Game of Thrones: “The Red Woman”—Thematic Analysis

The first episode of a new Game of Thrones season is always the one where the producers reset the scene. This is where your plot exposition goes. The dialogue recounts the events of the finale last year, and in some cases, events of seasons prior. Anyone who thought Jon Snow would get up and walk by the end of the hour forgets that events in Westeros simply never move that fast, although once the dominoes are set up, the speed at which they topple is what remains in our minds.

Jaime: “F*** prophecy, f*** fate. F*** everyone who isn’t us. We’re the only ones who matter, the only ones in this world. And everything they’ve taken from us, we’re going to take back and more. We’re going to take everything there is.”

This week’s return focused on those who are floundering as fate chooses their directions. Even those who look like they are in control of the situation are not. Ramsay may still sit in the seat of Northern power, but he’s lost two valuable pieces through his own stupidity. Everyone always talks about Sansa as “the key to the north,” but hearing Theon referred to as “the heir to the Iron Islands” was a reminder that the Boltons could have cleaned up and paraded Theon around as proof that they had an entire second section of Westeros behind them at any time.

Tyrion’s also sitting in the seat of power in Meereen, projecting that “Shadow on the Wall.” But though Tywin’s lessons about always projecting Lannister strength are so deeply ingrained that he literally cannot hold himself any other way, Tyrion is even less in control here than he was when he was the Hand in King’s Landing. His instincts are on point—getting out of that 800-foot pyramid on a regular basis would have done Dany a world of good. The problem is, Tyrion is not Dany. He can’t even speak the language properly, and his appearance scares people. It’s one thing for those like Bronn crack jokes to Tyrion about dwarves eating babies, but that’s a far cry from being confronted by a woman who really and truly thought Tyrion was trying to eat her baby. And in the end, what good does walking around the streets do for him? He could have had a better view of the bonfire of Dany’s once-great fleet from the top of the pyramid, and would have been just as unable to stop it as Cersei thinks she is unable to stop the prophecy she thinks is killing her children.

Varys: “You walk like a rich person. You walk as though the paving stones were your personal property.”

At least Tyrion has the pyramid to retreat to. All four of our main female protagonists were in dire straights this week. Arya was blinded in the streets and being beaten by The Waif. Sansa was freezing in the snow, run down by dogs. Cersei was in her gilded cage, talking about prophecies that she can’t fight.

But seeing Dany, the once proud Mother of Dragons, being whipped along by Dothraki riders who casually discuss who gets to rape her first was, for me, the hardest to watch. Dany played her hand as best she could. She didn’t speak about her claim until she was brought before the Khal, rolling through title after title until she found one that he would respect. There was only one problem: the one that gained her respect didn’t grant her freedom. The name Khal Drogo still affords her a level of protection, but it also traps her. It condemns her to the fate of all widowed khalessis: to be taken to the Vaes Dothrak, where she will be expected to live out a life befitting her status, and that life won’t involve returning to Meereen or crossing the Narrow Sea to Westeros.

Meanwhile, Margaery still sits in the dungeons. This was a short scene this week, but an interesting one, as Septa Unella and the High Sparrow played out the classic “good cop/bad cop” dynamic. Like Tyrion and the Boltons, they are not in control here—they just walk like they are. Margaery is beloved by the people—the longer they hold Margaery after letting Cersei go, the weaker their position gets, which is why suddenly Margaery finds herself having face time with the High Sparrow. (A courtesy Cersei was never granted until after she “confessed.”) One senses that, whatever happens, Margaery will not be paraded through the streets naked—it would not serve the Sparrow cause to do such a thing. The question is if Margaery still has enough wits about her after all this to see that they need her, and that there is a deal to be made, if she can just find the right opening.

Edd: “If you were planning to see tomorrow, you picked the wrong room. We all die today.”

Speaking of walking like you’re the one in control, what the hell just happened in Dorne? The facade that Doran had any control over any of this nonsense came crumbling down faster than the Wall will when the White Walkers finally show up. The Sand Snakes taking charge in Dorne played like a counterpoint to Sansa accepting Brienne’s service after the good Maid of Tarth showed up and mowed down the Bolton men. But where the Sand Snakes made killing look easy, graceful even, Brienne and Pod (with a final assist from Theon) reminded us that killing other human beings is hard, ugly work that makes your crossfit routine look like a warm up. The contrast between the two was startling, especially since the sight of Sansa accepting Brienne’s service was to be cheered, while the sight of the women taking charge in Dorne was to be feared as the biggest calamity since…well, since the show chose to include Dorne at all.

But we cannot speak of “women in charge” without turning to the final moments of this week’s episode. Up at the Wall, Alliser Thorne has the same problems as Tyrion and the High Sparrow: his power is only a shadow on a much larger Wall, at least he can bring down those still loyal to Jon Snow. Davos may hold out hope for Edd’s return with help, but until then, he thinks he can turn to someone who has spent four seasons on this show projecting power, magic, and strength. But power is an illusion, and Melisandre’s is no exception. Everyone may be shocked by her appearance when she takes off her necklace. (To paraphrase another ancient character, “When 400 years old, you reach… Look as good, you will not.”) But she’s only doing the same thing that Tyrion, Thorne, the High Sparrow, and even Doran was: projecting power and strength to hide the true weaknesses inside while she, and everyone else, is floundering.