Late to King’s Landing


I just watched Game of Thrones. I know, I know…I’m soooo behind the times. I’m late to the Game of Thrones party. I’m late to all the good parties. By the time I got to Downton, World War I was over and our days with Matthew were already numbered.

(Of course, if it’s an actual, physical event we’re talking about, the kind where you’re supposed to arrive fashionably late, then I show up early. Pathologically early. Killing-time-in-the-parking-lot early. Tardiness tears me up inside more than a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.)

But back to Game of Thrones: my dear husband, Rich, read the books and then bought the series. I’ve been having some trouble with my eyes and am limited in how much I can read each day, so I thought I’d give them a rest and do some picture watching instead.

A few thoughts after four seasons:

  • The Lannisters are one of the families vying for the Iron Throne.  They all have royal, mysterious, ancient-sounding names: Tywin, Tyrion, Cersei, and Jaime. Jaime? Why not just call him Bob?
  • Strong female characters abound. Arya Stark is a favorite. So is Daenerys Targaryen, the daughter of a royal family who is used by her brother as a pawn in his quest for power. Her brother marries her off to the leader of a band of savages, telling her bluntly that he doesn’t care what the Dothraki do to her body, as long as their weapons help him retake power. But instead of living in fear of her new husband, Daenerys cunningly learns the Dothraki language and uses her other… umm… charms… to forge a real connection with Khal Drogo and make a power grab of her own. Feminist message: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade f*#% the hell out of them.
  • Khal Drogo. Sigh. In real life, he’s married to Lisa Bonet. Cosby kid for the win!
  • I’m a big fan of Cesar Millan, so I like to refer to my dogs as my “pack.” Forget that. From now on, they’re my “horde.” I’m also trying to get Rich to call me “Khaleesi.” So far, no go.
  • That’s a lot of boobs. As a woman with “dense” breasts (that’s my gynecologist’s clinical term for “very small”), I love that they cast women with mostly natural bodies – at least the ones who play naked whores. The producers could have filled the brothels with implants, but they opted not to. Over four seasons, you see breasts of every size, shape, color, and droop. All beautiful. It’s step in the right direction.
  • My plan to rest my eyes by watching TV instead of reading failed quickly because I couldn’t understand any of the dialogue. I had to watch with the closed captioning on. I wish this setting was available in real life.

And just one more:

  • I’m sure Rose Leslie is a fine actress, but I just could not believe her as Ygritte, the wildling woman who falls in love with Jon Snow. I think because her breathy, British-accented voice is so distinctive. When she stripped off her animal pelts in that cave, I was shocked at her nakedness. I expected that underneath she’d have on a black and white Downton Abbey housemaid uniform and tell Jon, “I can’t love you, Crow! I just want to be a secretary!”