I'm not opposed to violence in entertainment. While I certainly don't desire any violence in my own life—or in anyone else's really—violence is part of the classic formula for drama. Whether it's physical or mental, forcing your protagonist through various trials is very nearly the definition of narrative.
One of my favorite authors, American science fiction and fantasy writer Tim Powers, is capable of working with astounding levels of subtlety and authenticity, weaving together stories in which the fantastical elements are so tightly bound to the mundane that you can forget they're not a part of your daily life. Even so, Powers so regularly batters his lead characters with a course of life- and limb-threatening challenges, that my writing group used to hand out the "Tim Powers Award" when a manuscript ran past us whose central character finished the text battered, aged, blinded, de-limbed, or simply very, very beaten up.
In the hands of a poor writer, violence is a crutch to keep the plot hobbling along. In the hands of a good one, it can be a means to make both characters and readers reexamine their understanding of the world and weigh their own moral decisions.
So when I say that this week's Game of Thrones handled a moment of violence in a way that made me seriously consider whether I want to watch any further ... mark that down as "very poor."
Head below the fold for all the violent details.
I'm not going to fiddle around. Let's get to the point: Sansa Stark was raped.
Anyone who thought that Sansa was being put into a position where she might find a way out of the noose that had been tightening around her since Littlefinger delivered her to the Boltons was sadly disappointed. The servant girl who wanted to keep her place in bastard Ramsay's bed, and who Sansa might have used to leverage some different outcome was dismissed. The moment at the wedding where it seemed that Sansa might lodge some protest ... passed. The desire that she might produce some weapon, initiate some scheme, even make a struggle, went unfulfilled.
All of that's okay. Not okay in the "it's all right for something this vile to happen to someone" sense, but okay in the "the point of a narrative isn't to provide simplistic wish fulfillment" sense. It's okay for either a book or a television show to dash your hopes, to frustrate you. Even to purposely offend you. Any work that satisfied your hopes at every turn would have all the narrative tension of a a deflated balloon. On the other hand, a story that never provides a moment of satisfaction would be, well Ethan Frome, but also by definition completely unsatisfying.
Despite all the Youtube instances of screaming, crying and abuse of televisions, for the most part Game of Thrones has skated the edge of frustration quite well. Sure, the awful moments stick in your head (that's true in real life, as well) but there have been some fine scenes, from Tyrion rallying the troops at the Battle of the Blackwater to Dany emerging from the flames. I'm not going to fault the series just for throwing me another fastball to the head.
And, both objectively and subjectively, worse things have happened at Westerosi weddings. Weddings have become the go-to event for awful in Game of Thrones. I mean, we saw Rob Stark, his young bride, and his loyal followers betrayed and butchered in front of his screaming mother moments before mom got her throat sliced. Oh, and little sis arrived on the scene just in time to hear the screaming. That was a bad day.
I'm not even going to complain about the passivity of Sansa's behavior throughout the episode. For most of the season, Sansa has adopted a stoicism so severe it needs a new term. Sansaism. Socisansam. Sanstoicism. Is she hiding behind a cloak of magnificent indifference to protect herself from the ongoing horrors to which she's been subjected? Has she actually been battered into a kind of emotional dead space? Is she playing the longest of long games, willing to take any level of pain and humiliation until she arrives at a moment where revenge is possible? Is Sansa Stark, the girl who dreamed of knights and fair ladies, still in that tall, pale body in any real sense? I don't know. And the fact that I don't know? That's pretty damn cool.
That I don't know if the next time she picks up a knife Sansa will go for Ramsay's throat, slice her own wrist, or simply butter the toast ... that's the way it should be.
So, with all that said, why is last week's episode the one that's pushed me to the brink of walking away?
It wasn't that sadistic toad Ramsay despoiled the beautiful, silent girl. It was that, and I can still barely grasp this, the whole thing was framed as a challenge for Theon. Theon. The focus of the whole thing became not what is this doing to Sansa, but how is this affecting that eternal ass, Theon Greyjoy. Sure, I know that Theon has also undergone unspeakable awfulness. I know because they rubbed our faces in it for the better part of a season. I also know that Theon was put in a position where he was pinned between pleasing his hardass father and being loyal to his friend. So ... yeah, poor Theon. The thing is, Theon Greyjoy hasn't just made the wrong decision at every opportunity, Theon was an ass before be betrayed Robb. Theon was an ass in the campaign. Theon was an ass back at Winterfell in the first season. Theon was an ass from the moment he walked on screen.
I'm not interested in the redemption story of Theon Greyjoy. Theon was never even redeemed in the first place.
Still, even if Theon had all the good traits of Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly rolled into one lumpy, curly haired package, what they did last week was painful to watch. Not what they did to Sansa. What they did to what they did to Sansa. They turned the sexual assault of a woman into a moral dilemma not for her, but for a man who was watching.
It's far from the only television show, book, movie, short story, or whatever to do this. Hell, it's probably not the only show to do so last week, but just ... damn. Don't we deserve better? Not "we" as in Sansa. Not even we as in "Game of Thrones viewers." We as in everyone. Hasn't everyone gotten tired of this yet? In a show with a terrific cast of strong female characters, why should an event both so terrible and so pivotal be reduced to a character test for a secondary male character? It's not how Ramsay Bolton treated Sansa that offends me. It's how David Benioff and D. B. Weiss treated her that really pissed me off.
And yes, other things happened. Arya is once again performing tasks at the House of Black and White for obscure reasons. No one has asked her to snatch a pebble from their hand yet, but she has given a sponge bath to a corpse. Later, Arya wanders into the Head Museum (though there's no harrr-oooing Nixon, a feature that no Head Museum should be without).
Down the coast, Tyrion and Jorah Mormont get captured by slavers and both have to do some fast talking to preserve all their parts and maintain some chance of going to Meereen.
Bouncing back to Dorne, everyone seems to be attempting to kidnap/save Princess Myrcella at the same time, resulting in Jaime, Bronn and the newly introduced Sand Snakes all getting captured together. Some points of the book plots have been justifiably condensed, but this chunk of plot was so compressed it threatened to form a black hole. The Sand Snakes don't come off as impressive as they are in the book, but at least some moments of the fight are fun. Best thing about these scenes: Myrcella really does look like she could be Cersei's daughter.
Back to the Iron Throne, the Sparrows have arrested Loras for the crime of gayness and with no more than a quick take on Atticus Does King's Landing, they manage to ensnare Queen Margaery, as well. All is going according to Cersei's hand-rubbing plans. For now. Though the Sparrows seem to be 100 percent out of control.
And finally, just in case you thought that Sansa's actions up in Winterfell were part of the overall Littlefinger Plan, the mockingbird arrives back in the capitol just in time to promise that he'll turn over Sansa for ever popular head-on-pike purposes.