Book-Reader’s Recap—Game of Thrones, Episode 701—”Dragonstone”
By Dan Selcke
Spoiler Note: This post is intended for those who have read the books in the Song of Ice and Fire series. As such, the post itself and the comments will contain spoilers. If you haven’t read the books yet, you can discuss this episode in our non-book reader (Unsullied) recap. Thanks!
After what seems like an eternity, we’re finally ready to tear into another season of Game of Thrones! Happy day!
First, a quick note. Even though the show has moved well beyond the plot of the books by this point, we’re still going to have two recaps for each episode: one intended for those who have read the Song of Ice and Fire novels and one for people who have only ever seen the show. Game of Thrones may have moved past the source material, but season 6 showed us that elements of the books can still turn up in unexpected places, and that the added context from the novels is still helpful when reading the episodes.
And that’s that. Now let’s get to “Dragonstone!”
Overall, this was an impressive debut. Even the “Previously On” segment was well put-together, with some eerie tones spliced in that harkened back to the music that played over Cersei’s destruction of the Sept of Baelor. I also liked seeing all the old faces that popped up. Shireen! Viserys! Stannis! That farmer the Hound doomed! As a story, one of Game of Thrones’ great advantages is its rich history, and six seasons in, it’s better positioned to take advantage of that history than ever before.
Speaking of old faces, we begin at the Twins, in one of the show’s rare cold opens. Walder Frey is presiding over a banquet, but of course it’s not really Walder Frey. Everyone and their aunt knows it’s Arya Stark in disguise, and David Bradley does some subtle things to indicate that there’s someone else underneath his skin — he’s less distractible than Walder Frey usually is, and stares harder. This must have been fun for Bradley — how often does a 70-something actor get to play a teenage girl?
Arya-Walder has gathered together “every Frey who means a damn thing” to have a feast, and has some fun baiting the assemblage by calling them “proper heroes” before reminding them that they’re in power because they murdered a pregnant woman, her baby, and a lot of people who were there as guests. They are visibly uncomfortable, and that’s before they start hacking up blood and Arya-Walder launches into a vengeful monologue good enough to transcribe in full:
"But you didn’t slaughter every one of the Starks. No no. That was your mistake. You should have ripped them all out, root and stem. Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe."
It’s a chills-inducing moment, particularly that last line.
And as the Freys fall over dead, Arya removes the Walder mask, looking as impassive and unmoved as you’d expect someone who just committed a mass murder to look. “When people ask you what happened here, tell them the North remembers,” she says to the serving girl next to her. It’s another good line. “Tell them winter came for House Frey.” Then she walks out in her oversized coat, a little smile on her face as she leaves behind a roomful of bodies.
I have some issues with the logic of this sequence (Where did Arya hide the real Walder’s body? Does she know enough to remove and treat a face for wearing? Where did get all the poison?), but it’s probably best not to think too hard about those questions in the face of its power. It’s the most memorable scene of the episode, and with good reason. It continues the theme of upward Stark mobility from season 6, with the good guys finally marking down a few wins. But as before, it raises the question of whether we can root for Arya when she’s basically a serial killer. This is by far her most violent act yet, and as she sees later when eating with the Lannister soldiers, just because someone is on the opposite side of a conflict doesn’t mean they’re evil people.
Let’s talk about that scene, because it’s a good one overall, if a little hokey. As it starts, Arya rides into a snowy clearing where a bunch of Lannister soldiers are sitting around a campfire. Ed Sheeran, making his Game of Thrones debut, is singing “Hands of Gold,” the song Symon Silver Tongue wrote in A Storm of Swords. There, it was about Tyrion’s affair with Shae. The context is obviously different here, but Sheeran sings it well, and it’s always nice to hear one of the songs from the books show up on TV.
The reason I say this scene is hokey is because all the Lannister soldiers are so damn nice, right down to one who says his mother always told him to be kind to strangers and who just wishes he could be with his dad on his boat back home. Game of Thrones is not known for its subtlety, but I feel like they’re pumping up the approachability of these soldiers to make a point.
