Season Eight of Game of Thrones Must Preserve Author's Vision
When George R. R. Martin wrote the first draft of Game of Thrones over two decades ago, he envisioned a fantasy tale that would break away from the genre mold set by predecessors like J. R. R. Tolkien. Instead of a magical war between heroes and monsters, Martin forged a grounded medieval world in which good versus evil was an internal struggle—a world where your least favorite character could organically become your favorite, then immediately die. Any fantasy elements present in Martin’s world are either lost or woven into legend when the story begins. Martin does introduce more magic as the series progresses, but their delayed and gradual arrival allows less traditional fantasy themes to take precedence in the foundation of the tale, which is what draws so many people to its storyline.
Some of the themes present in the series could be interpreted as jabs at classic Tolkien-esque fantasy tropes: characters’ morals are never black and white, religion is a corrupt institution and women are in a constant struggle to be seen as equals.
Even after magical elements become major components of the series, none of the action rivals the high fantasy, biblical spectacles of a Lord Of The Rings book. Instead, the intrigue of the series generally falls to the political drama of a feudalistic society at war. Some of the themes present in the series could be interpreted as jabs at classic Tolkien-esque fantasy tropes: characters’ morals are never black and white, religion is a corrupt institution and women are in a constant struggle to be seen as equals. This contrasts the holy, patriarchal and righteous tones that reside in Tolkien's world.
Another one of the elements of Martin’s world that endears itself to a reader such as myself, is Martin’s commitment to hyper-logical storytelling. Hyper-logical storytelling within a fantasy world may appear to be an oxymoron—our laws of physics do not permit the existence of flying dragons or shadow demons—however, Martin’s hyper-logical storytelling style simply means he establishes his own “in-world” rules and commits to them. He then builds the world and the characters around these pre-established rules. The story then organically stems from the established elements interacting—much like the clockwork universe theory pioneered in the age of enlightenment in which God built the world like a clock, positioning all the intricacies of our world and then vanishing to let the world run on its own.
The vast amount of information that accompanies this approach to storytelling allows the reader a type of three-dimensional mobility within the world. While ultimately, the story is in the hands of the author, the community feels validated in exploring all aspects of the world through theory and speculation. In a medium where an author may take upwards of seven years to provide any new material, this type of community discussion is essential for maintaining interest in the property. Having completed the most recent installment in A Song Of Ice And Fire, A Dance With Dragons over three years ago, around 80 percent of my interactions with the world derives from community debate and discovery. My ability to participate in this community is rooted in my knowledge of the validity of the theories in question pertaining to the pre-established rules of the world. I would no longer be invested in this series to any degree if I did not find refreshment from this community.
Now enter David and Dan (aka the Double Ds), showrunners for the TV version of the A Song Of Ice and Fire series, Game of Thrones. These men tackled the thought-to-be-impossible task of adapting the expansive fantasy series for a mainstream TV audience and have done an incredible job. Seasons one through four of Game Of Thrones are arguably some of the best television ever put to screen. By 2016, the series had accumulated 38 Emmys.
The adaptation was successful in bringing this literature to life. However, when the show surpassed the books, many of the core elements set so firmly by Martin began to slip. This has come to head in this seventh season where the Double Ds have seemingly forgotten the foundations of the world they have been inhabiting for the past seven years.
The first sin was the general homogenization and subsequent polarization of the characters. Once the guiding hand of GRRM (George R. R. Martin) disappeared in season five, the Double Ds began to purge their characters of the moral conflict that made them so special. By season seven, Tyrion Lannister, the egotistical, patricidal, prostitute loving, dwarf crippled by inherent tragedy has become the most moral man in Westeros. Void of any internal conflict, he exists purely as a rational progressive voice on the Queen’s Council only faltering when the plot calls for a contrived obstacle. The same type of homogenization has occurred across the cast; the Double Ds polarize the characters into obvious teams of good and bad for their eventual ultimate battle versus a practically faceless embodiment of pure evil. This contradicts the very foundation of Martin’s vision.
The second sin is the writer’s disrespect of logic within the universe. This past season, a plethora of illogical events occured, ranging from unearned character decisions to impossible events, to blatant contradictions of established “in world” rules. While I could rattle off a dozen examples of each—and if you don’t believe me, I urge you to contact me—the most insulting continuity error put to the screen was the writers’ handling of the capabilities of dragon glass. Dragon glass and Valyrian steel both have parallel magical properties due to dragon fire’s involvement in their creation.
Previously, it had been established Valyrian Steel could kill White Walkers—icy creatures which serve as the ultimate force of evil in the show’s plot—but not their zombie thralls, the wights—see the battle of Hardhome for reference. However, in season seven, all of a sudden both materials had the ability to kill wights. This information totally piloted the plot lines of over half the cast. This delegitimize months and months of fan theories built upon the former information. It also set a precedent of the Double Ds’ disregard for “in-world” rules.
In a medium fueled on fan speculation and discussion, these types of writing decisions give an air of “why bother” to the community; this corrupts the foundation of that which I have become so endeared.
So with Game Of Thrones tumbling towards a generic, contrived fantasy finale, I have some suggestions for the Double Ds. First, stick to the cannon: re-establish the rules and let the strong characters drive the plot rather than the plot drive the characters. The generic “Good versus Evil” finale can be remedied by pivoting to an “Order versus Chaos” finale. Game of Thrones has set up a world of men that is rife with sin; this chaos is a product of the unchecked freedom of the world’s inhabitants. Reveal that the White Walkers are a tool of the Children of the Forest—a hive-minded entity representing complete order in the absence of freedom. The final conflict between the two parties, instead of neglecting the sins of the characters, acknowledges human corruption as a product of the freedom enjoyed by man. This could still allow for a massive battle between man and monster that would appeal to the crowds, but paint it in a more nuanced context that would respect the vision of George R. R. Martin.