Thursday, April 30, 2015

[Re-read] "Hear me Buzz"

All right, definitely time for a new chapter of my re-read of both books four and five in George R.R. Martin's obsession-inducing saga. I have combined them in the order suggested over at Boiled Leather which means that chapter five for me is the first Cersei Lannister-chapter. And boy does seeing that "Cersei" heading bring back memories of the first time I ate this door-stopper of a book.
[Be ye wary of spoilers; spoilers galore, from all over the saga.]

A youngish, but confident-looking Cersei (c) Fantasy Flight Games
Oh, before I get cracking I want to thank all of you for the comments you leave on the blog, it is appreciated - I just don't have the time to answer that much these days - but I do read them. All right, so back in the middle of the previous decade Feast was finally published and I was excited, doubly so because one of my favorite love-to-hate characters was getting her own chapters. Now, if you wonder how Cersei can be a favorite character, I understand - but I'm surely not the only one who enjoyed reading this femme fatale (as it were), who through manipulation and seduction usually got what she wanted (especially with her twin brother and lover, Ser Jaime); she was an intriguing character because she was gradually exposed to us through the viewpoints of a variety of characters - from Bran's surprise peek through the tower window to Tyrion Lannister standing there with a cup of wine as Cersei blamed him for murdering her son - his nephew. Our perception of her surely changed throughout the "original trilogy", but I always found her a fascinating character, and through the technique of seeing her through other characters' eyes, something of a mystery. This mystery, in turn, perhaps made Cersei Lannister a deeper and more complex character in our view than what Martin really had going - and this may just be why I was ever so slightly pretty much totally but just a little bit really somewhat okay mucho grande disappointed with her POV in A Feast for Crows upon my first, frenzied devouring of new material from Martin. MAN, did that wait for Feast hurt. I was pining. Little did I know I'd have to wait even longer for Dance, or that I'd still be doing the damn waiting game ten years . Anyway, with Cersei becoming a POV there was of course always an inherent danger in that she would be portrayed, finally, from an internal viewpoint, and though Martin does an excellent job with it, it was disappointing because Cersei turned out not be all that much of a mastermind manipulator after all - instead, she is driven by her maternal instincts (in some way, somehow...she might fail epically at motherhood, but she does have that drive, she is very protective of her brood), a prophecy we didn't know anything about until Feast (a prophecy that, unlike most prophecies in the series, feels very straightforward and shows us that at least Maggy the Frog was a fantastic clairvoyant - in a sense, for me anyway, Maggy seals the deal that prophecies do work in the setting; it's not just coincidence and self-fulfilling stuff; Maggy's prophecy is too particular in the details for that) - wow that was a long parenthesis, now I forgot what I was going on about. Oh, Cersei being a bit more shallow than expected. That's what you get for expecting stuff. I realize that her arc in Feast might have been accelerated because Martin needs to get somewhere with his story, but I do feel that she went from scheming, calculating bitch queen to batshit insane in too short a time for it to be entirely believable. The comparisons to a certain Mad King Aerys throughout Feast also has a man wondering. Again.
But I did say that Martin does an excellent job at characterizing her, and to be true to her POV; it's at times rather funny to read her chapters, and see things for what they are while Cersei doesn't. The unfortunate side effect is that this makes Cersei come across as rather dim, or unperceptive at least. In short, it screw with my perception of the character. And thus, the fair icy queen fell down the steps of my Ladder of Favorite Characters, even as I enjoyed her chapters more than most other chapters in Feast. That's a weird position to be in as a reader - I'm disappointed that Cersei turns out to be not all that much in terms of a player (she's a pawn), and that her character strokes are pretty broad and much simpler than the three preceding books hinted at (I mean, how blunt is Martin with Cersei's psyche when it comes to having been born a woman instead of a man?). Depth was lost, but a different kind of perspective was added, and it is fun to read about Cersei blundering from one political disaster to another, all the while not being aware of the damage she is causing. But it is not the Cersei of the three books. Never the less, I still have a signed "Cersei Lannister" card (from the collectible card game) displayed on my GRRM shelf downstairs. Sometimes I regret that I had Martin sign it; I took away at least half a second of time he could've spent on the books.
(I kid.)
And now! {da-da-DUM-DUM, da-da-DUM-DUM} the actual chapter, at last. Bewbs.

(If you didn't get that last slightly naughty reference, do yourself a favor and watch Honest Trailers' honest trailer for Game of Thrones - I had a good laugh, maybe you'll like it too - but most likely, you've already seen it, 21 million views, wow!)

Diane Kr├╝ger: Still how I envision Cersei. Sigh.
Allrightee, let's sharpen the senses and focus - we're going inside Cersei's head now, which is important to remember because of all the characters in the series, her perception of the world around her might be the most warped. Martin has played with unreliable narrators before, but here he really puts the pedal to the \m/ metal. \m/
And it begins in her subconscious, actually, which I think is a good choice when going into a new POV for the first time far into the story; we're immediately privy to thoughts so private she might forget them herself when waking up, because she's dreaming, and the dream immediately gives us insight into her actual state of mind - and thus, we can begin to relate to Cersei as a person more than the character "on the outside", the Cersei we've seen for three books through the eyes of (mostly) Tyrion and Jaime, her brothers.