That said, the point is worth making. Meeting ordinary people is something that Arya hasn’t been able to do for a looooong time. The scene reminds us that she is, at heart, a very gregarious person, and reinforces the idea that most of the people fighting in this war are just people. They’re not hellbent on amassing power like Cersei, and they’re certainly not misanthropic monsters like the Night King. Does Arya have the right to take their lives because they fight on the wrong side of the war? Did she have the right to take the lives of all those Frey men, some of whom may well have spoken out against the Red Wedding? I hope that’s something we dive into this year.
Elsewhere in the Riverlands, the Hound and the Brotherhood Without Banners march through the falling snow and happen upon the hut where the Hound robbed the farmer and his daughter back in season 4’s “Breaker of Chains.” He’s not pleased about that.
This is the strangest part of the episode, and the part that advances the plot the least, but it might also be the most beautiful. The farmer and his daughter are long dead, huddled for warmth in a corner, reduced to skeletons. Director Jeremy Podeswa gets in some striking, painting-like compositions here.
I like the fact the show is taking the time to slow down and focus on the Hound’s lingering guilt. Even when he left these two to die in season 4, he was harboring reservations deep down. His brush with death and time spent with Septon Ray have brought those reservations closer to the surface, which is why he elects to bury them later. It may indeed not be too late for him.
The scene’s power may also have something to do with…a religious awakening? Can we call it that? The Hound has always been on the front lines of the fight for pessimism, but he has a close encounter with the divine here when Thoros encourages to look into the flames, like the Red Priests and Priestesses do. Much to his surprise — and ours, and Beric’s, by the looks of it — the Hound sees Eastwatch by the Sea. Plot-wise, this is setting up an encounter with Tormund Giantsbane, but in terms of character, it’s a leap forward in the Hound’s evolution. Might the man with a lifelong fear of fire find some kind of salvation in it?
Meanwhile, way north of the Riverlands, we get a long, chilling shot of the White Walkers and their army of the dead marching towards the camera over a sea made of snow. The composition of this shot is terrific. The camera never moves, but catches the White Walkers as they move by slowly, preceded by a thick cloud of mist and ice. The Night King, who’s riding a horse in front, has eyes that glow blue in the darkness, and the shot ends by zooming in on the ragged remains of a zombie giant. It’s creepy, effective work by Podeswa. The Arya sequence may take Scene of the Episode, but this takes Shot of the Episode.
The whole thing is being seen by Bran, who’s made it to the Wall. Or rather, Meera Reed has dragged him there. The poor girl has to be exhausted. Somebody get her a hug and a warm bath.
Anyway, Dolorous Edd is still acting Lord Commander in Jon’s absence, and looks to have settled into the role quite nicely, whatever his reservations. After Meera tells him Bran’s identity, he asks for proof. By way of answer, Bran rattles off a list of the worst moments in Edd’s life, including the fight at the Fist of the First Men and the Massacre at Hardhome. I don’t know how that proves that Bran is Bran, but it labels him as interesting enough to let through the tunnel.
Down at Winterfell, Jon is trying to plan for the coming White Walker invasion, and has gathered all the lords of the North in Winterfell’s great hall. He wants maesters to look for dragonglass, he tells them. The wildlings, led by Tormund Giantsbane, will garrison Eastwatch by the Sea (hence the Hound connection), and the Northern lords will train every subject — boy or girl — in combat. Naturally, not everyone is okay with that last bit, which gives little Lyanna Mormont an excuse to stand up and declare herself the Queen of Girl Power. It’s a little self-consciously crowd-pleasing, but still fun.
And now the controversial bit: Jon has to decide what to do about Karhold and the Last Hearth, the castles belonging to oathbreakers the Karstarks and the Umbers respectively. We get our first taste of the sibling rivalry the actors kept promising during the off-season when Sansa suggests giving the castles over to families that fought for Jon during the Battle of the Bastards, but Jon doesn’t believe in punishing children for their parents’ misdeeds, and opts to give them to the new leaders of Houses Karstark and Umber instead: the teenage Alys Karstark and the young Ned Umber.
