In my opinion Baelor Breakspear was a cautionary tale about “reaching across the table” and working with or trying to appease hateful bigots because it’s NEVER going to work. What you have to understand is that these people are united in nothing more than just being hateful. Being hateful to ANYTHING that doesn’t match their criteria of who deserves respect and humanity. How can you work with a group of people who can’t even rationalize their own bigotry and hatefulness. They have no logic, which is why they come up with these pathetic deflections like “oh Baelor has dark hair which means he shouldn’t be our King because he doesn’t look like his father.” Do you see what this sounds like? Absolute nonsense. You can’t work with these people because in their mind they refuse to budge and instead they see you slowly compromise your own morals, ideals, integrity, and humanity to reach across the table and try to understand their insanity. That’s why when these bigots see everyone trying to coddle them and their feelings they only grow more stubborn and grounded in their own pure hatefulness. You see how the minute Baelor is out of the picture all these idiots start fighting with themselves … it’s because they have nothing in common but pure hatefulness. There is absolutely nothing Baelor could do to please these people, and he only slowly lost himself by trying to work with these bigots. In the end, they betrayed him anyways because they found their perfect idol in the form of Daemon. Baelor is not on the same playing field as his white peers, and I feel so bad for him because he deserves to live in a better world. Baelor in my opinion was very naive and just believed in the good in people just like his father. Baelor like a lot of POC learn from a young age that not everyone looks out for your best interests and operates with rationality and fairness. And that not everyone believes you deserve respect and to be treated as a human being. You can literally be perfect and completely appease these bigots, but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter because you’ll still be treated as less than.
That’s why when I think Aegon VI is the answer to Baelor I mean I think he will use his white passing privilege to brow beat these bigots and root them out. Aegon VI in theory literally meets all of the criteria these bigots saw in their Daemon. It’s not even about the person it’s about what they symbolize. Aegon VI to them represents the Targaryen ideal, which is what he so far was associated with. That’s why when Aegon VI in actuality shows favor the Dorne and gets work done to make Westeros a better place these bigots will be blindsided because they’re so attached to Aegon’s alignment with whiteness and that idea that they cannot fathom why someone with such privilege would forsake them and refuse to compromise with these bigots. In my opinion, Aegon VI is what Maekar could’ve been, and the answer to Baelor Breakspear and Daeron II.
The first dragon slain in Dunk & Egg isn’t on a battlefield. It’s in a puppet show. And the puppeteer is Dornish. GRRM knew exactly what he was doing.
Tanselle Too Tall being Dornish is very interesting. She’s a puppeteer someone who tells stories through performance and during her show she has a dragon slain onstage, right in front of a Targaryen prince. That’s already a loaded visual the dragon, supposedly invincible, reduced to a prop, defeated by ordinary people in a story.
Now layer in the history. In canon, Dorne is the only region that successfully killed a dragon in war. Rhaenys and Meraxes don’t just lose a battle they shatter the myth of Targaryen invulnerability. The Dornish don’t defeat dragons through brute force or dragon-on-dragon combat, but through patience, terrain, resistance, and refusal to submit.
So when a Dornish woman stages a dragon’s death as entertainment, it’s not just foreshadowing it’s cultural memory. Dorne remembers that dragons can die. That they have died. That they are not gods.
This is where GRRM’s critique comes in.
Dragons in ASOIAF are not just cool fantasy nukes they are instruments of mass violence, tools of imperial domination and symbols of inherited power that demands obedience. And GRRM constantly undercuts their supposed divinity.
A dragon can be killed by a scorpion bolt, brought down by peasants in a pit and mocked in a puppet show. The “magic” of dragons only works as long as people believe they are untouchable.
So Tanselle’s performance does three things at once It demystifies dragons turning terror into theater, It centers Dornish resistance the one culture that never bowed and It foreshadows the collapse of Targaryen exceptionalism. And the fact that this happens in front of a Targaryen is so funny. It’s a quiet act of defiance disguised as art. GRRM loves this move using storytellers, singers, and performers to tell truths rulers don’t want spoken out loud.
boy with magical abilities to bridge past, present, and future w/ ecological undertones assumes the throne and marries his look alike sister who possesses similar abilities (though to a lesser extent) to the last male heir of a great House that his father helped overthrow
Bran, Sansa, Jon or Leto II, Ghanima, Farad'n?????
grrm is pulling a Children of Dune he told me so in a dream
If you've gone through Asoiaf, Fire and Blood and even house of the dragon and still think that it's gonna end with a Targaryen restoration than I don't know what to tell you. Maybe you should have listened while your teacher explained why the curtain was blue
If the Wall is a metaphor for repressed conflict, grief and trauma (the same way the dragons are a metaphor for wrath, the pursuit of vengeance and the cycle of abuse), then the only way the Wall can come down in a thematically consistent way is for someone to deliberately destroy it who has previously had a vested interest in upholding it. I.e., a human, a Northerner, a Stark.
The show's version of it being destroyed by a wight dragon at the behest of the Others implies that it's simply an evitability that passively happens to people, which may be true sometimes, but makes for a fairly meaningless story. Simply witnessing the Wall between the status quo and a historical truth break on its own, or being brought down by someone else's wrath, someone with no connection to its history, even? Lacks catharsis and removes choice.
Bran destroying the work of Bran the Builder in order to fascilitate a confrontation with the truth and past culpability, in a way that seems apocalyptic but can actually lead to a true solution and genuine peace? Cathartic, thematically consistent, good metaphor for healing and reconciliation. Justifies the existence of Bran as a main character, even.
i mean what’s fun about dorne is also what’s frustrating, we have TWO instances of them doing peacefully what the rest of the kingdoms has huge civil wars over-
women inheriting over men -> it’s important that mors & nymeria’s oldest was a DAUGHTER who inherited over nymeria’s sons with other men!!
having too many heirs -> the red princes all split power between them!!
but arianne doesn’t think about dornish women like the one who inherited over the men she thinks about rhaenyra. she doesn’t think about her own dornish culture she thinks about daeron’s pov on her culture. dorne accomplishes something the rest of the realm is constantly struggling with TWICE but it’s mostly in passing. oh they’re so woke. but let’s not talk about how that came about!!
Hopefully Part 1 served as a good introduction on the topic and characteristics of the Byronic Hero, as well as how Jon Snow in particular is likely an iteration of this figure. But now we come to the real meat of this meta series — a closer look at Byron's dramatic poem Manfred (1816–1817), and more importantly, its titular character in comparison to Jon Snow. I was originally going to do an analysis and comparison of two key episodes in Manfred and A Storm of Swords, Jon VI, but have since decided to give that its own post... that's right kids, there will be a part 3!
(Detail from Lord Byron, Thomas Phillips, 1813)
So... why Manfred? Why not Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, or The Corsair, or Don Juan, or any other work by Lord Byron? Well, I'll tell you why, my sweet summer children. It's because of THIS:
Manfred/Manfryds and Byrons in ASOIAF, by order of first appearance and publication:
Ser Manfred Swann (ASOS, Jaime VIII)
Ser Manfred Dondarrion (The Hedge Knight)
Manfred Lothston (The Sworn Sword)
Manfryd o' the Black Hood (AFFC, Brienne I)
Manfryd Yew (AFFC, Jaime V)
Ser Byron the Beautiful (AFFC, Alayne II, TWOW, Alayne I)
Ser Byron Swann (ADWD, Tyrion III)
Manfryd Merlyn of Kite (ADWD, Victarion I)
Manfryd Mooton, Lord of Maidenpool (The Princess and the Queen, TWOIAF)
Manfred Hightower, Lord of the Hightower (TWOIAF)
Manfred Hightower, Lord of the Hightower (Fire and Blood)
Like... what the hell, George?
I find this very interesting, very interesting indeed! *cough* intentional, very intentional *cough* And I have to thank @agentrouka-blog for reminding me of the existence of these Manfreds/Manfryds, and thus pointing me in this particular direction. This evidence is, for me, my smoking gun, it's why I feel justified in exploring this specific work. In my opinion, it really strongly confirms that GRRM is aware of Manfred, he is aware of its author — as a literary name, it is pretty much exclusively connected to Byron, it's like Hamlet to Shakespeare, or Heathcliff to Emily Brontë. In fact, GRRM likes it enough to use this name several times in fact, its frequency of use aided by a slight variation on its spelling.
So, as we can see, there are a striking number of Manfred/Manfryds (9!!) featured in the ASOIAF universe, whereas Byron (2) is used a bit more sparingly — perhaps because the latter, if more liberally used, would become far more recognisable as an overt literary reference? Interestingly, though, we can see a direct link between the two names as both bear the surname Swann: Ser Manfred Swann and Ser Byron Swann (note the exact spelling of Manfred here, as opposed to Manfryd). Ser Byron was alive during the Dance of Dragons and died trying to kill the dragon Syrax, whereas Ser Manfred was alive during Aegon V's reign and had a young Ser Barristan as his squire. So, in terms of ancestry, Byron came before Manfred, which makes sense since Lord Byron created the character of Manfred; he is his authorial/literary progenitor, if you will.
But why Swann, though? Is there any significance to that surname? Well, I did a little bit of digging and turned up something very interesting, at least in my opinion. In Percy Bysshe Shelley's poem Lines written among the Euganean Hills (1818), in its sixth stanza, the poet addresses the city of Venice... the “tempest-cleaving Swan” in the eighth line is clearly meant to be his friend and contemporary, Lord Byron, that city’s most famous expatriate:
That a tempest-cleaving Swan
Of the songs of Albion,
Driven from his ancestral streams
By the might of evil dreams,
Found a nest in thee;
(st. 6, l. 8-12)
Ah ha! But let's not forget that the Swanns are also a house from the stormlands — stormlander Swanns vs. "tempest-cleaving Swan." It seems a nice little homage, doesn't it? You could also argue that the battling swans of House Swann's sigil are a possible reference to Byron's fondness for boxing (he apparently received "pugilistic tuition" at a club in Bond Street, London). But to make the references to Byron too overt would ruin the subtly, so it isn't necessary, in my opinion, for the Swanns to be completely steeped in Byronisms.
