale of "A Storm of Swords"! - and the political fallout of the Lannister intrigue against Robert Baratheon.

 

What is very noticable is the tight plotting on the one hand - chapters are following directly on each other and deliver the consequences of the actions of the previous chapter much of the time, instead of following unconnected threads, with the notable exception of Daenerys' arc. But even Dany gets connected to the main plot via the murder attempt and the fears of Robert in a way that will not be true in the following novels.

 

It's even more pronounced with Jon's arc, which is so carefully plotted that each revelation comes just too late for Jon to take a different course, perfectly calibrated to play out his inner struggles with his dual identity between Stark and Night's Watch.

 

That is not to take away from an, once again, extremely well written novel. But especially compared to Feastdance, the lack of themes, the close interconnectedness of character arcs with the plot, and above all, the careful construction of the plot stick out. It is incredible on how many chances and coincidences the plot hinges. The fates in the person of Martin have their thumbs on the scales, HARD.

 

Once again, all of that is not take away from "A Game of Thrones". It makes it, however, the least "A Song of Ice and Fire"-y of all the novels. It's no wonder that Martin was able to write the first three novels so much faster than the last three. The main challenge here is to think about which character best to tell which event through, as to obfuscate and set up most effectively. But there is no question who is present where when; Martin only needs to choose. There is no Meereenese Knot, no question of which character will arrive when where to which effect, how to make time jumps and so on. It's almost quaint. And if you know "A Game of Thrones", you know what that means for the series at large. It's a breathtaking accomplishment. One can only stand in awe of Martin's abilities.

Tyrion and Cersei, parent ersatz

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Another thing that came to me while listening to NotACast's disection of ACOK Sansa III was the question of how the hell Joffrey could be reigned in by the two misfit siblings if they had actually had more ability for self-reflection and cooperation. It's a long shot, I know, but it reminds me of my BLAP about Tyrion and Tywin getting along. Yes, unlikely, and yes, it would be a different story, but how could they actually go about it if they were so inclined? 

Robb Stark attacks through the Ardennes with elephants

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The other side of northern badassery

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look! 

There's a thought that come to me randomly thinking about the part of "A Dance with Dragons" in which the greybeards of several northern houses join up mainly (though not exclusively) with Stannis. In the text, we get the explanation that, with winter looming, they go on what essentially is a suicide mission to relieve their communities of useless mouths. Instead of doing it as literal suicide, as seems common in the North (disguised as "going hunting"), they use their death wish to "taste Bolton blood on my lips" (there's an image for you). 

Time and place in ASOIAF

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look! 

George R. R. Martin is a prolific and excellent writer. One of the biggest problems he has to wrestle with are the constraints of time and place. He famously labored for years over the "Meereenese Knot", the question which character would arrive in Meereen at which point on time, the conclusion of which determined the whole solution to "A Dance with Dragons". Given that that solution took the last third of the novel, that is quite a tall order. 

Life is not a song

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look!
 

„Life is not a song, sweetling. Some day you may learn that, to your sorrow.” – Peter Baelish

Littlefinger is right, of course. Life is definitely not a song. However, that statement comes in the Song of Ice and Fire, which makes this into an almost philosophical riddle. Life is not a song, but if you are a character in one and know that, can you use it to your advantage? Fourth-Wall breaking has a long tradition in literature, and Martin is no stranger to the concept. So, if life is a song after all – or, to quote Shakespeare, the world a stage and we all players – then who exactly is cognizant of this fact? 

Kingsguard in the concentration camps

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look!

 The shades dismounted from  their ghostly horses. When they drew their longswords, it made not a  sound. "He was going to burn the city," Jaime said. "To leave Robert  only ashes."

 "He was your king," said Darry.  

"You swore to keep him safe," said Whent.

Telling yourself, ADWD

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As PoorQuentyn noted, characters in "A Song of Ice and Fire" are often  marked by Martin to be wrong when they're "telling themselves" things.  So I decided to make a search through the text and record all instances  where they're doing this to see if the theory holds up, continuing with  "A Storm of Swords".  

Sam, Skagos and the Feastdance

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Rereading "A Feast for Crows", I came upon an interesting tidbid: when the ship with Sam, Gilly and Aemon passes Skagos, there's a lof of world-building going on:  

A Gardener's Coin

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Rereading "A Feast for Crows" currently, I was struck by the detail of the golden coin that Qyburn turns up in "Rugen's" cell. That coin, dating back to the Gardener kings and subsequently turning out to be used by the Queen of Thorns to cheat on local merchants, was just a detail in the great political plot until it got me wondering this reread around.

Telling yourselves, AFFC

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look!
As PoorQuentyn noted, characters in "A Song of Ice and Fire" are often marked by Martin to be wrong when they're "telling themselves" things. So I decided to make a search through the text and record all instances where they're doing this to see if the theory holds up, continuing with "A Feast for Crows". 