First of all, book readers should note that this Alys Karstark bears little resemblance to the crafty, quick-thinking girl from the books, at least not yet. But she’s not the point of this scene. The point is to show a division between Jon and Sansa (with Littlefinger lapping it all up from the shadows, naturally). The issue they’re discussing is a good path on which to branch — I can buy that Jon and Sansa would have differing views here, and I can see both of their points. It’s the timing that feels kind of artificial. They couldn’t have hashed this out beforehand so they wouldn’t look weak in front of the crowd? I suppose you could say that it had never come up before, but I find that hard to believe, and even then, Sansa probably could have waited until later to voice her misgivings.
But then again, if Sansa thought she had a chance to change Jon’s mind before he gave a proclamation, she best speak up. At the least, the drama in Winterfell is still percolating, and that’s a good thing.
Let’s see how it develops in their one-on-one walk-and-talk on the Winterfell ramparts. It’s a solid back and forth where both of them make good points. Jon admonishes Sansa for undermining him in front of the other lords, and Sansa points out something that Melisandre thinks in the books: that the reality of power is often tied up with the trappings of power, and that Jon Snow, young and cloaked in the false arrogance of humility, ignores those trapping at his own risk.
Actually, what she says is, “Will you start wearing a crown?” But the point stands. If Jon’s a king, he needs to act the part, and Sansa knows something about how rulers act. “You have to be smarter than father,” she says, displaying the same kind of hard-headedness she showed when she admitted that Rickon was a goner before the Battle of the Bastards. “You have to be smarter than Robb.” She is right here, and while I don’t think we’re going to have a Jon-vs-Sansa storyline in the future, the show does seem to set one up when Jon, somewhat callously, asks, “And how should I be smarter? By listening to you?” “Would that be so terrible?” Sansa replies. Would it?
After that, Maester Wolkan — the maester who was working for the Boltons in season 6 — delivers a message from Cersei. The gist: bend the knee or I’ll kill the fuck out of you. It’s another opportunity for Jon and Sansa to clash, and again, I love that I see both of their points. Jon is focused on the Night King, because he’s a murderous ice zombie bent on human genocide. But Sansa knows that Cersei can be more than a little dangerous herself. Overall, I’m really liking how these two are playing off each other so far. It’s just a shame we’re only going to get seven episodes of it this year.
Later, Littlefinger and Sansa watch Brienne and Podrick spar in the Winterfell courtyard. “Brreaggg!” Podrick grunts as Brienne whips him again, and I laugh. But when Brienne is momentarily distracted by Tormund leering at her, Pod gets in a lick. Brienne wrecks him utterly, and I laugh again. Sorry, Podrick. Keep on trucking.
As for Sansa and Littlefinger, they have a brief exchange where it is reiterated that Littlefinger has an interest in Sansa that is not reciprocated. At the moment, I’m not sure what the point of this scene was, although Sansa gets in a nice line when Brienne arrives to break up their chat. “No need to seize the last word, Lord Baelish. I’ll assume it was something clever.”
You know what? I take that back. The point of the scene was probably to remind people that Littlefinger still controls the Knights of the Vale. Okay. Point established. Moving on.
In King’s Landing, Cersei stalks around that awesome map room we saw in the trailers. She takes a dri…wait, she has no wine. What’s wrong, Cersei?
Jaime comes in, and they tip-toe around the subject of their relationship. “Are you angry with me?” Cersei asks. Nope. “Are you afraid of me?” Quite possibly. To avoid diving down that worm hole, Cersei deflects like a champ, activating Jaime’s guilt reflex by reminding him that he let Tyrion free, and then engaging him in a strategic talk about where Daenerys will land when she gets to Westeros. It mostly works, but eventually, the subject of Tommen comes up, and…there! I knew she would go for the wine eventually.