All in all, it would be very neat of GRRM if the reasoning behind Byron and Manfred Swann is because of this reference to Lord Byron by Shelley. How these names and the characters that bear them might further reference Byron and Manfred is a possible discussion for another day! It's all just very interesting, very noteworthy, and highlights how careful GRRM is at choosing the names of his characters, even very minor, seemingly insignificant ones.
(Illustration of Villa Diodati from Finden's Illustrations of the Life and Works of Lord Byron, Edward Finden, 1833)
Now onto the actual poem, and the ways in which Jon Snow could being referencing/paralleling Manfred. First things first, a bit of biographical context. Take my hand, and let's travel back in time, way back when, to 1816, the year in which Lord Byron left England forever, his reputation in tatters due to the collapse of his marriage and the rumours of an affair with his half-sister, Augusta Leigh (plus he was hugely in debt). No doubt, most of us are familiar with the story, but in 1816 Byron travelled to Switzerland, to a villa on Lake Geneva, where he met the Shelleys and suggested that they all pass the time by writing ghost stories.
The most famous story produced by them was, of course, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1818) — which may have served as the partial inspiration behind Qyburn and Robert Strong! Byron himself did begin a story but soon gave it up (yesss, we love an unproductive king); it was completed, however, by his personal physician, John William Polidori, and eventually published, under Byron's name, as The Vampyre (1819). But Byron didn't completely abandon the ghost story project, as later that summer, after a visit by the Gothic novelist M. G. Lewis, he wrote his "supernatural" tragedy, Manfred (1817).*
*I've seen it dated as 1816-17, but the crucial thing to rememeber, in terms of Byron's own biography, is that unlike The Bride of Abydos, he wrote it after his departure from England... this theme of exile will come up later.
Manfred is what is called a "closet drama", so is structured much like a play, with acts and scenes, though it wouldn't have actually been intended to be performed on stage. Indeed, Lord Byron first described Manfred to his publisher as "a kind of poem in dialogue... but of a very wild—metaphysical—and inexplicable kind": "Almost all the persons—but two or three—are Spirits... the hero [is] a kind of magician who is tormented by a species of remorse—the cause of which is left half unexplained—he wanders about invoking these spirits—which appear to him—& are of no use—he at last goes to the very abode of the Evil principle in propria persona [i.e. in person]—to evocate a ghost—which appears—& gives him an ambiguous & disagreeable answer..."*
*As in Part 1, more academic references will be listed in a bibliography at the end of this post.
To sum up the narrative for you, Manfred is a nobleman living in the Bernese Alps, "tormented by a species of remorse", which is never fully explained, but is clearly connected to the death of his beloved Astarte. Through his mastery of poetic language and spell-casting, he is able to summon seven "spirits", from whom he seeks the gift of forgetfulness, but this plea cannot be granted — he cannot escape from his past. He is also prevented from escaping his mysterious guilt by taking his own life, but in the end, Manfred does die, thus defying religious temptations of redemption from sin. He therefore stands outside of societal expectations, a Romantic rebel who succeeds in challenging all of the authoritative powers he faces, ultimately choosing death over submission to the powerful spirits.
According to Lara Assaad, the character of Manfred is the "Byronic hero par excellence", as he shares its typical characteristics found in Byron's other work (as discussed in Part 1), "yet pushed to the extreme." As noted above, there is a defiance to Manfred's character, which is arguable also found in Jon. Certainly though, in all of Byron's works, the Byronic Hero appears as "a negative Romantic protagonist" to a certain extent, a being who is "filled with guilt, despair, and cosmic and social alienation," observes James B. Twitchell. I'll come back to those characteristics presently.
As noted by Assaad, "Byron scholars seem to agree on this definition of the Byronic Hero, however they focus mainly, if not exclusively, on the dynamics of guilt and remorse." Indeed, it is only in more recent years that the incest motif, as well as the influence of Byron's own biography, have been more widely discussed. But perhaps the most compelling aspect of the Byronic Hero is his complex psychology. Although trauma theory only really started to flourish during the 1990s, thus providing deeper insight into the symptoms that follow a traumatic experience, it nevertheless seems, at least to Assaad, that "Byron was familiar with it well before it was first discussed by professionals and diagnosed." As we know, GRRM began writing his series, A Song of Ice and Fire, during the 1990s, and character trauma and its effects feature heavily in his work, most notably in the case of Theon Greyjoy, but also in the memory editing of Sansa Stark in terms of the infamous "Unkiss".*
*The editing, or supressing, of memories is not exclusive to Sansa, however. E.g @agentrouka-blog has theorised a possible memory edit with regards to Tyrion and his first wife Tysha.
But if we return back to that original quote, in which GRRM makes the comparison between Jon and the Byronic Hero, his following statement is also very interesting:
The character I’m probably most like in real life is Samwell Tarly. Good old Sam. And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Theon [Greyjoy] is the one I’d fear becoming. Theon wants to be Jon Snow, but he can’t do it. He keeps making the wrong decisions. He keeps giving into his own selfish, worst impulses. [source]
As noted by @princess-in-a-tower, there is a close correspondence between Jon and Theon, with each acting as the other's foil in many respects. In fact, Theon does sort of tick off a few of the Byronic qualities I discussed last time, most notably standing apart from society, that "society" being the Starks in Winterfell, due to him essentially being a hostage. Later on, we see him develop a sense of deep misery as well due to his horrific treatment at the hands of Ramsey Snow. Like Theon, his narrative foil, Jon is also a character deeply informed by trauma (being raised a bastard), but the way they ultimately process and express that specific displacement trauma differs profoundly — Theon expresses it outwardly through his sacking of Winterfell, whereas Jon turns his trauma notably inwards.*
*Obviously, I'm not a medical professional — I'm more looking at this from a literary angle, but the articles I've read for this post do include reference to real medical definitions etc.
Previously, I observed how being "deeply jaded" and having "misery in his heart" were key characteristics of the Byronic Hero, as well as Jon Snow — this trauma theory is a continuation of that. Indeed, to bring it back to Manfred, Assaad goes as far as stating that the poem's titular hero "suffers from what is now widely recognised as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)." I am purposely holding off on discussing what the origin of that trauma is, in relation to Manfred specifically, because, well... it needs a bit of forewarning before I get into it fully. Instead, let's look at the emotions it exacerabates or gives rise to, as detailed by Twitchell, and how they might be evident in Jon and his feelings regarding his bastard status.
(Jonny Lee Miller as Byron in the two part BBC series Byron, 2003)
Guilt
Does Jon suffer guilt due to him being a bastard and secretly wanting to "steal" his siblings' birthright? I'd say a strong yes:
When Jon had been Bran's age, he had dreamed of doing great deeds, as boys always did. The details of his feats changed with every dreaming, but quite often he imagined saving his father's life. Afterward Lord Eddard would declare that Jon had proved himself a true Stark, and place Ice in his hand. Even then he had known it was only a child's folly; no bastard could ever hope to wield a father's sword. Even the memory shamed him. What kind of man stole his own brother's birthright? I have no right to this, he thought, no more than to Ice. – AGOT, Jon VIII
He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. – ASOS, Jon XII
But I think Jon's sense of guilt also extends to the high expectations he sets for himself, his "moral superiority" in the face of his bastard status, as discussed in Part 1. He feels guilt pulling him in two different directions, in regards to Ygritte: guilt for loving her, for breaking his vows, and potentially risking a bastard, but also guilt for leaving her, for abandoning her, and potentially leaving her unprotected:
His guilt came back afterward, but weaker than before. If this is so wrong, he wondered, why did the gods make it feel so good? – ASOS, Jon III
Ygritte was much in his thoughts as well. He remembered the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body... and the look on her face as she slit the old man's throat. You were wrong to love her, a voice whispered. You were wrong to leave her, a different voice insisted. He wondered if his father had been torn the same way, when he'd left Jon's mother to return to Lady Catelyn. He was pledged to Lady Stark, and I am pledged to the Night's Watch. – ASOS, Jon VI
"I broke my vows with her. I never meant to, but..." It was wrong. Wrong to love her, wrong to leave her..."I wasn't strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I..." His head felt as if it were packed with wet wool. – ASOS, Jon VI
This guilt surrounding leaving the women/girls he cares about unprotected also extends to Arya. Yet it was his need to prove himself as something more than just a bastard, by joining the Watch, which initially prevents him from acting, and which also makes him feel guilt for being a hyprocrite:
Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt. His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard's heart. – ADWD, Jon VI
I think there is a lack of reconciliation between Jon and his bastard status, between what being a bastard implies in their society: lustful, deceitful, treacherous, more "worldly" etc. Deep down, subconsciously, Jon really rebels against it. You can see that rebellion more clearly in his memories as a younger child, less inhibited:
Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne."
That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell."
I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he'd taken. – ASOS, Jon XII
But Jon knows this truth about himself, he knows that he has "always wanted it", and that causes him so much guilt because he can't allow himself to be selfish in that regard, because to do so would confirm for him his worst fears... that he truly is a bastard in nature as well as birth — treacherous, covetous, dishonourable.
Despair
As he grows up, learning to curb his emotional outbursts from AGOT, Jon appears more and more stoic upon the surface. But beneath that, buried in his subconscious in the form of dreams, you have this undyling feeling of despair, this trauma connected to his bastard status, his partially unknown heritage:
Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind. – AGOT, Jon III
These recurring dreams, sometimes explicitly involving his unknown mother, sometimes not, represent a clear gap, a gaping blank in Jon's personal history and his perception of his identity:
"Sometimes I dream about it," he said. "I'm walking down this long empty hall. My voice echoes all around, but no one answers, so I walk faster, opening doors, shouting names. I don't even know who I'm looking for. Most nights it's my father, but sometimes it's Robb instead, or my little sister Arya, or my uncle." [...]
