Thoughts on Game of Thrones...

Okay, let's do this...

First, here's a quick reminder of my relationship with Game of Thrones. I have read the first three books of George R.R. Martin's series, but not seen the first five seasons of the show in their entirety. Partly because of the show's sexual violence, and partly because back in 2011 I had no way of getting hold of full episodes, my knowledge of the story was garnered through YouTube clips and popculture osmosis.

For the most part I entertained myself with on-line discussion (which I often find more interesting than actual shows - if you're a long-time reader of this blog, you probably already know that) and all the essential clips (which helpfully left out most of the gratuitous violence and rape).

But by the time season six rolled around, the show had overtaken the unfinished book series and I admit to being fascinated by the idea of a show continuing to tell a story beyond the reach of its source material. As they said frequently in the promotional material for that year: "you have no idea what's coming next." To my knowledge, a show outpacing the material it's based on had never happened before (at least not till The Handmaid's Tale), and that whole concept intrigued me.

I wanted to see how things would be handled - so ironically, I hopped on the bandwagon at about the same time everyone else began to sour on the show.

But I always considered myself a casual viewer. There was no one character I really rooted for, and only two relationships I found appealing: Arya/Sansa and Daenerys/Jorah. The idea of two feuding sisters finding their way back to each other after going through profoundly different life experiences was a slam-dunk premise, and I was always incredibly moved by Jorah's love and devotion to Daenerys. Yes, I realize that this relationship is VERY different in the books, with Jorah being creepily obsessed with her (not to mention unattractive and bald) but in the show it was unrequited love between a loyal knight and unattainable queen played out to perfection.

And the show kept it promises with these two. Okay, so the lead-up to Littlefinger's death was inexplicable, but at least the pay-off worked, and Jorah's death was beautifully handled, in which he dies in Dany's arms after continuing to stand and fight until the moment he knows she's safe. (According to Emilia Clarke, Dany's eyes are finally opened in that moment, meaning that though Jorah may have lived in the friendzone, he didn't die in it, which is just the kind of heartrending "I realized I loved you too late" shit that I adore. (See also: Jyn/Cassian, Allan/Djaq).

And throughout the whole thing there were some incredible moments, big and small, from Cersei blowing up the Sept with wildfire, to Sansa's reunion with Jon at Castle Black (still chokes me up), from Dany's magnificent long-con in acquiring the Unsullied, to Brienne getting knighted at last, from Jaime leaping into that bear pit, to the Battle of Hardhome.

But here's the thing: despite my assertion to myself and others that I was only a casual fan, we were three episodes out from the finish line when I guessed where things were heading, read the leaks, and discovered to my horror that I was more invested in Daenerys than I realized.

Congratulations, I played myself.

So I checked out. I have not watched the final three episodes, and I never will. But after a few days of feeling absolutely sickened (seriously, I haven't been this disgusted by a television show since Maid Marian was brutally killed off on the BBC's Robin Hood back in 2007) I compartmentalized, took what I wanted from the show and moved on. See the title of my blog? "They're All Fictional" is a reminder to myself to not let myself get too worked up over people who aren't real.

So I'll spare you that oft-quoted remark from Ramsay Bolton that's been doing the rounds, but here's the thing...

I think deep down, despite the all the violence, the despair, the relentless abuse, it's human nature to search for meaning and hope for success. Admit it, we were all hoping that this motley group of characters we'd followed for eight years: rape victims, abuse survivors, eunuchs, dwarfs, ex-slaves, bastards and broken people, victims of horrific violence one and all; the best and worst that the Starks, the Lannisters and the Targaryans had to offer, would all face an existential threat and realize that there was something bigger than their own suffering, that there were some things in the world worth fighting for, that they could overcome their abusive pasts and find a way to work together in the hope of a better future...

And for one night, they did.

But that long night ended, and life was waiting for them on the other side. The threat of extinction wasn't enough to erase their pasts or the abuse they had endured, and the writing decreed that they would fall back into their old habits of power-plays and in-fighting.

That sucks.