What’s great about this bit is that Cersei is clearly doing everything she can not to think about Tommen — she would much rather focus on being the Dark Queen of all Evil — but it’s obviously tearing her up inside. I can’t wait for those contradictory feelings to be further explored. Sensing how uncomfortable she is, Jaime turns the conversation back towards strategy, and points out their desperate need for allies. “Allies, you say?” ask Cersei’s eyebrows. “Follow me.”
Enter Euron Greyjoy’s massive fleet, headed by a ship with a kraken on the prow and what looks like a small castle on the deck. It’s silly to ask the audience to believe that Euron could have made all these ships in that short an amount of time, but damn, they look cool.
It’s also silly to ask the audience to believe that Cersei invited Euron and his huge fleet all the way to King’s Landing without Jaime ever knowing about it. This kind of reads like Sansa interrupting Jon in front of the Northern lords. I get that they need to set up future conflicts, but really? I guess Jaime has been cutting Small Council meetings to hang out in Bronn’s room and brood about his relationship.
But that’s in the past. The present is all about Euron Greyjoy, who appears before Cersei and Jaime in the Red Keep throne room, dressed like Jack Sparrow if he ran a Hot Topic. Basically, he’s there to make an alliance with Cersei so they can take down Daenerys and her allies — who include Theon and Yara, Euron’s traitorous nephew and niece — together. Euron offers marriage, but Cersei declines, citing Euron’s history of murdering people he’s supposed to work with, like his brother. “You should try [killing your brother],” he tells Cersei, with Jaime right the hell there. “Feels wonderful.” In the end, in order to prove his good intentions, he vows to bring Cersei “a priceless gift,” and leaves.
So there was a lot of plot being set up here, but I think the main point of this scene was to give us a better impression of Euron, who has been pretty hit or miss on the show up until now. I enjoyed the scene a lot. At this point, we’ve had a few towering asshole villains, namely Joffrey and Ramsay. But there’s something very enduring about the towering asshole type, in no small part because it’s so reliably fun to play. Actor Pilou Asbæk digs into Euron’s playful side here, smirking his way through psychopathic quips like this one.
- Jaime Lannister, talking about killing Greyjoys during the siege of Pyke: “The people I was cutting down were your own kin.”
- Euron: “Place was getting crowded.”
What can I say? I laughed. There’s a mania in Asbæk’s eyes that isn’t unwelcome on this show about very unstable people killing each other. What remains to be seen is if the show is content to simply let Euron be the towering asshole de jour or if it’ll dive into some of the more apocalyptic aspects of his personality from the books — kraken visions, downing shade of the evening by the barrel full, and the like. Honestly, I’d be fine either way, but I think the characters took a good first step here.
And now we come to the Citadel, where Sam is shoveling poop. We see a montage of Sam doing menial chores — cleaning the bedpans of the sick, putting away books, ladling soup in the Citadel cafeteria, cleaning more bedpans, more books, more soup, more poop. Mostly poop. Poop and retching.
I didn’t like it. Game of Thrones usually stays away from heavily stylistic stuff like this. It’s too film school senior project for this show. Happily, it’s soon over, and we get a much better scene of Sam dissecting corpses with Archmaester Marwyn, played by Oscar winner Jim Broadbent.
As with Alys Karstark, this is not the Marwyn we know from the books. That character was bellicose and brash. This Marwyn is more of a kindly professor-type, a scholar who’s been living the life of the mind for a while and has grown very comfortable with it. He’s not entirely unlike Professor Slughorn, the character Broadbent played in the Harry Potter movies, an analogy that’s driven home when Sam asks to be granted access to the restricted section of the library. But I’ll let the meme craftspeople of the internet explore that parallel.
Sam, mindful of the reason he’s at the Citadel in the first place, wants to get into the restricted section so he can find out more about the White Walkers, which he’s seen with his own eyes. Watching this scene, you get the idea that a lot of people have laughed Sam out of the room when he’s talked abut this, but Marwyn believes Sam about the White Walkers — he just doesn’t care. “When Robert’s Rebellion was raging, people thought the end was near,” he points out. People thought the world was ending when Aegon Targaryen invaded, and when they were in the depths of the Long Night. “The Wall has stood through it all, and every winter that ever came has ended.”