"Do you ever find anyone in your dream?" Sam asked.
Jon shook his head. "No one. The castle is always empty." He had never told anyone of the dream, and he did not understand why he was telling Sam now, yet somehow it felt good to talk of it. "Even the ravens are gone from the rookery, and the stables are full of bones. That always scares me. I start to run then, throwing open doors, climbing the tower three steps at a time, screaming for someone, for anyone. And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It's black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it's not them I'm afraid of. I scream that I'm not a Stark, that this isn't my place, but it's no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream." He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. "That's when I always wake." His skin cold and clammy, shivering in the darkness of his cell. Ghost would leap up beside him, his warmth as comforting as daybreak. He would go back to sleep with his face pressed into the direwolf's shaggy white fur. – AGOT, Jon IV
"That always scares me", he says quite tellingly. From this key passage, in particular, we can see that Jon feels a deep rooted despair at essentially being unclaimed, unwanted... being without a solid (Stark) identity around which to draw strength and mould himself. He's afraid of being a lone wolf, because as we all know, "the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives," (AGOT, Arya II).
This dream points him in the direction of the crypts — "somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to" — which actually does have the answers he seeks because that is where Lyanna Stark is buried. Yet Jon is "afraid of what might be waiting for [him]", and wants to "scream" with dispair because of the darkness. So, this need for a confirmed identity is a double edged sword, which will no doubt be further complicated when his true parentage is revealed.
Elsewhere, Jon's dreams continue to have this despairing quality to them, often involving Winterfell, the Starks, and especially Ned, which is very interesting on a psychological level:
The grey walls of Winterfell might still haunt his dreams, but Castle Black was his life now, and his brothers were Sam and Grenn and Halder and Pyp and the other cast-outs who wore the black of the Night's Watch. – AGOT, Jon IV
Last night he had dreamt the Winterfell dream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he'd heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch-dark, his heart hammering. Even when Ghost leapt up on the bed to nuzzle at his face, he could not shake his deep sense of terror. He dared not go back to sleep. Instead he had climbed the Wall and walked, restless, until he saw the light of the dawn off to the east. It was only a dream. I am a brother of the Night's Watch now, not a frightened boy. – AGOT, Jon VII
But it is never "only a dream", is it?
And when at last he did sleep, he dreamt, and that was even worse. In the dream, the corpse he fought had blue eyes, black hands, and his father's face, but he dared not tell Mormont that. – AGOT, Jon VIII
Even Jon's conscious daydreams in AGOT revolve around his dispairing search for a solid identity:
When Jon had been Bran's age, he had dreamed of doing great deeds, as boys always did. The details of his feats changed with every dreaming, but quite often he imagined saving his father's life. Afterward Lord Eddard would declare that Jon had proved himself a true Stark, and place Ice in his hand. Even then he had known it was only a child's folly; no bastard could ever hope to wield a father's sword. Even the memory shamed him. What kind of man stole his own brother's birthright? I have no right to this, he thought, no more than to Ice. – AGOT, Jon VIII
A lot of these early dreams occur in A Game of Thrones, probably in response to his removal from Winterfell... his self exile. But later on in the series Jon continues to have dreams that tie him to the Starks and to Winterfell, ominous and sometimes despairing too. There's honestly too many instances to list, but if you want to understand the root of Jon's existential despair... it's in his dreams.
Cosmic Alienation
Cosmic alienation, now that's an interesting one in regards to Jon, since he definitely hasn't reached this state... yet. Life and his belief in the divine (the old gods) still hold meaning for him, but then he gets murdered by his black brothers. In the show, the writers hint at some cosmic alienation through Jon stating that he saw "nothing" whilst dead, but then they take it no further and generally do a piss poor job of post-res Jon. This characteristic of Manfred coming to the fore in Jon depends on what happens in The Winds of Winter, but I don't think it is at all that far fetched to assume that Jon will return to his body with a darker, altered perception of things.
Social Alienation
In Part 1, I discussed how Jon, like Byron's heroes, could be read as a "a rebel who stands apart from society and societal expectations." On a more psychological level, we can see how this Otherness, stemming from his bastard status, deeply affects Jon and his perception of himself and the world:
Benjen Stark gave Jon a long look. "Don't you usually eat at table with your brothers?"
"Most times," Jon answered in a flat voice. "But tonight Lady Stark thought it might give insult to the royal family to seat a bastard among them." – AGOT, Jon I
In his very first chapter, we see him quite literally alienated from the rest of his siblings, made to sit apart from them, an apparent necessity he seems fairly resigned to. Also in Part 1, I gave examples of instances in which Jon is mockingly called "Lord Snow," as well as a "rebel", "turncloak", "half-wildling", all of which serve to alienate him from the rest of the brothers of the Night's Watch.
Stannis gave a curt nod. "Your father was a man of honor. He was no friend to me, but I saw his worth. Your brother was a rebel and a traitor who meant to steal half my kingdom, but no man can question his courage. What of you?" – ASOS, Jon XI
The above interaction may seem on the surface to be about one thing — whether or not Jon will be of help to Stannis, offer him loyalty etc. — but tagged onto the end we have quite a poignant question: "what of you?" What are you, essentially. Who are you? The truth of his parentage may, in part, solve these questions... but it may also serve to alienate Jon from his perception of himself further. Ultimately, who exactly he is — what he believes in, who and what he fights for, etc. — will be solely his decision to make going forward.
So, the Byronic Hero, certainly in Manfred's case, but also in later iterations, is arguably traumatised by his own past. But regardless as to whether his trauma is related to a mysterious past, a secret sin, an unnamed crime, or incest, aka "secret knowledge", what is clear in Assaad's interpretation, is that the Byronic Hero is "living with the traumatic consequences of his own past and so suffers from PTSD." But why is Manfred traumatised, what is the specific cause of this trauma, or how might it reveal something deeper about Jon's own trauma? Now, here we come to the unavoidable... I'm going to start talking about Byronic incest and the pre-canon crush/kiss theory, and how it potentially parallels certain aspects of Manfred.
I should preface this by stating that I don't think Jon is suppressing trauma because he committed intentional incest with Sansa, but I do think (or at least somewhat theorise that) Byronic incest does come into play regarding his intense feelings of guilt and existential despair.
But still, stop reading now if are opposed to discussions of the pre-canon crush/kiss theory and the literary incest motif as a whole!
(Detail from The Funeral of Shelley, Louis Édouard Fournier, 1889)
Hey there to the depraved! If you aren't already familiar with the theory, here are some previous discussions/metas on the subject:
Full Blown Meta:
A Hidden and Forbidden Love by @princess-in-a-tower
Ask Answers (Long):
Jonsa as a more positive mirror to Jaime and Cersei? by @princess-in-a-tower, with additional comment by @jonsameta
Discussing the theory by @jonsameta
Evidence for pre-canon Jonsa? by @agentrouka-blog
Kissing in the godswood? by @agentrouka-blog
Why don't we read about Jon's reaction to Sansa and Tyrion? by @agentrouka-blog
More on Jon's supposed non-reaction by @agentrouka-blog, with additional comment made by @sherlokiness
A Jonsa "Unkiss"? by @fedonciadale
A hidden memory? by @fedonciadale
Sansa's misremembering by @fedonciadale
Descriptive parallels between A Song for Lya and Jonsa by @butterflies-dragons
Ask Answers (Short) & Briefer Mentions:
Jealous Jon by @princess-in-a-tower
Your new boyfriend looks like a girl by @butterflies-dragons
Like in Part 1, I've tried to cite as much as I could find, but as always, if anyone feels like I've missed someone important or that they should be included in the above list, please just drop me a line!
Now, it's a controversial theory, and not everyone's cup of tea — I think that's worth acknowledging! I myself am not wholly married to it, I'd be fine if it wasn't the case, but that being said, I can't in good faith ignore it when considering Lord Byron and the Byronic Hero. The incest is, unfortunately, very hard to ignore, both in his work and in his personal life. It's pretty hard to ignore in Manfred, for that matter, which is why I've held off talking about it... until now!
All aboard the Manfred incest train *choo choo* !!
First stop, Act II, scene one. Oh, wait, an annoucement from your conductor... apologies everyone, I purposely neglected to mention quite a key detail. Remember "Astarte! [Manfred's] beloved!", (II, iv, 136)? Yeah... it's heavily implied that Astarte is in fact Manfred's half-sister. *shoots finger guns* Classic Byron! *facepalms*
Oh, and that's not all! Let's consider the context surrounding the writing of this work for a moment, shall we? Unlike The Bride of Abydos (1813),* Manfred was written notably after the fallout of his incestuous affair with his half-sister, Augusta Leigh, composed whilst in a self-imposed exile. *spits out drink* Woah, woah there cowboy... what in tarnation?! EXILE?!
*As referenced in Part 1, @rose-of-red-lake has written an excellent meta on the influence of Lord Byron's work (and personal life) on Jonsa, paying special attention to the half-siblings turned cousins in The Bride of Abydos.
Although, as noted by rose-of-red-lake, The Bride of Abydos bears strong parallels to the potential romance of Jon and Sansa, as well as Byron’s own angst regarding his relationship with Augusta Leigh, the context surrounding Manfred seems... dare I say it, even more autobiographical. Because like Byron himself, Manfred wanders around the Bernese Alps, solitary and guilt ridden, in a state of exile heavily evocative of Byron's own — as I mentioned earlier, the beginnings of Manfred occured whilst Byron was staying at a villa on Lake Geneva, in Switzerland... the Bernese Alps are located in western Switzerland. In light of this, I think it's very understandable that some critics consider Manfred to be autobiographical, or even confessional. The unnamed but forbidden nature of Manfred's relationship to Astarte is believed to represent Byron's relationship with his half-sister Augusta. But what has that got to do with Jon?
