Spoiler alert. Don’t read this if you’re not up to date on Game of Thrones.
I’m still a little unsettled after watching Episode 9 of the current Game of Thrones season.
I think everyone who follows GoT, and who hasn’t read the books, was shaken by the latest developments. My friend, Wrinkly Joe, and my son, Bullet, have both read the series, and both have smugly been keeping recent developments to themselves, in a smug, keeping-it-to-yourself kind of way.
Who could possibly have foreseen that Batman would abseil into King’s Landing and kill James Bond?
Apparently, James RR Martin has laid out all the details of future plots for HBO, in case he’s unexpectedly torn to pieces by a wolf or a dragon might suddenly burn him to cinders. It’s not surprising. By now, many of his followers want to rend him limb from limb for being so ruthless with his characters, and yet, he’s in a great tradition. The very best authors have held their protagonists in little regard. Well I remember Stephen King flinging cute little children down wells and even the great Shakespeare stabbing heroes through the heart. Proper order too: they’re only inventions, so why not chop them up and immolate them as the story demands?
But you know, there are times when you become attached to a character. I know it’s silly, since the creature is no more than a figment of an author’s febrile brain, but still, we get to like them, or at the very least, we become used to them, and their sudden death comes as a shock.
I was always a bit concerned about Walder Frey. They were never going to placate him as easily as they thought, but I never suspected he’d do what he did, the evil old bastard.
Where does this leave us? I don’t know, but amazingly, there’s one last episode left in the current series, which I find astonishing. How could they possibly end the season with anything more shocking?