I actually think this is an excellent point. Yes, there are horrors beyond the Wall, but why does everyone assume that the Night King and his followers will find a way to breach it? They couldn’t do it in the past several thousand years. What, to their knowledge, makes this time different?
Well-reasoned or not, that point doesn’t hold water with Sam, who is bound and determined to get into that restricted section. He lifts the keys off a sleeping maester and sneaks in, taking some books back to a room he shares with Gilly and Little Sam, the latter of whom is still remarkably tiny considering how many seasons he’s been on this show. Between awesome exterior shots of the city at night, Sam happens upon a page about Dragonstone and its caches of dragonglass. “I can tell Jon!” he thinks. “He’ll give me a gold star!” And his pen starts flying.
Soon after, Sam is back making his rounds at the Citadel, delivering food to the gravely sick, when a scaly arm reaches out of a hole in a door. It belongs to Jorah Mormont. “Has she come yet?” he asks. “The Dragon Queen?” Sam, frightened by this inappropriate crazy person, recoils, but unbeknownst to either of them, Daenerys is right at that moment approaching Dragonstone, her mouth set firm in determination, her back adorned with her new black-and-red heavy metal ensemble, and her entourage behind her.
The Dragonstone sequence, wherein Daenerys makes her way slowly through her new digs, proceeds wordlessly, and serves two functions: 1) to reinforce what an important moment this is for Dany; and 2) to show off how awesome the Dragonstone set looks.
I mean, they clearly spent more money on Dragonstone this time around than when Stannis was there. It looks magnificent, and helps sell the idea that this is an important moment for Dany. But for all the magnificence inside and out — the dragon heads guarding the main gate, the winding stair, the stony throne in the audience chamber, the Painted Table — the most effecting moment may come right at the beginning, when Dany kneels down and runs sand from the beach through her fingers, feeling for the first time what this country — her country — is made of.
Finally, in the last part of the sequence, she takes her place at the head of the Painted Table, the figures Stannis used to plan battles still scattered across it. “Shall we begin?” she asks Tyrion. Yes, lets.
Next: I’m a Firestarter, a Twisted Firestarter—The Cersei Lannister Story
Odds and Ends
- For the first time in an episode of Game of Thrones, we don’t visit Essos at all. That’s another one of those chills-inducing revelations. The world really is shrinking. Also, Oldtown looks badass on the world map, with the astrolabe standing in for the Citadel library and the Hightower rising above all.
- And of course it’s nice to see the Stark sigil at Winterfell, again. The new credits get a thumbs up from me.
- I imagine Jon ordered the girls as well as the boys to train in combat in large part because his experiences with the wlidlings, and with Ygritte in particular, taught him that women are every bit as capable of fighting as men. It’s good to see Ygritte exert subtle influence over the stor all these seasons later.
- I’m just gonna say it: Sophie Turner’s new Sansa wig is not cutting it. Back to dying her hair in season 8, I hope?
- Euron made an awful lot of quips at Jaime’s expense, including this jewel: “Here I am with a thousand ships, and two good hands.” Oh, he can stay.
- I enjoyed Marwyn’s impassioned argument for why the world needs maesters. “We are this world’s memory, Samwell Tarly. Without us, men would be little better than dogs. Don’t remember any meal but the last, can’t see forward through any but the next.” I doubt the show will have time to get into the alleged maester conspiracy against magic, though.
- The Tormund-Brienne connection is cute, but I doubt it’ll go any further than mild flirtation. I’m glad the writers are having fun with it, but I’d hate for them to overdo it.
- The Hound accusing Thoros of Myr of hiding his bald spot with a top knot is already gaining traction online. He’s just a quote machine, this guy. Also, this. Thoros: “Why are you always in such a foul mood?” The Hound: “Experience.”
- When we first see Daenerys, her face looks set in a way that reminded me of Cersei. Anybody else see it?
Next week, war starts busting out all over in “Stormborn.” It’s good to have the show back!