Look, I don't know how else to put this:
Byron self-exiles in 1816, first to Switzerland, to Lake Geneva, where it is unseasonably cold and stormy — his departure from England is due to the collaspe of his marriage to Annabella Milbanke, unquestionably as a result of the rumours surrounding his incestuous affair with his half-sister.
Displaced nobleman Manfred wanders the Bernese Alps, in a kind of moral exile, where "the wind / Was faint and gusty, and the mountain snows / Began to glitter with the climbing moon" (III, iii, 46-48), traversing "on snows, where never human foot / Of common mortal trod" (II, iii, 4-5), surrounded by a "glassy ocean of the mountain ice" (II, iii, 7). He feels extreme, but unexplained guilt surrounding the death of his "beloved" Astarte, who is heavily implied to also be his half-sister.
In A Game of Thrones, Jon Snow chooses to join the Night's Watch, with the reminder that "once you have taken the black, there is no turning back" (AGOT, Jon VI). By taking the black, Jon arguably exiles himself from the rest of the Starks, from Winterfell, to a place that "looked like nothing more than a handful of toy blocks scattered on the snow, beneath the vast wall of ice" (AGOT, Jon III). But we aren't given any indication that he does this due to incestuous feelings regarding a "radiant" half-sister, akin to Byron/Manfred, are we? And it's not like we have several Manfreds/Manfryds AND Byrons namedropped within the text, is it? Oh wait... we do. *grabs GRRM in a chokehold*
What the hell, George?!
(Lord Byron on His Deathbed, Joseph Denis Odevaere, c. 1826)
But lets get back on track here and take a closer look at that section of Manfred I mentioned at the beginning — Act II, scene one, aka the part where all the incest and supressed trauma really JUMPS out.
So, early in Act II, in the chamois hunter's abode (a chamois is a type of goat?), according Assaad's analysis, Manfred is "hyper-aroused by a cup of wine." The wine is offered in an attempt to calm Manfred; however, to the chamois hunter's great dismay, it instead agitates him and makes him utter words which are "strange" (II, i, 35). Rather than wine, Manfred sees "blood on the brim" (II, i, 25). His sudden agitation and erratic behaviour confound the chamois hunter, who observes that Manfred is losing his mind: "thy senses wander from thee" (II, i, 27). Assaad's analysis of this scene, which she believes "is the most revelatory in the entire play" discloses "a bitter truth: Manfred's traumatic past informs his present life."
We might compare this with Jon, in particular, how his dreams reveal certain bitter truths to do with his past, now subconsciously informing his present. I've already looked a bit at his crypt dream from AGOT, Jon IV, but we see a sort of recurrence of this dream again in ASOS, Jon VIII. The imagery of being in a crypt, somewhere underground, buried, in the dark, a place of ghosts and spirits, is extremely evocative. Indeed, to go back to Byron's own description of Manfred, the setting of a crypt is extremely suggestive of certain bitter truths "left half unexplained", of secrets buried... and we know that's true because the secret of Jon's parentage is hidden down there, in the form of Lyanna Stark.
He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. "Father?" he called. "Bran? Rickon?" No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. "Uncle?" he called. "Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me." Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place. His crutch slipped and he fell to his knees. The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. "Ygritte?" he whispered. "Forgive me. Please." But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his golden eyes shining sadly through the dark... – ASOS, Jon VIII
I don't think it's outlandish to state that, unquestionably, Jon's bastard identity is a source of ongoing pain for him. I talked about the theme of despair in Jon's characterisation and it is very evident in the above, and it stems from this "bitter truth" of not being a trueborn Stark, of not being "welcome", or having a true place. The emotions/mindset this trauma, concerning his birth and identity, evokes in Jon is arguably what brings him, on first glance, so closely in line with the Byronic Hero:
Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed / The crypts were growing darker = A mysterious past / secret sin(s)
You are no Stark / I am no Stark = Deeply jaded
There is no place for you here / I am not welcome there / This is not my place = standing apart from society and societal expectations / social alienation
He dreamt he was back in Winterfell / He walked deeper into the darkness = Moody / misery in his heart
He fell to his knees / Forgive me = Guilt
He walked deeper into the darkness / Please, Father, help me / He fell to his knees = Despair
These aren't all the Byronic characteristics I've addressed in relation to Jon, but it is a substantial percentage of them, all encapsulated, in one way or another, within this singular dream passage. As far as what is fairly explicit in the text, being a bastard is Jon's "bitter truth", it is the "traumatic past inform[ing] his present life." But what is Manfred's "bitter truth", what past trauma is informing his present? And can it reveal a bit more about another layer to Jon's trauma? Because there is a key distinction — Manfred's trauma, his PTSD, stems from a specific event, notably triggered by the (imagined) "blood on the brim" of his wine, whereas for Jon, we have no singular event, we have no momentus experience, we just have this "truth."
As mentioned previously, Assaad has recognised the character of Manfred as displaying symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). In Assaad's article, she remarks that "an experience is denoted as traumatic if it completely overwhelms the individual, rendering him or her helpless," and this is quite evident in the interaction between Manfred and the chamois hunter. Sharon Stanley, an educator and clinical psychotherapist, writes that "the word trauma has been used to describe a variety of aversive, overwhelming experiences with long-term, destructive effects on individuals and communities."
So, if trauma is related to an experience, or experiences, is it still accurate to say that Jon experiences trauma, connected to being a bastard? Because there is seemingly no singular or defining root experience, or event that it stems from, it just is… it is a compellation of several moments, revealed to the reader through Jon’s memories and/or dreams. What is being "left half unexplained” here?
Assaad makes reference to the American Psychiatric Association's definition of PTSD, in which it observes that for an individual to be diagnosed with PTSD, they have to suffer from one or more intrustion symptoms, one or more avoidance symptoms, two or more negative alterations, and two or more hyperarousal symptoms. The dreams Jon has certainly suggest something, but it seems like a stretch to say that, like Manfred, he is suffering from PTSD, right? We and Jon are very much aware that he is "no Stark", at least not in the sense that he is Ned's trueborn son, this isn’t something Jon is actively suppressing. By comparison, it is incontrovertible that Manfred committed something in the past, which he deeply wishes to forget and disassociate from:
Man. I say ’tis blood—my blood! the pure warm stream
Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours
When we were in our youth, and had one heart,
And loved each other as we should not love,
And this was shed: but still it rises up,
Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from heaven,
Where thou art not—and I shall never be.
C. Hun. Man of strange words, and some half—maddening sin
(II, i, 28-35)
However, we cannot be sure what this traumatic point of origin is, though we know that it is related to something he has done to his beloved Astarte, which subsequently led to her death. Many critics have suggested that his sin is that of incest, and as I noted earlier, that Manfred as a whole is more than just a bit autobiographical and/or confessional in nature. Manfred's incestuous sin therefore re-enacts Byron's incest with his half-sister Augusta. But regardless of the true cause, Manfred is traumatised by his past and cannot overcome it. Is there something in Jon’s past, that may have subconsciously, or consciously, influenced his departure to the Wall — his self exile — which he cannot overcome, and which is closely tied to the issue of and pain he feels due to being a bastard, not just the illegitimacy, but also the negative characteristics it assigns? Is there an event, or experience, we can pinpoint as the origin of Jon’s trauma and potential PTSD?
To circle back to Jonsa, there is some, not unfounded, debate amongst us concerning the validity of the pre-canon crush/kiss theory. I've always found it an interesting theory, but until now, I haven't really given it too much thought. In light of the Byron connection, however, as well as the textual analysis I have for Part 3, I think this scenario, as detailed by agentrouka-blog, seems more and more likely. And I don't say that lightly, I really don't. It is a somewhat uncomfortable speculation to make, even if the interaction was more innocent rather than explicit (this is the side I firmly fall down on), however, it’s ambiguity does potentially parallel Byron’s Manfred and Astarte. This post would be even longer if I included my side-by-side text comparisons, so you may have to trust me for the moment that there are some very striking similarities between Act II, scene I of Manfred, and Jon's milk of the poppy induced dream in ASOS, Jon VI, as well as the actual buildup to that vision.
But, that sounds frankly terrible doesn't it? And it doesn't bode well for his future relationship with Sansa, does it? And what does it mean if Jon is suffering from PTSD due to an incestuous encounter with Sansa? What does that mean for Sansa, Sansa who is doggedly abused and mistreated by men within the present narrative? This is awful, why would GRRM root their romance in something traumatic? Oh I hear you, and these are questions I needed to ask myself whilst compiling this. But you see... now bear with me here... it isn't the actual encounter itself that was traumatic, for either Jon or Sansa, and that is reflected in both their POVs, because, though they think about each other sparingly (explicitly at least), it is never done so negatively. No, the potential PTSD Jon suffers from this experience isn't connected to Sansa, to whatever occured between them. Rather, I believe, it's connected to either the fear, or the reality, that Ned, his assumed father, saw and/or caught him (either Sansa had left at this point, or didn't fully grasp the issue), and this fear, this guilt, this sense of despair, is made evident in this passage:
When the dreams took him, he found himself back home once more, splashing in the hot pools beneath a huge white weirwood that had his father’s face. Ygritte was with him, laughing at him, shedding her skins till she was naked as her name day, trying to kiss him, but he couldn’t, not with his father watching. He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night’s Watch. I will not father a bastard, he told her. I will not. I will not. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she whispered, her skin dissolving in the hot water, the flesh beneath sloughing off her bones until only skull and skeleton remained, and the pool bubbled thick and red. – ASOS, Jon VI
That's the traumatic experience, I believe, not the kiss — yep, I strongly suspect there was a kiss. Moreover, Jon's recurring assertion, throughout the series, that he "will not father a bastard" is tied to this in some way, it’s tied to Ned, it’s tied to some sense of guilt and shame. It’s not tied to Sansa. But we'll look at this passage, what it means, what it parallels, and what directly precedes it, in comparison to Manfred, a lot more closely next time.