No one expected a fairy tale ending, but no one wanted despair and nihilism either. No one wanted to walk away thinking that humanity wasn't worth it, that the Night King should have won.

So I don't regret ending things at the end of episode three. It was a high note and saw all the characters at their best. I'm happy pretending it ended there, and if nothing else, fandom's response to the last three episodes is a valuable lesson as to how we should tell our own stories.

But with all said and done, there's a major point of contention at work here: was Dany's heel-face turn earned? For my money: hell no. You don't have to agree, but I'm not here to argue the point, just vent a little.

There are a number of obnoxious posts going around ridiculing anyone who didn't see this coming, insisting that Dany's tactics and treatment of anyone who opposed her over the last seven seasons was foreshadowing for her decision to torch King's Landing. To that I say: context is everything, and looking around it's equally obvious that people aren't so much railing against the Mad Queen twist as they are the lack of groundwork.

That groundwork is apparent in the books. YEARS ago I read a compelling fan-theory that speculated Dany would end up being the final villain of the story, which is in keeping with Martin's themes of "power is bad", "beware of saviours" and "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" - not to mention upending fantasy tropes. That the Messiah figure ends up being the final villain of the show is very much in keeping with these explicit intentions. Things such as Dany's visions in the House of the Undying (in which she's told she'll be betrayed for love) and the legend of Azoi Ahai and Nissa Nissa also appear to exist for the purpose of foreshadowing Dany and Jon's final interaction, and though these elements weren't present in the show, a few clues were thrown in here and there.

I recall the first set of cast posters had Dany's tagline as "I do not have a gentle heart," besides which she's walking around with three weapons of mass destruction that even she can't fully control, using them to dish out gruesome punishments to her enemies. Her Messiah complex and desire to be loved was obvious, as was her "my way or the high way" mentality.

Likewise, we know that Dany's re-arrival to Westeros was going to be very different from her reception across Essos, given she was entering a realm in which her family name was anathema, its people had their own deep histories and alliances with each other, and none of them had any real reason to welcome her rearrival (though the show slips up here, as the fact that the apocalypse is literally on their doorstep made her chilly reception at Winterfell made the Northerners look like ungrateful xenophobic shits).

And yet the series simply did not have the necessary nuance and self-examination to make Dany's tragic arc particularly compelling or believable.

Instead, for the first seven seasons of this show, Dany was given the "winner's edit". Her story in the first season is of a teenage girl who is sold, raped, victimized, and yet finds a way to claw her way back up into power. How can you not respect and sympathize with that? Moreover, all the strikes against her (as mentioned above) were addressed in prior episodes: Jorah tells her the people of Westeros don't really care who rules over them as long as the harvest comes in, and she understand this. She's informed of her father's cruelty by Barriston Selmy and she accepts it, vowing to do better. She's horrified that one of her dragons kills a child and takes steps to contain them until she's got them under control.

Despite recent claims that she doesn't listen and can't be controlled, she was repeatedly shown as listening and taking advice from others (in fact, her decision to listen to Tyrion's advice is what totally stymies her Westeros takeover - in hindsight, her first instinct to go straight to King's Landing and take out Cersei was obviously the correct one).

Unlike other contenders for the throne, she's surrounded by decent men and women who truly and honestly believe in her. And these people: Jorah and Missandei and Grey Worm and Barriston and Tyrion - weren't fools. They watched Daenerys, they judged her, and they believed her to be the best candidate for the Iron Throne - and by doing so, invited us to believe that as well.

(Honestly, the fate of her entourage is what stings the most about all this: up until the finish line she never gave her followers any reason to doubt her. I remember being truly moved by the scene in which Daenerys makes Tyrion her Hand, and his reaction to finally being accepted and honoured by someone worthy - it's lost all its poignancy now).

This "winner's edit" never presented Daenerys as anything other than the protagonist in a story of empowerment, and a symbol of hope for those around her. If they had wanted to do otherwise, then they should have taken steps to make us feel uneasy at the actions taken and decisions made by Daenerys in Essos. Because it's not like D&D weren't capable of this!