"Sons of the Dragon" review

It’s a well-known story that George R. R. Martin, when asked to provide some (comparatively small) segments to the epos of “The World of Ice and Fire”, went wildly over any word budget and wrote tens of thousands of words about the beginning of the Dance of the Dragons, of which only a few hundred made into the final text. The rest was published in form of two novellas, in wrong chronological order, and received pretty mixed reviews. While many liked more background for the shaping events of Westerosi history, others bemoaned the relative lack of the character-driven drama that fuels the series proper as well as the Dunk&Egg novellas. Whichever group you belong to, the next novella in that series (which Martin plans to compile into one giant volume called “Fire and Blood” later down the road) will not change your mind. 

Telling yourself, ASOS

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look!

As PoorQuentyn noted, characters in "A Song of Ice and Fire" are often marked by Martin to be wrong when they're "telling themselves" things. So I decided to make a search through the text and record all instances where they're doing this to see if the theory holds up, continuing with "A Storm of Swords".

Confirming each other's suspicions

This post comes out of a new series of writing I do on ASOIAF meta and other topics of popular culture over at the Patreon of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour. If you like to read stuff like this, chime in just 1$ and you get access to everything I write. If you throw in 2$, you even get access to mini-podcasts I'm doing with Sean T. Collins answering questions by listeners of the podcast. Give the Patreon a look!

One of the most interesting features in the relationship between the Lannister siblings is how they are each confirming and strengthening the suspicions they have about each other. This dynamic becomes notable for the first time in „A Clash of Kings“, when we can see from Tyrion’s POV how his actions are misperceived by Cersei, but how Tyrion at the same turn is absolutely blind to how his actions are perceived (while we as readers remain salient about this fact). Nowhere is this more evident as in Tyrion’s scheme to poison Cersei into suffering from diarrhea, where Cersei (as will later be confirmed in her POV) thinks he’s out to destroy her family and her. 

 

Tyrion, of course, has his own suspicions about Cersei, is mistrustful and prepares. Matters come to a head when Tyrion brings Tommen in his possession because he doesn’t trust Cersei’s security measures and mistakenly thinks it gives him an added layer of protection. Cersei retaliates with full force (moderation not being her thing and all), bringing Alalaya in her possession, which only leads to Tyrion ushering threats, which of course Cersei takes as a sweeping confirmation of all his guilt (and likely to the order to Mandon Moore to kill Tyrion). 

 

Tyrion likely only thought about hurting Cersei on a personal level, but the volonqar-prophecy hanging over her head leads her to assume that he’s on an omnicidial mission to destroy all of her and her children in one fell swoop. It’s only his impotence in „A Storm of Swords“ that prevents the escalation ladder to move forward on Tyrion’s part, but Cersei only suspects worse plots – which are of course reinforced by every uninhibited utterance from Tyrion, by every attempt of the imp to retaliate against Joffrey. Tyrion doesn’t understand why Cersei protects her vile son against all sense, and how can he? The volonqar doesn’t have a clue about the prophecy he takes center stage in. 

But the toxic relationship also swirls up Jaime when he returns to King’s Landing. After his rash confession to Tyrion after the rescue, Tyrion hurls poisonous insults at Cersei (and Jaime), which lead Jaime to weigh every word and action of Cersei’s in „A Feast for Crows“ on Tyrion’s scale, seeing confirmation of Cersei’s adultery in every action (and rightly so), getting further and further estranged from his sister until he finally throws her plea for help into the fires of a winterly hearth. 

Even Cercei’s governance in „A Feast for Crows“ is dominated by seeing Tyrion’s hand in everything that happens, any problem that comes up. How can he not be the driving factor, given that his hands are about to choke her perfect white neck? Of course, she finds proof for these assumptions all the time, which lead her to make Lord Bronn into an enemy, lose allies left and right and ultimately lose her position totally. 

 

But it would be too much to attribute this wholly to the three Lannister children alone. It was the loving nurturing of Tywin, who perceived the whole existence of Tyrion as a slight, no matter what his son did, and to assume his daughter was only a glorified brood mare no matter what she did. No wonder the kids turned out as damaged as they are, confirming each other’s suspicions as they go.

Tommen and Myrcella are dead meat (series on changes from HBO series)

This text is an exclusive sneak preview to an upcoming essay of mine for the series on the "Tower of the Hand" for characters that are dead in the show but still alive in the books. Read it here before it goes live on the Tower of the Hand! 

Prophecies do not lie. Humans may misunderstand them, but some of them are much clearer than others, and all of them come true, at least in a fashion. If a prophecy tells you that your children will die in infancy, with golden shrouds, as a consequence of the “younger, more beautiful queen” taking your place, there really isn’t that much wiggling room. Cersei is justified in being paranoid about the impending doom of her children, and in books and series alike, she’s responsible with her actions for what’s happening, bringing about the prophecy she works so hard to unravel.