I'll leave you with a slight teaser though — the parallel that made me really sit up and take notice:
C. Hun. Well, sir, pardon me the question,
And be of better cheer. Come, taste my wine;
'Tis of an ancient vintage; many a day
'T has thaw’d my veins among our glaciers, now
Let it do thus for thine. Come, pledge me fairly.
Man. Away, away! there’s blood upon the brim!
Will it then never—never sink in the earth?
(II, i, 21-26)
Note this imagery!!!
Maester Aemon poured it full. "Drink this."
Jon had bitten his lip in his struggles. He could taste blood mingled with the thick, chalky potion. It was all he could do not to retch it back up. – ASOS, Jon VI
In both instances, a drink is offered, with "blood upon the brim", and "blood mingled". In Manfred's case, this is an explicit trigger for him, whereas for Jon? Well, it bit more hidden, a bit more buried, but this moment is, to my mind, the catalyst, because its imagery strongly evokes the colours of the weirwood tree — "blood" red and "chalky" white — you know, the "huge white weirwood" he later on envisions.
*spits out drink*
Maybe the magnitude of this parallel isn't completely evident as of yet, but it will be... or at least I hope it will be, so stay tuned for Part 3!
(Starting to run out of Byron pics so... I dunno, here's Rupert Everret, from The Scandalous Adventures of Lord Byron, 2009)
In Conclusion
To summarise, why is the Manfred connection so monumental to me? Why do I find the pre-canon kiss theory, specifically the scenario detailed by agentrouka-blog, now very hard to dismiss? Because:
The nine (!) Manfreds/Manfryds included within the text, as well as the two Byrons, one of which, the first mentioned in fact, first appears in Sansa's POV. But crucicially the direct link made by GRRM between Byron Swann and Manfred Swann.
The strength of the similarities that can be observed between Jon and the Byronic Hero, but also notably to Byron's Manfred, the "Byronic hero par excellence", according to Assaad. Especially the recurring emotions of guilt and despair, the latter exemplified perhaps most clearly in Jon's dreams.
The prominent theme of self-exile to escape something, something that perhaps cannot be openly stated, present in Manfred, Byron's own life, and Jon's narrative.
Those pesky half-sisters: Augusta, Astarte, and Sansa.
The PTSD symptoms clearly present in Manfred, but left "half unexplained", and seemingly not explained at all in Jon's POV — I'll dig more into this in Part 3.
The "blood upon the brim", and "blood mingled" — more on that in Part 3, I hope you guys like in depth imagery analysis!
Obviously, this is all still just speculation on my part, and it's speculation in connection to a theory that is understandably controversial. I'd be happy to dismiss it... if it weren't for the above. So, I suppose I'm in two minds about it. On the one hand, however you look at it, it's more trauma in an already traumatic series... which is *sighs* not what you want for the characters you care strongly about. But on the other hand, that literary connection to Manfred (and by extension to actual Lord Byron), the way it's lining up, plus that comparison GRRM himself made between Jon and the Byronic Hero... that's all very compelling and interesting to me as a reader, as a former English literature student. So, I don't want it to be true because... incest hell. But then, I also want it to be true because then it makes me feel smart for guessing correctly.
But anyway, we're going to be descending into incest hell in Part 3, so... we'll just have to grapple with that when we come to it. I hope, if you stuck with it till the incesty end, that you enjoyed this post!
Stay tuned ;)
Bibliography of Academic Sources:
American Psychiatric Association, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th edn (Arlington, VA: American Psychiatric Publishing, 2013); online edition at www.dsm5.org
Assaad, Lara, "'My slumbers—if I slumber—are not sleep': The Byronic Hero’s Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder", The Byron Journal 47, no. 2 (2019): 153–163.
Byron, George Gordon Noel, Byron’s Letters and Journals. Ed. Leslie A. Marchand. 12 vols. London: Murray, 1973–82.
Holland, Tom, "Undead Byron", in Byromania: Portraits of the Artist in Nineteenth- and Twentieth- Century Culture, ed. by Frances Wilson (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2000).
MacDonald, D. L. "Narcissism and Demonality in Byron’s 'Manfred'", Mosaic: An Interdisciplinary Critical Journal 25, no. 2 (1992): 25–38.
Stanley, Sharon, Relational and Body-Centered Practices for Healing Trauma: Lifting the Burdens of the Past (London: Routledge, 2016)
Twitchell, James B., The Living Dead: A Study of the Vampire in Romantic Literature (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1981).
I’m struggling to understand why everyone needs to classify every single one of Sansa’s actions as either kind or cruel. Like there many things in between and outside of those intentions. Sansa was not an asshole for calling Jon her half brother. It doesn’t mean it was kind either. It’s literally one of her most neutral moments, I don’t understand why THAT moment has everyone in a tizzy when there are plenty of other moments of Sansa’s that we’ve talked about that show that she has moments of meanness (not that it makes her a horrible person because *everyone* has these moments and a lot of these moments are being caused by emotional turmoil) and I’m not saying this to shit on the OP who brought it up, because I do think they’re also a Sansa fan. I’m just confused on why THAT moment. I’m really struggling to read it as anything other than just neutral. It wasn’t mean, it wasn’t kind.
No but actually, it's such a commonly misrepresented aspect of Sansa.
People fall for the POV trap on Arya's first chapter so hard, they literally don't clock into the facts on the page.
Arya openly shares her bastard brother Jon's mocking opinion of the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms in a sewing circle that includes the guy's sister.
Sansa gently explains the context of the insult ("He's jealous because he's a bastard"), which offends Arya into raising her voice ("he's our brother"), which Sansa again softly corrects ("Half-brother") before diverting the Septa's attention from Arya.
Because status matters. Jon is not a highborn son. He's a bastard half-brother.
Jon, we learn a page later, can't even spar with the prince, he can't go hunting with the prince we learn a chapter later, it's credibly presented that he can't sit with the family at the feast a chapter earlier (even if the true reason may be Ned's desire to keep him out of sight.)
Bastard half-brother. That stuff matters. So while Robb may fill the air with curses when Joffrey insults him, it's Very Different if it got out Jon was insulting the prince unprovoked.
It's a 100% correct and protective move on Sansa's part. Toward both Jon and Arya, who are being inappropriate.
Arya's extremely biased POV gives the false impression that Sansa's motive is classist disregard. People just buy it wholesale.
So when Jon says she only ever called him half-brother the false impression is perpetuated, when the motivation is, as you say at worst a neutral desire to be precise. Because that stuff matters in their society and because Sansa has a right to not deny the fact that Jon has a special status when it's a huge source of unspoken conflict in their family.
It's a pretty character-defining aspect of Sansa, yes, but not in the way the general fandom usually pretends. Sansa is very aware of their society's realities when it comes to status, she plays by the rules because it's a way to prevent predictable strife, and she is actually a fairly circumspect and protective sibling in this regard. Except it's never acknowledged because Arya can't see it through her resentment. And readers share her bias and miss all nuance and condemn Sansa.
Putting on my tinfoil hat/wishful thinking cap here but...
Neither Dorne nor the North have swords as part of the Iron Throne. They aren't part of the literal Iron Throne. So maybe, neither will be part of the figurative throne in the end. As in, the North obviously will go independent, but so will Dorne. And Arianne won't just gain back her birthright by the end of ADOS, but be the first ruling Princess of an independent Dorne since Maron Martell knelt to Daeron II.
I’ve been looking at parallels between Arianne and Sansa while I’m working on a meta and one of my favorites is this. “Arianne was loved in Dorne, Quentyn little known. No company of sellswords could change that.” ‘"I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.” That both understand the importance of love and are both naturally lovable, charming people.
Definitely.
One of the things I find cool about Arianne is that she can be used to gain insight into so many different characters. Sansa, for sure, but also Arya. Cersei. Brienne. Margaery. She fills such an interesting part of this world. (Disclaimer: I have been writing this over the course of many days and not getting anywhere, and I’ve finally started actually getting somewhere after having eaten some tortilla chips with very spicy salsa and drunk some sweet red wine, which is a weird and kind of delicious combination, and while I think I’m making sense, maybe I’m not, at all.)
Arianne is, I think, one of the biggest reminders we have that this whole ~feminine, masculine thing that we’re constantly talking about is a false dichotomy. What does it even mean to be one of those things? Gender norms are changeable. Being uncomfortable with societal expectations of women do not a masculine character make. That whole issue is extremely complicated and entangled with a lot of fandom issues when it comes to Sansa and Arya - I’m not going to get into that conversation, because I could talk about that for a long time all on its own, and I’d probably make many people mad at me - so I think it’s very important to acknowledge Arianne, because she doesn’t really belong in that division. She’s not feminine nor masculine nor even gender nonconforming. She’s just Arianne. And the reason she can just be Arianne is because the setting she’s in and cultural context she’s a part of allows her to be her without questioning it.