Although the Robb/Talisia subplot had its detractors (largely due to the fact Talisia acted like a fearless activist aid-worker in an environment where it had been established a rapist was lurking behind every tree) I thought it was a smart move to dramatize their love affair rather than have it happen off-screen (as in the books) not just to bring forth the love-versus-duty theme (which was part of Ned's arc, and the Rhaegar/Lyanna angle) but to have other characters point out firmly and consistently that Robb was Fucking Up Big Time.

His mother, his followers, his advisers - their objections made it clear in the audiences' mind that Robb was making a mistake. So by the time his entourage reached the Frey household, even people who were totally unspoiled as to the events of the Red Wedding would have rightfully felt a sense of pure dread - because the writing had pin-pointed Robb's fatal flaw and capitalized on it.

And they pulled it off in a single season! They had SEVEN to build a similar sense of dread with Dany, but it simply didn't happen. And in the obvious moments when D&D COULD have started foreshadowing her mental state, they instead doubled-down on how good and pure she was. That cringe-worthy White Saviour scene in which she body-surfs on a crowd of brown people was the perfect opportunity to say that Dany thinks of herself as a messiah and saviour, that she's now expecting a similar welcome from Westeros despite prior warnings, and that this treatment isn't good for her mental state.

And heck, they didn't even have to WRITE it. Just take the easy route and EXPLAIN it in the behind-the-scenes talking-head interviews that followed each episode. But they didn't.

The scene of her sailing for Westeros, with Tyrion at her side and the dragons hovering overhead should have filled us with unease, not left us fist-pumping at the fact our great queen was heading home to depose the evil Cersei and use dragons to fight the White Walkers. Because that's how it was presented!

D&D hid the essential characterization and undercurrents needed to pull this arc off in order to protect the twist, and it's clear from interviews that even Emilia Clarke didn't see this coming. If SHE was gobsmacked by Dany's sudden descent into tyrannical madness after playing the character as something completely different for nine years, then how on earth was a casual viewer meant to fathom it?

It strikes me that all this makes Emilia the exact inverse of Alan Rickman from Harry Potter. It's well documented that J.K. Rowling told Rickman the secret at the core of Snape's character (that he'd been in love with Lily and was working as a triple-agent) well before the end of the series, which allowed him to fine-tune his performance accordingly.

Just as Snape was a secret hero of that series, it turns out Daenerys was the secret villain of this one, but the show-runners never gave her forewarning for that. She never had a chance to temper her performance for the last seven seasons in order to better prepare the audience, which could have been as simple as an evil smile of maniacal gleam in Dany's eye when she started lighting things up.

And so we're left with an audience (and actress!) that felt utterly blindsided by Dany's decision to torch King's Landing, all for the sake of a shocking GOTCHA twist that came outta nowhere. If they wanted to deserve this twist then they needed to make Dany's earlier "atrocities" FEEL like atrocities, instead of cool "the victim fights back on behalf of other victims" scenes.

That there are now perfectly reasonable essays out there which argue Dany's genocide was the right call in the minds of so many audience members is a clear indication that the writing has profoundly fucked up; which isn't even going into the fact that despite Dany's tendency to burn what she can't control, nothing has ever justified or signalled the fact that she would a) do this to innocent people, or b) do so in an irrational frame of mind.

***

And with that, let's look at the misogyny baked into all this. Are women just as capable as men of committing terrible acts of cruelty and violence? Could her arc have been a gender-neutral treatise on the corruptive influence of power? If George R.R. Martin ever finishes what he started, will it all make more sense in the books?

Of course. But from a storytelling perspective I don't think anyone can claim that the optics of this aren't horrendous: a woman goes evil and insane trying to despose another evil and insane woman, while rational men (who have spent the last three episodes gas-lighting and plotting behind her back) look on in horror, leading to her murder at their hands, and replacing her with a mostly-male council which includes Bronn.

Bronn. Are you fucking kidding me?

Daenerys is woman who is entitled, ambitious and ruthless, three traits which (in hindsight) pretty much damned her from the start. Just one of these qualities would be hardly tolerated in a female character, but all three?

And yet Dany had every reason to be entitled. Before Jon's parentage was revealed, that she was next in line to the Iron Throne was a simple fact, as laid out by the rules of the world she lived in. Unlike Jon, she actually wanted the job of ruling, had a clear understanding of what she wanted to do with her acquired power, and worked towards that goal with determination and clear-sightedness.

Granted, the narrative had laid down the ongoing theme of corruptive power, but in a wider sense is anyone else tired of "ambitious" being an automatic signpost for evil? If a person wants power, they're evil. In Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn has to become a reluctant leader, even though his book counterpart knew his kingship was a responsibility he had to take on for the good of all.  

The most tiresome thing about Hiccup and Aquaman's arcs in their respective stories is their reluctance to step up and do the job required of them, especially when there was a far more capable woman standing right next to them, able and willing to do the tasks they pussy-footed around. And Hogwarts had an entire house of school children who were deemed irredeemably evil due to the fact their motto was literally "ambition."

We've equated the desire to gain power as something so intrinsically evil that we've forgotten that power in the right hands can HELP people (as Dany was initally trying to do) and have instead started revering those who sit around on their asses (Jon Snow, the hero, was basically an extra this season).

And as for Dany's pre-episode seven ruthlessness, how is it any different from Jon hanging dissenters (including a child), Tyrion strangling his girlfriend and shooting his father, Sansa feeding Ramsay to his dogs, or Arya feeding a man a pie of his own children before slaughtering his entire house?

All their victims had it coming to one extent or another, and for six solid seasons Dany's wrath was directed towards rapists, slavers and tyrants. When it wasn't (the Lannisters and the Tarlys) she calmly presented her case for doing what she did and went through with it dispassionately - which certainly wasn't nice, but not a red flag either. After all, she was acting according to the rules of her world, just as Robb had the men who killed the Lannister hostages executed when they disobeyed him.

I mean, fuck - how many rapes did we have to sit through because they were "realistic", only to now realize that Dany playing by the same rules of "kill or be killed" was actually meant to be a BAD thing?

That the writers pin-pointed the first sign of her "madness" as her cold reaction to her brother's death is truly the most harrowing thing I've ever heard come out their mouths. She wasn't upset enough at the death of a brother who seconds before his execution was holding a sword to Dany's stomach, threatening to cut out her unborn child? The death that Dany didn't even commit with her own hands?

Of course, Sansa smiled to herself when she killed HER abuser, but she later told the Hound she was grateful to him to making her the woman she is today, so presumably that's where Dany went wrong: she wasn't grateful enough to the man who molested, terrorized and sold her.

As for the destruction of King's Landing, it was apparently a spontaneous decision triggered by the sound of bells and the sight of the Red Keep (symbolizing everything Dany's family had lost). Personally I think it would have made far more sense if Dany had decided to honour Missandei's final request (her last word was a pretty clear indication that she wanted to be avenged) but of course there was no way the audience would have understood such wanton destruction being done in the name of a woman of colour. Heck, remember how bamboozled people were when they realized Rue in The Hunger Games was black, and therefore unworthy of the grief and rioting that followed?

So, getting dumped by a boy and hereditary madness it is. Bitches be crazy, right?

And yet for all of these horrible double-standards, it feels utterly stupid and redundant to play the misogyny card NOW. To sit through eight seasons of this show and only JUST start crying that the whole thing was sexist is amazingly obtuse.

You weren't clued in by all the dead naked sex workers? The fact that nearly every female character was either raped or threatened with rape? That the likes of Arya, Brienne and Yara were given lines that scorned their own gender despite no such dialogue existing in the source material? That Shae astutely pointed out that no woman is going to want sex after she's nearly been raped before Gilly has sex with Sam under these exact circumstances? How about D&D going on record with gems such as "the Sand Snakes will become fan favourites" or congratulating themselves on Dany's nearly all-female war council an episode before most of them were killed off?