Preteen Arianne was more awkward than beautiful. As far as we know, her interests didn’t line up with either Sansa’s or Arya’s. She played Westerosi chicken in the pools and read what I can only assume are fictionalized histories about Princess Nymeria. She’s been allowed the freedom to decide who she is and what she’s interested in on her own, rather than being restricted and confined to a role without a choice in the matter. As a child, she played with both the highborn and the lowborn - the daughters of Lord Fowler and the daughter of a smith. Her closest friends were people not of her social class - Tyene, her bastard cousin; Garin, a random commoner; Sylva and Drey, who seem to be part of the landed gentry/untitled nobility. These are friendships she’s retained into adulthood. It’s her friendship with these seemingly unimportant and overlooked people that leads to her learning about Quentyn leaving Dorne. It’s this friendship that allows her to get Cedra on her side. That childhood, exposed as she was to so many different kinds of people - her bastard cousins with their wide range of skills and interests, children both highborn and lowborn, ladies and knights and people doing all kinds of important work to keep Sunspear running, her father and maester arguing science with a septon - allowed her to grow up into someone with sharp political instincts; an ability to respect, appreciate, and make use of people with a wide variety of skills; and a level of ease when it comes to interacting with a wide range of people that very few others in the series have. It led to her being very, very comfortable with who she is, no matter what she’s doing.
When Arianne chooses her clothing as an adult, it’s practical or to make a statement, not out of any real interest in fabrics or fashion - she wears a veil in the desert to keep the sand out of her eyes, she wears simple clothing to meet with Doran, and so on. She’s not a fighter, but she’s very physically capable - she knows the desert as well as Darkstar, can tell they’re almost at their destination because she sees a hawk, and can vault back into her saddle after a long day’s ride at a moment’s notice. She considers marriage something she’d “accepted”, rather than something she’d ever wanted in the same way Sansa did or something she doesn’t really have an opinion on yet, like Arya. Her only thought about children is a brief thought that if she and Darkstar wed, theirs would be beautiful. She’s equally comfortable interacting with princesses and serving girls. She is a woman. She has no interest in not being a woman. She’s comfortable with herself - so much so that how she performs gender is straight up not relevant, especially because the Dornish value traits and attributes in their leaders in a very gender neutral way. And so because of this - her disinterest in either conforming to gender norms or flouting them - she ends up in this fascinating place where all kinds of different girls and women, with a wide range of personalities, skills, and interests, would look up to or envy her. When I look at a lot of these different characters, it seems like Arianne is who they could grow up to be or could have grown up to be in a different universe. Because of this, Arianne makes the clear case of why rigid societal expectations are harmful and limit potential, class stratification is detrimental to both individuals and society as a whole, and that no interests should be considered either more feminist or more feminine than others.
The first relevant example is, of course, Sansa and Arya. Arianne bridges the gap between them - and, indeed, other female characters - in a way that highlights their similarities and differences. This is a simplification of it, but in broad terms, Sansa is better when it comes to interacting with others in the context of noble society and Arya is better at improvising outside of that context and connecting with strangers. Arianne, though? She’s not like Sansa or Arya, she’s like Sansa and Arya. She fits somewhere between them, with a unique set of skills and strengths. Like Sansa, she understands the importance of love for political purposes, is capable of charming people (which is actually interesting if looked at in the context of how Sansa once notes that Cersei charms people and hates her for it, but that’s another thing), and has learnt how best to interact with other members of the nobility in order to get the outcomes she’s looking for. Like Arya, she makes friends easily with all kinds of people and likes being around them while still feeling lonely and isolated. And that’s interesting, because I feel like in some ways, both Sansa and Arya are moving towards being a little more like Arianne - an active character that’s knows who she is and is comfortable with that, someone with enough power in her own right that she’s gained through making friends and building an information network to achieve her goals. At the beginning of the series, Sansa is essentially the book smart one while Arya is the street smart one. They both learn more of the other’s skills throughout their arcs - Sansa learns more about interacting with people, Arya learns languages and how to fit into any environment. I think there’s an argument to be made that their arcs are, in part, about bringing them closer together and making them more similar. Their physical paths diverged, and their arcs are to different goals, too, but in terms of their character growth? I think they’re becoming more similar, not more different, and in spirit, I think they’re becoming just a little closer to Arianne. Arianne is the kind of person Sansa could grow up to be, but she’s also someone that Arya could admire and look up to - and yes, become kind of similar to.
It’s not just Sansa and Arya. Arianne also helps illuminate a lot about characters like Cersei and Brienne by virtue of being her father’s heir. Cersei was Tywin’s eldest child. Her twin brother was born after her. But her whole life, Jaime was regarded as heir. Being a twin is a huge part of how Cersei sees the world - she and Jaime are the same age. As children, they looked pretty much identical. They were both raised in the same privileged environment. But Cersei was made to sit quietly and smile when she was angry and married off as a teenager to a man that would abuse her while Jaime was raised to rule and fight. By virtue of being male, he can access power that Cersei can’t, and in Cersei’s eyes, he’s just completely wasting it. As an adult, he’s uninterested in taking up responsibility, repeatedly saying he has no interest in becoming Hand, and we know that’s partially because he reacted to his one decision blowing up in his face by petulantly refusing to take responsibility for anything again in his life, but for Cersei, it’s enormously aggravating. It’s an extension of the whole thing where she simultaneously convinced him that he should join the Kingsguard, thereby giving up Casterly Rock, and is simmering with resentment that he actually did it, because how could he just give up the thing she wants so desperately as if it’s nothing? Cersei has so much she’s angry about, and rightfully so. This is true while she’s excellent at performing femininity. Cersei is absolutely gorgeous. She’s capable of being charming. Unlike Arya, she doesn’t particularly struggle with adhering to systemic expectations/ideals/standards (actually, this is worth a whole discussion in itself because of her switching places with Jaime thing, but I digress). Unlike Sansa, she doesn’t find enjoyment in the sort of feminine activities that make up the box she’s expected to be in. As capable as she is of exerting so-called feminine power, she hates it! She resents the system for making her do it. Which brings us back to Arianne, who is neutral on femininity. She doesn’t like it, doesn’t dislike it. For her, it’s not a box that she has to struggle to fit into. She doesn’t have to resent society, even as she’s angry and hurt by the belief that her father no longer loves her. Her feelings are complicated, but her anger is directed at specific individuals, not the world in general.
Arianne grew up in an extremely different setting than Cersei did. Unlike Cersei, she is the undisputed heir to Dorne, even though she has younger brothers. The people of Dorne have different ideals when it comes to the behaviour of women - they value boldness, strength, fire in men and women alike. Interestingly, Arianne is naturally pretty cautious, but she’s not meek - she’s tough, capable, willing to act, a public figure. As the quote you cite says, she “was loved in Dorne”. Despite all of this, circumstances led to her still chasing her father’s love and approval, believing he prefers her brother. Because of this, we can get a sense of who Cersei might have been in another universe. Arianne is to some extent Cersei with friends, a better relationship with her father and opportunity to repair it after it soured, and a childhood that allowed her to be who she is and become who she wanted to be. Cersei remembers when Tywin had a secret smile just for her, back when she was small and believed he could do anything and would find her a match even better than Rhaegar, but that pales next to the warmth and affection in Arianne and Doran’s relationship, where Arianne adored him so much that she went to kiss him goodnight into her teens and was completely crushed by the discovery that he wanted to disinherit her. In a much different world, I can imagine Cersei and Tywin’s relationship being a far bit more like Arianne and Doran’s, and Cersei herself being a lot more like Arianne. The idea of Cersei and Arianne as each other’s counterpart even extends to their respective relationships with the idea of their fathers’ seats. Like Dorne is, to Arianne, symbolic of her father’s love, Casterly Rock is to Cersei symbolic of the power she craves that’s been just out of her reach for so long. Which is why when she ultimately inherits it, she doesn’t care. By then, she’s the queen regent. What good is Casterly Rock to her when she has the whole realm? The seat being symbolic of something is very Arianne, but what that is is very different. (Also, I have feelings about Cersei and gender, but I’m going to not keep talking now because dear god, I talk too much.)
So Brienne! Brienne is the inverse of Cersei, sort of. We have to remember that she’s roughly the same age Cersei was when Cersei became queen. So we can draw parallels between Cersei then and Brienne now. Cersei grew up crushing on Rhaegar, wanting to be queen, resenting how she wasn’t allowed to do what Jaime did, and became quickly disillusioned upon marrying Robert, who, even before becoming an abusive rapist, made it crystal clear from the beginning that he didn’t care about her when he called her by a dead girl’s name. The Brienne that we meet is a romantic that loves songs, believes in true knights, and latches onto anyone that treats her with a basic modicum of human decency. Throughout the story, she, like Cersei, gets disillusioned with her romanticized notion of something. What makes her Cersei’s inverse is the different way she struggles with what her place in the world is.
Brienne wields a sword. She dresses more often than not in armour. She is somewhat alienated from her own womanhood. But she’s protective of children. She’s wistful at the thought that in another life, she’d be a mother. She loved it when Renly danced with her and made her feel beautiful. She doesn’t conform to the gender roles of the setting, but she isn’t masculine because of that, and the reason for it is that she’s been made to believe that those things are not for her. She’s both fond of the trappings of femininity and uncomfortable with them. She’s ridiculed both for wielding a sword and for wearing a dress. Where Cersei can adhere to societal ideals but hates doing it, Brienne can’t but wishes she could. She feels like she’s let her father down. She considers herself not good enough at being either a son or a daughter. Unlike Cersei, who is perfectly capable of fitting in with rigid gendered rules but doesn’t want to, Brienne’s problem is that she wants to be able to fit in, but can’t, not because of her behaviour or personality, but because of her appearance. She isn’t angry at society for being unfair, like Cersei is - no, she internalizes everything, blaming herself, rather than the unjust social structure. And it’s in these areas where she connects to Arianne, who also blames herself.