Every now and then there was a nugget of insight: Cersei's on-point assertion that "they hurt little girls everywhere," Sansa realizing that Littlefinger operated by pitting women against one another, and the fact that even these writers knew it had to be one of Craster's wives who finally killed Karl Tanner (remember him? I had to look the name up).

But for the most part it was a cesspit of violence and hatred towards women, and I was under the impression that everyone was already well aware of this; that people were divided into three groups: viewers who didn't care, viewers who were willing to stomach it for the story, and viewers who left.

Obviously not, and just as you cannot look at the elements of Dany's heel turn (getting dumped, rage and grief, wielding too much power, mental collapse) and not see it as horrifically, horribly gendered, you also can't say it's not on-brand for this show.

And so what gets me, what really makes me so angry that there's no other choice but to laugh hysterically over it, is that this show, this STORY, right from the beginning, which consistently insisted that it was deconstructing fantasy tropes, that this was in fact the whole point of the project, that it would subvert all our expectations and then some...

...chooses to end with the tiredest, most worn-out, predictable, godawful trope of all time: sadman deadwoman.

Every. Single. Damn. Time.

And did you know that there are subgenres within this trope? There's Woman Gets Fridged So Man Can Feel Sad and/or Enraged About It (Gwen Stacey in Spiderman, Shado and Laurel Lance in Arrow, Frigga in Thor, Claudine from Versailles, the Punisher's whole family, Satine Kryze in The Clone Wars, any number of women in a Christopher Nolan film, a James Bond film, or Supernatural) Women Getting Murdered by Men in a Jealous Rage (Marian from Robin Hood, Veil from Into the Badlands, Padme in Star Wars, Shae in Game of Thrones), Women Dying As Sacrifices for the Sake of Men (Elise Wasserman in The Tunnel, Gamora and Black Widow in the MCU - yeah, the Russo Brothers decided to pull this one TWICE) and Man Murdering Over-Powered Crazy Woman for Her Own Good, (from the menfolk killing Lucy Westernra in Dracula, to Merlin killing Morgana in Merlin, Ethan shooting Vanessa in Penny Dreadful, and Wolverine killing Jean Grey in the shittiest X-Men movie).

And INCREDIBLY, we're getting ANOTHER take on that last one later that month, with Sophie Turner (aka Sansa) in the role of Jean Grey. You just can't make this shit up. I wonder which male character gets to euthanize her this time?

Another sad man stabs crazy woman associated with 
a fire-related mythical creature. What are the odds?

I've said it before, and I've said it again (to the five or so people who actually read this blog) that if you don't give a shit about the misogynistic qualities of this trope, then fine! I can't make you and it's not my business. But if you DO appreciate decent writing, if you DO want to subvert expectations like Game of Thrones insisted it did, then don't go to the sadman deadwoman well. It's been done in every conceivable variation. Stay far, far away from it.

(And no, this doesn't mean that female characters can never die. But if you're not smart enough to see the difference between the deaths of Jyn Erso, Thelma and Louise, and even Olenna and Margaery Tyrell compared to the above lists, then I can't help you).

Miscellaneous Observations:

Daenerys naturally isn't the only controversial aspect of this season, and I gotta say I was disappointed with the conclusion of White Walker plot. It's incredible to think back and realize that they were introduced as a major threat in the show's very first scene, and were ultimately dealt with in a single episode by a kid in a wheelchair and a flying ninja.

All those seasons of "winter is coming" and increasingly frantic warnings about how squabbles over the Iron Throne were a pointless distraction, that overarching theme of how all these disparate people had to come together in order to fight an existential threat for the sake of all humanity - it was all a bit of a damp squib in the end.

It's hard to believe that this is the ending Martin has in store, and I have to admit I'm totally disappointed that the battle for Winterfell wasn't lost and the zombies didn't march on King's Landing. (As this incredulous article points out, Cersei was right to let everyone else fight the Battle for the Dawn).