Arianne wonders what she did to make her father hate her. He doesn’t - Doran loves Arianne so, so much it kind of hurts to read. But she thinks she does and can’t help but blame herself, Quentyn - anything but have to blame the father she adores more than anyone in the world. It feels so similar to Brienne wishing her father got to keep one of her siblings instead and calling herself freakish and unworthy.On top of this, there’s the similarity in terms of how Arianne and Brienne are both heirs. Brienne has a complicated relationship with the idea of inheriting Tarth that is, again, connected to how she doesn’t fit in. Learning to fight, swearing herself to Renly then Catelyn, going on her quest for Sansa - her actions are about finding a purpose. I can imagine a Brienne that didn’t feel so awfully out of place and lonely not doing any of those things. If she looked more like Arianne - or Cersei, or Sansa, or Cat, or even Arya who might not be Sansa pretty but also doesn’t draw nearly the kind of cruel, negative attention Brienne gets - she may well have never felt the need to leave home. Like is the case with Cersei, I can imagine a Brienne of a different universe, perhaps one where she was still tall and large but in a Dacey Mormont way, being a fair bit more like Arianne - more confident, more comfortable showing her emotions and openly enjoying feminine activities, more secure about where she belongs and less guilty about existing. All that would be true regardless of whether or not she picked up a sword.
Arianne is like so many other female characters and is in a position that is the envy of so many women in Westeros. She’s bold and brave and will be an advisor to a king in her own right, just as Arya wanted, and very much looks up to the same one of her ancestors that Arya idolizes. She’s kind and charming and good, like Sansa would admire, and the kind of relationship she had - and could have again - with Daemon, who knows her and loves her for it, is the kind of thing Sansa longs for. Her status as heir to Dorne even as she has brothers is very reminiscent of what a Cersei from before she became queen wanted, and what she considers strength is very different from the values Cersei acquired from Tywin. That strength of character, combined with how she fits fairly naturally into the image of what’s expected of a woman in Westeros, is a large part of what Brienne admired about Catelyn. The patriarchy is harmful to everyone, no matter how they do or do not perform femininity. Arianne, raised as she was with more freedom, demonstrates some of the possibilities and potential that so many women are being denied.
In some ways, Arianne is an older version of Margaery whose perspective we actually get an insight into. Margaery is a strange character because she’s all things to all people. Everyone sees what they want to in her. Even though her family was responsible for the people of King’s Landing starving, she became a beloved queen considered a saviour for ending that starvation and contributing to charity. Cersei is convinced that she’s plotting something and is responsible for every terrible thing that happens (someone please remind me later to start talking about Cersei’s paranoia and frustrations with the whole Maggi the Frog thing, because I have many thoughts, but this is already getting way too long and off topic). Sansa thinks of her as the sweet, beautiful, gentle sister she wished she had and admires her bravery. Tommen thinks she’s the best thing since sliced bread. And we also know that she’s “restless”, taking her companions out on riding, boating, hawking trips, which makes me think about how even though Arya wasn’t pleased about going to court and being around Cersei in canon, had Margaery been queen at the time, it’s easy to imagine that she would have enjoyed it. Margaery is fun! Her court sounds awesome!
Realistically, a lot of that is probably an exaggeration with people not seeing her for who she really is - partly because she’s putting on an act and partly because people don’t care to look. She’s only sixteen. She has some role in her family’s plots, but she’s not the kind of schemer that Cersei believes her to be, nor is she the perfect queen the Tyrell PR machine has made her. But it’s all rooted in something real, and because of that, it’s hard not to see the similarities between her and Arianne - both in terms of how they seem a lot of fun to hang out with and like people both Sansa and Arya might like, but in terms of how different people see different very things when looking at them. Margaery comes across to me as pretty much a younger version of Arianne that was informed of her family’s plans, so she’s in an interesting position where she has more knowledge and therefore fewer insecurities, but less agency.
…what was I arguing, again? Shit. I don’t know. Sorry. Hope this makes some degree of sense? I don’t even know.
if you're right and lyanna was taken against her will, do you think grrm wrote jon/ygritte so that jon could sympathise with his mother? i found it interesting that ygritte romanticised the story of bael the bard and the stark maiden. the girl was taken from her bed and held inside the crypts for who know how long, all because bael felt insulted. i don't think it's a love story because it's a young girl being stolen by a man she didn't really know. (i just realised sansa is a stark maiden and the hound was hiding under her bed with the intention of raping her). i feel like it's foreshadowing for r/l where rhaegar is a lovestruck prince but lyanna was his captive and jon might be one of the few people who would sympathise with her instead of romanticising or condemning.
That is actually exactly what I think.
It's not just the story of Bael.
Jon is essentially going through with Ygritte
what I believe Lyanna did with Rhaegar, (and Sansa with the Tyrion marriage, and also Arya with the Brotherhood), and only perhaps his mother's response was more desperate because she was openly a captive.
Sansa is helpless and terrified and heartbroken, Arya angry at their lies and broken promises, Jon never sees it coming from the adult who had offered to help him and feels misplaced guilt.
Jon's discussions with Ygritte already show him occupying the perspective of the victim in a forced "stealing" marriage, even if he tries to frame his arguments around Ygritte. Her response is very ableist and self-congratulatory but Jon's thoughts about Arya (truly Jeyne) in her impending marriage with Ramsay show that he understands the desperate futility of fighting against a stronger opponent, or that (coerced) marriage vows don't have to mean consent.
The first thing Jon asks Tormund when he hears of Munda's stealing is about her perspective.
Everything about Jon's story seems primed to understand that there's two sides to what some may call a "love story", because others may vehemently disagree.
He grew up with the story of Lyanna being kidnapped and raped, so this is not a revolutionary discovery for him, even if GRRM is trying to skew the reader's perception toward a secret love story through characters like Dany or Cersei.
But being able to truly see it from Lyanna's perspective, as opposed to a more patriarchical and objectifying view, would really help Jon accept his own identity as Lyanna's son, not just Rhaegar's, and to understand her as a person beyond victimhood. With aspirations, fears, flaws, and strengths that are reflected and live on in him.
It is very easy to make the bridge betweek R/L and Y/J.
The abducted meets their abducter by chance. Lyanna met Rhaegar at the Tourney of Harrenhal, Jon met Yggritte at the Frostfangs.
The abudcted is only fourteen, while the abducter is older (in this case, Yggritte should've been much older than 19, but wtv).
The abducter tells a story that the abudcted listens to. Rhaegar some sad song at the tourney's feast that makes her tearful (what song this is may be relevant), while Yggritte tells the story of Bael and the Rose of Winterfell (which IS relevant).
The abudcted defends their allegiance using deception. Lyanna becomes the Knight of the Laughing Tree to defend a Stark bannerman (if the theory is true of course), Jon becomes a turncloak to defend the Watch / North.
Aerys Targaryen thought that the Knight of the Laughing Tree wanted to kill someone from his family but this wasn't true, while Jon tried to kill Yggritte and couldn't do it. I would say it's more likely than it happened the other way around, Aerys sent people after KotLT and it's theorised that Rhaegar found Lyanna and would have chopped her head, but failed because she was a girl.
The abducted is ambushed by the abducter and their party later, the latter taking the former to their "territory" as a prisoner.
The abducter and the abudcted have a questionable "romance". It's difficult to buy that Lyanna, who thought so badly of Bobby B because of his bastards, would involve herself with a married man. Jon is forced into having sex with Yggrite.
The possibility of chilcren (even bastards) exist. Rhagar and Lyanna did have a kid (Jon) bastard or not, while Jon and Yggritte didn't have a kid but the threat that it could happen if they kept at it was acknowledged.
The difference between Lyanna and Jon's fates are also notable. Lyanna couldn't escape her abducter and her family couldn't help (her father and brother died at King's Landing, Ned arrived "too late"), so she died. Jon escaped his abducter because his family helped him (the direwolves gave him a chance to escape).
The abducter faction is defeated by a Baratheon. The Targ Crown / Rhaegar by Bobby B, the Wildlings / Yggritte by Stannis.
The person that "abducts" dies the same way, a weapon to the heart. Rhaegar took a hammer, Yggritte took an arrow.
So if the parallel is complete, we have something like lovestruck Rhaegar took Lyanna and she went with it to get rid of Bobby B (a "mission", like Jon had, "infiltrate" the wildlings), then got stuck with him so she romanticised it to cope with it.
This leads to three problems.
Rhaegar is not portrayed as a rapist.
Rhaegar was a scumbag, no question about that. The story may be that Rhaegar took Lyanna and raped her, but was never portrayed as such outside of that story. In fact, Rhaegar was portrayed as a weakling. Of what we know of him, I really can't see him forcing himself on a fourteen year old.
Lyanna's motivations make no sense.
Okay then, something more tame, something more like J/Y, where he had to "go with it" and then romanticised the relationship, which leads to the second problem. The problem is Lyanna was the lady of a big house and also betrothed to another. I hate to use the "gender" card, but their society has no scenario where Lyanna "goes with it".
I'm more inclined to think that it's more akin with what Sansa went through. Rhaegar provided Lyanna with a chance to escape Bobby B and the North (if she was just like Arya, she was an adventurer) and she fancied herself in love with the arsehole since she was the answer to all her problems. When she realised her mistake, it was already too late.
Jon romanticises Yggrite and their relationship.
Jon and Yggritte was bad, we've all discussed how and why it was bad. However, Jon doesn't see it that way. He romanticised her for two whole books and the general fandom actually thinks it was a romance for the ages or something. The show was even worse about it (the show also romanticised R/L for that matter).
Now, don't take me wrong. I admit I'd like to see that. I just don't think it's likely. Why? Jon may take the side of the abused over the abuser every time (interestingly enough, including men like Sam and Satin), but he has never identified Yggritte as an abuser. In fact, Jon considered taking over Winterfell with Yggritte as his wife would be... easy (Val at least, is no rapist).
It also can't be something in between. This is because the stories where a man is abused by a woman is condemned is quite frankly rare. It's one of those disgusting things that STILL endures, men can't be raped or sexually corced (or if they are, it's taken as comic relief or romance, it's not really rape). And GRRM isn't a millenial where this stuff is STARTING to be acknowledged, he's an old man.
The show even had their own version with Jon and Daniella and they portrayed as "true love" (they also romanticsied R/L) and that she wasn't an abuser. I mean, try to sell that story to their stans, see how it works. GRRM never commented on either, R/L or or J/Y or J/D being romanticised. In fact, he was still soemwhat involved in the whitewashing that J/Y received in the show.
TL;DR. That's the only way I see this working. Jon comes back from the dead different, so he acknowldges Yggritte was a rapist that took sexual advantage of him and that he romanticised her and their relationship to cope (before and after). Otherwise there's no point.
So, like I started this, do I love this? Yes. Do I believe it? No. If GRRM makes Jon acknowledge that Yggrite was shit, then I'd tip my hat.
I agree that GRRM is unlikely to insert an unambiguious treatise about how what Ygritte was a harmful abuser, but I thought his handling of Lancel's arc, and especially Kevan's unadulterated condemnation of Cersei, was surprisingly unsubtle by GRRM standards. It's even more "tell v. show" than anything he has outright stated in the text about the Hound and Sansa.
Same with Jaime executing a man who tried to rape Pia. That man did the same thing he's always done, as all the others have always done, Arya called her a "slut who was working her way through every man in the castle". Retroactively, GRRM reveals it for what it was. Pia smiles "through her ruined teeth".
I also don't think the Lyanna parallel has to be exact in order to apply. The constellation "protector turns abuser" applies as soon as Rhaegar initially covered for her KOTLT identity and later uses that against her. The romanticizing may just as easily reflect the distortion of the relationship by Rhaegar and all his sympathizers.
(But I do 100% agree that the parallel to Sansa is just as significant, though to me it's not to Joffrey but to Baelish.)
So while he may not have Jon outright stating that Ygritte was an abuser, I do think GRRM intends for a retroactive shift in perception of it, related to both his mother (identification) and Sansa/Jonsa (contrast). Jonsa doesn't mean much if it's not revelatory in some way about what a relationship should be.
We know that Sansa compartmentalizes Petyr v. Littlefinger much as Jon does Ygritte's "just a girl" v. "killed a man for building a fire", and we know that Petyr is headed for a trial.
I think there is at least solid potential for Jon understanding that this was not "love", even if he doesn't outright phrase it as a condemnation of Ygritte as a rapist.
Identifying with Lyanna puts Rhaegar on trial, and elevates the perspective of Lyanna beyond that of an object. Same with Pia, same with Jeyne Poole. Same with Aeron Greyjoy and Theon. I think within the text there's general a shift to where victimization doesn't have to be erased (or overfocused on!) if it's revealed that there is a broader existence beyond it. AFFC is all about the moment after trauma. GRRM is on the subject.
The closer Jon gets to redefining his own understanding of love, the closer he can come to rejecting what he thought it was.
Also another note on this tweet. So far the two characters most associated with building are Bran Stark (through his namesake - Brandon the Builder) and Sansa Stark (for building a snow replica of Winterfell and during Dawn). Yet somehow this fandom was so blindsided by them becoming the two rulers in the end.
Those purple eyes grew huge then, and the royal mouth drooped open in shock. He lost control of his bowels, turned, and ran for the Iron Throne. Beneath the empty eyes of the skulls on the walls, Jaime hauled the last dragonking bodily off the steps, squealing like a pig and smelling like a privy. A single slash across his throat was all it took to end it. So easy, he remembered thinking. A king should die harder than this. Rossart at least had tried to make a fight of it, though if truth be told he fought like an alchemist. Queer that they never ask who killed Rossart … but of course, he was no one, lowborn, Hand for a fortnight, just another mad fancy of the Mad King. (ASOS, Jaime II)
Lickspittle. If truth be told, Jaime had come to rue heaving Brandon Stark out that window. Cersei had given him no end of grief afterward, when the boy refused to die. “He was seven, Jaime,” she’d berated him. “Even if he understood what he saw, we should have been able to frighten him into silence.” (ASOS, Jaime I)
and
“A man who would violate his own sister, murder his king, and fling an innocent child to his death deserves no other name.” (ASOS, I)
and
“Does the sight of my stump distress you so?” Jaime asked. “You ought to be pleased. I’ve lost the hand I killed the king with. The hand that flung the Stark boy from that tower. The hand I’d slide between my sister’s thighs to make her wet.” He thrust his stump at her face. “No wonder Renly died, with you guarding him.” (ASOS, Jaime V)
I was just rereading some Jaime chapters, and I thought we were joking about “Kingslayer” being a hint for King Bran, but that’s actually what Martin was doing?
I can’t find my post about it, but it’s the same way he writes R+L=J into Jon’s chapters on occasion,
I should make his head a wedding gift for Lady Alys and her Magnar, Jon thought, but dare not take the risk. The Night’s Watch took no part in the quarrels of the realm; some would say he had already given Stannis too much help. Behead this fool, and they will claim I am killing northmen to give their lands to wildlings. Release him, and he will do his best to rip apart all I’ve done with Lady Alys and the Magnar. Jon wondered what his father would do, how his uncle might deal with this. But Eddard Stark was dead, Benjen Stark lost in the frozen wilds beyond the Wall. You know nothing, Jon Snow. (ADWD, Jon X)
he writes the father/uncle thing (and apparently the Bran/king thing) kinda like an appositive:
Some Jon fans make no sense. He doesn't have Tully blood or any connections to the Arryns, why would the Riverlands and the Vale be in support of him?
You mean as Robb's heir, if the will is brought into play? I agree.
There's a reason Robb never told the Blackfish his idea of legitimizing him and made Edmure the sole Tully witness, because he's less likely to object. People forget that Robb was Hoster Tully's grandson to the Riverlanders. Brynden openly distrusts Jon based on Cat's misgivings. What is Jon to them but the bastard son of their late king's father, a vague insult to House Tully?
The Vale isn't even part of Robb's short-lived kingdom, but the desire to support him was probably more closely tied to his relationship to the Riverlands and to being the trueborn son of Ned Stark, who forged personal relationships in the Vale in his youth. Ned's bastard is a non-entity to them. They don't know this kid.
Given the choice between him and any trueborn Stark, they would at least strongly hesitate before supporting a precedent that subverts the traditional rules of inheritance in a world where stability is the difference between peace and chaos. They have enough simmering resentment in their own region, what with angry second sons like Eon "the Poisoner" Hunter or Lyn "my brother finally has an heir coming I need to chew glass" Corbray. Plus the whole Sweetrobin vs. Harry situation.
Robb named Jon as heir as he believed his trueborn siblings were either dead, married to the enemy or missing. People need to understand that Robb was the King in the North. North will always be his priority. The declaration of RL's allegiance to KITN was a temporary measure for both N & RL. RL wanted protection & N needed a base & they had the shared goal of defeating the Lannisters. I doubt either of the parties thought that they would continue to be a single kingdom post achieving their goals. Ruling RL from the North is not feasible long-term as they would need to be defended constantly.
I don't understand why people were shocked by the endgame of King Bran. Bran is the natural heir to Robb. He actually is the KITN post Robb but people believe him to be dead. Once he returns, he will automatically be the KITN. So if there is independent North then he will be the King. The North conquering all kingdoms is doubtful to me so him ruling the 7 kingdoms is far fetched. My personal belief is that most of the kingdoms will become independent by the end of the story.
During one of my many ASOIAF rereads, I noticed that the North is about to have a lot of ruling ladies — as soon as the current political sh*tstorm is over with and some sort of order has been established, that is.
HOUSE CASSEL: We don’t know if the Cassels have lands or a castle, but Beth Cassel is the only remaining Cassel still alive.
HOUSE CERWYN: After the death of her brother, Jonelle Cerwyn became the new Lady of Cerwyn.
HOUSE DUSTIN: Currently ruled by the badass Lady Barbrey Dustin.
HOUSE FLINT OF WIDOW’S WATCH: Currently ruled by Lady Lyessa Flint.
HOUSE HORNWOOD: The succession of Hornwood is a bit tricky ( thanks, Ramsay ), but there are two viable candidates. Larence Snow, the bastard son of the late Lord Halys Hornwood, and Berena Hornwood, his sister and the wife of Leobald Tallhart.
HOUSE KARSTARK: As Harrion’s whereabouts are unknown, Alys Karstark is currently either the lady or heir of Karhold.
HOUSE MANDERLY: As the heir of White Harbor Wylis Manderly has no sons, if he doesn’t father one, eventually the rule of White Harbor would pass to his eldest daughter Wynafryd Manderly.
HOUSE MORMONT: I mean… do I even need to mention this one? Current ruler is Maege Mormont, and her heir is Alysane Mormont.
HOUSE POOLE: We don’t know if the Pooles have lands or a castle, but Jeyne Poole is the only remaining Poole still alive.
HOUSE REED: Given that Jojen is pretty certain he will die soon ( and I believe him ), the rule of the Neck will eventually pass to Meera Reed.
HOUSE STARK: Though Bran and Rickon are still alive, and I firmly believe they will remain that way, it’s very likely that Sansa Stark might rule in Bran or Rickon’s name.
HOUSE TALLHART: After the deaths of her father, Helman, and elder brother, Benfred, Eddara Tallhart becomes the Lady of Torrhen’s Square.
It all has a very post-Dance of the Dragons feel to it. To quote Fire and Blood Vol. 1:
“So many lords, both great and small, had perished during the Dance of the Dragons that the Citadel rightly names this time the Winter of the Widows. Never before or since in the history of the Seven Kingdoms have so many women wielded so much power, ruling in the place of their slain husbands, brothers, and fathers, for sons in swaddling clothes or still on the teat. Many of their stories have been collected in Archmaester Abelon’s mammoth When Women Ruled: Ladies of the Aftermath.”
“Winter of the Widows.” Wow. I see you, George. I see you.
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