And the Walkers themselves largely remain a mystery. What was up with the spiral patterns? Or the motivations of the Night King? What was the point of Craster, whose story indicated that the Walkers could be communicated and reasoned with? The etymology of Winterfell suggested a rich history between the Walkers and the Starks (it was presumably where "winter" "fell" the first time this conflict happened) and I'm sure both Martin and D&D mentioned in the past that there was more going on with the Walkers than what initially appeared.

And in light of how easily they were defeated, is anyone a little baffled as to how the prequel series will pan out? Apparently it's about the first Long Night, and yet how can they possibly establish any sort of stakes around this premise? Any prequel inevitably leads to pay-off that has already been established (like the creation of Darth Vader or the destruction of Krypton). To have an audience already know that said pay-off is anti-climatic is incredibly strange.

I know most people were a little cold on this particular aspect of the story (no pun intended) but the supernatural stuff and the mysterious conflict between fire and ice that created the basis of this entire saga, whether it was dragons versus wights, Red Priests versus Ice Zombies, or Starks versus Targaryans, was my favourite element of the story in its entirety.

And then there are all those fascinating little tidbits that were strewn out across the series and never delivered on. Those prophecies are the obvious contender, but what about the voice Varys heard in the fire? The vision Sandor saw in the flames? What about the mention that Dorne had a secret that helped them repel dragons? What was up with the oft-repeated "the dragon has three heads" motif? And what was really going on between Rhaegar and Lyanna? Were they deliberately trying to conceive Azor Ahai or were they just a couple of idiots who destroyed the realm for the sake of their hormones? The biggest mystery of the whole damn saga, and we still have no insight into what was happening.

What the heck was the sequence of events surrounding Shae's testimony against Tyrion? Did Bronn put her on the ship? Did she get off of her own volition? Was she coerced into testifying and sleeping with Tywin? (I know it happened four seasons ago, but dammit, they did her dirty).

Wasn't it weird that Jon's ability to ride a dragon wasn't used as evidence of his Targaryen blood? Or that the incest thing was never really mentioned after it happened? Or that he waited his whole life to learn who his mother was, and then didn't really give it much thought once he found out?

Why on earth would you have a girl who can wear other people's faces, a woman who is fire-proof, and a boy that can warg into any creature on earth, and not have any of them actually utilize these abilities in any way? That Bran never took control of one of the dragons just blows my mind. 

What or who resurrected Beric/Jon and gave Melisandre/Thoros their powers? Is there a real god-like entity at work in this world, and what exactly was he/she trying to achieve? And what about the origin of Hodor's name? Introducing a time-paradox that revolved around such an otherwise trivial detail suggested it was setup for much bigger and more elaborate time-travelling shenanigans... but apparently not? (I didn't ascribe to the theory that Bran was the Night King, but I did kind of like the idea that he was Bran the Builder and that his whispering was what made Aerys go mad).

And didn't Varys have a guy in a box at one stage? That was weird, right?

***

Check out the predictions I made concerning all the characters' fates back in 2017. I was right on some (okay, Beric and Melisandre weren't hard to fathom, but I was spot-on about Varys), hideously wrong on others (Lyanna and Missandei, forgive me) and clearly knew a massive subversion was coming for Dany and Jon.

Looking back, I guess the best-case scenario in my head was that the true meaning of "the prince that was promised" would involve Jon giving himself up to the White Walkers as a sacrifice, (he was always equated with promises, as with Lyanna's "promise me, Ned" line, and this certainly had precedence given the deal Craster brokered with them) and for Daenerys to destroy the Iron Throne before establishing a rudimentary oligarchy - though I always had my eye on that Nissa Nissa story, which suggested she would also be sacrificed in the battle against the Long Night (I suspect that if we ever get Martin's books, Dany's death will be more closely connected to the White Walker threat).

That said, it came as a shock to look back at my words and see the words "Mad Targaryan" in Dany's entry. I have no memory of writing that, and certainly didn't want it to happen.

And ultimately, any grand tragedy they tried to play out with Jon/Dany failed because they simply didn't have the script or chemistry to back it up. Possibly because Kit is a newlywed, that they're off-screen friends, or they were squicked out by the fact they knew they were playing aunt/nephew, Emilia and Kit couldn't turn this into the burning, intense, passionate relationship it should have been to pull off its inherent (albeit rather stupid) tragedy.

For as someone who has been rooting for Sansa since Day One, I was disappointed by her season eight arc, which didn't amount to much in the end. Look, I don't have a problem with her worrying about food supplies, what I don't understand is why she announced this in front of everyone, which only a) undermined Jon's decision, b) alienated a valuable ally and their best weapons on the brink of the literal apocalypse, and c) turned a highly tense situation into an even more strained and stressful one.

And she was like this for the whole season. I've waited all these years to see fully-formed Sansa smoothing ruffled feathers, working the crowds, playing individuals and negotiating like a pro, having learned well from all the greatest manipulators that Westeros had to offer, and instead got this: a shit-stirrer whose only significant contribution to the plot is spilling a secret her brother begged her not to reveal, and claiming Northern independence because she simply asks for it. 

There's a nasty subtext here about the "right" way women should claim power: those who actively aspire for it are bad, those that sit back and patiently wait for the patriarchy to give it to them are good. And after eight seasons worth of pointing out that being a leader is a horrible responsibility, is Sansa as Queen in the North even a good thing? Especially now that her siblings and Brienne have left her? Perhaps this was one last kick in the face courtesy of the writers: that she got what she wanted, but with the same price the likes of Dany and Cersei had to pay: complete isolation. 

On that note, the worst thing about all this wasn't the show, but the fandom - and once again, I played myself. I've always been fascinated by fandom's reaction to the stories they consume: what they like, what they don't, which characters become favourites, how shipping preferences warp people's perception of what really happens, how crack theories are nurtured so tenderly that meltdowns occur when they don't pan out - I love witnessing all this stuff play out in real-time, and I'll admit that in the months leading up to this season I was looking forward to the inevitable fallout of the Jonsa/Jonerys shipping war.

More fool me, as the whole thing became so ugly and nasty that it was downright disturbing to watch. It genuinely upset me to see Sansa/Jonsa stans gleefully cheering on the downward spiral of Danerys (and by extension, Missandei - their reaction to her calm, dignified defense of Dany in the crypts was especially ludicrous) simply because they believed that the zero sum game of this show's "feminism" meant the destruction of one woman would lead to the canonization of their ship - when of course, it didn't. 

Now they're stuck in the awkward position of defending the grotesquery of Dany's arc in the face of fandom-wide backlash, even though their only motivation in wanting it in the first place was to clear the way for a ship that had no basis in reality.

In short, the show pitted Dany and Sansa against one another, and the fandom wasted no time in joining in, resulting in a depressing reminder of just how easy it is for men to manipulate women into hating each other (both in fiction and real life). Whether you were a hater or a stan of Sansa, this character brought out the worst in fandom, and though I'm glad she's at least safe and fulfilled, that's a sad fandom legacy for her to carry.

***

So that was Game of Thrones. As you might have realized reading this, I was more invested than I knew: I wouldn't have written this if I hadn't been. It's hard not to get caught up in such a cultural phenomenon, and there were some magnificent set-pieces along the way.

At the same time, I didn't devote nine years of my life to this, and never let myself go too deep down the rabbit hole. As much as I enjoyed bits and pieces: the conversations, the fan-theories, the world-building, the sheer depth and breadth of that world, I'll get over my disappointment a lot quicker than those who made a much longer and deeper emotional investment.

And because I'll never watch those last three episodes, they don't feel quite "real" to me, allowing me to remember the characters on a high-note: of putting aside their differences to defeat the Night King.

I'll take what I learned from the show and apply it to my own work: that subverting expectations isn't shorthand for good writing, that female characters will almost always deserve better, and that the longer a conclusion is drawn out, the greater the need to stick the landing.

The backlash is no doubt bigger than The Last Jedi at this stage, but I learned my lesson on that score as well: I'm staying well away from it.

P.S. Glad Davos made it to the finish line.