So the chapter opens in her dreams, and it is a dream that shows us what else, besides motherhood and showing the world the worth of women, drives Cersei (okay, maybe she's not that shallow a character after all?) - it seems that she also aspires to keep ruling the kingdom; she dreams of power ("She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all"); she takes joy in seeing "great lords" and "proud ladies" kneeling before her (which tells us Cersei isn't driven to power for any noble reasons, rather selfish); bold young knights plead for her favors (this one has some fun psychological depth to it; Cersei is no longer the young hot queen she used to be - but in her dreams, the knights are young; this links to Cersei's growing suspicion and hate for Margaery Tyrell, and, of course, to the prophecy of Maggy the Frog). However, the dream turns sour when Tyrion appears, pointing and laughing at her (shaming her; and then she realizes she is naked - now that's some solid foreshadowing, on hindsight). When she tries to cover herself, the blades of the Iron Throne bite into her flesh - a very symbolic depiction. It might foreshadow her fall from power, it might suggest a link to House Targaryen, and of course it shows us another thing that's on Cersei's mind: her dwarf brother, Tyrion. As he continues to laugh and she gets swallowed up by the Iron Throne (consumed by power?) she awakes to a light touch on her shoulder. For all the negative criticism I have generously lavished upon A Feast for Crows, this dream at least is a vivid, rich description as solid as any dream described before it.

The owner of said hand is Senelle, a frightened maid; surrounding the two women are men in chainmail and cloaks. I like how Martin is vague in his descriptions here, as it reinforces the idea that Cersei has just stumbled out of dream, and is slightly confused and disoriented. It shows through the writing without him explicitly stating it (so far, anyway). She tells herself not to show any fear, and asks what they want of her. For a second she thinks it's Jaime (so he's also still on her mind, but it seems he has slipped down the ranking), but it is not him - however, the man who answers says that Jaime did send him to get her. Confused, she doesn't really hear what more the man has to say ("muttered about a privy and a crossbow") - again, well written. She reminds herself that there is nothing to fear - Tyrion is in the black cells, condemned to die today. Becoming more aware, she realizes that the dream was just a dream - but wonders if she had drunk too much wine the night before, which may be our first hint that she's laying on the wine a bit too much these days, as in the TV show. Ah, and the first mention of "valonqar", although the meaning will elude the first-time reader for a little while yet. Unless he or she has spoiled himself on the show. Bah. Senelle. Was she in A Storm of Swords? Man, I forget so easily. Quite confident this is a new (and a bit of a sudden) character.

Jocelyn Swift is trembling - Cersei realizes Senelle isn't the only one who is afraid. Ser Osmund Kettleblack looms over her, and Ser Boros Blount is present as correct as well, as is his lantern. She rises, slips a bedrobe to "hide her nakedness" (while this is not strictly foreshadowing, I do admire the little detail - not the nakedness in itself, although I do of course like nakedness - well, certain nakednesses at any rate - but that this, too, "echoes" (for lack of a better word) when you reach Cersei's last chapter in Dance (where she can't hide her nakedness). The truth is beginning to get through to her - her tongues feels thick so he takes another swallow of lemon water, sloshing it around in her mouth, telling the Lannister guardsmen and the Kingsguard that her lord father keeps guards about Tyrion night and day (however, the fact that her lord father is dead with his breeches down hasn't; it's as if she's postponing having to deal with those feelings, which is sublime writing indeed - I'm beginning to recall why I, despite certain elements, liked Cersei's chapters the best in Feast. I also enjoy the small details Martin sprinkles the chapter with, such as the moth that has gotten into Ser Boros' lantern, how it buzzes and beats against the glass. Did Martin go for symbolism here, or just something that came to him as he wrote, a random bit of dressing? Perhaps interestingly, the Navaho Indians associate moths with insanity "and a desire to jump into the fire" - wow, that's almost to kewl to be coincidental. Cersei's mental health certainly seems to be degrading, and that "jump into fire" part has me thinking of the torching of a certain tower and the similarities to Targaryen's obsessions with (wild)fire. Even better, on the same webpage, there's a reference to moths flying toward fire as a symbol for...self-destruction. That's Cersei, all right! She's not a lioness, but a moth!

Osmund Kettleblack explains that there was a hidden door found behind the hearth, and that Jaime has gone down to see where it leads. This panics Cersei, who wants Jaime to be with Tommen and guard him at all costs. Kettleblack explains that Jaime left Tommen with a dozen men, and that the king is sleeping "peaceful". Shouldn't that be peacefully, miss editor? Or is this Kettleblack's particular slang? When she hears that Loras Tyrell is with Tommen, she is displeased and we are given our first look into her feelings toward the House of the Roses (which, incidentally, is "growing strong"). She actually suspects the "night's foul fruit" to have been "planted and nurtured" in Highgarden which is our first solid sign that Cersei Lannister really doesn't have much of a clue. And here I thought for three books she had a certain political acumen.

And now we realize that Cersei has heard it - Tywin is dead - it's interesting, perhaps morbidly funny, how she thinks of her father's death in a pragmatic way, thinking of the consequences ("When the lions falls the lesser beasts move in (...)" and holding any feelings at arm's length. She immediately begins to think ahead, telling herself she needs to move quickly like she had when Robert died; she wonders if Stannis could be behind it as well, telling us that she isn't sold on the idea that Highgarden is behind it, but as we'll see, she will quickly begin to focus all her suspicions and hate on the Tyrells; which in one way is a little less interesting for us readers, as we know precisely what went down in the Tower of the Hand, and so can't speculate along with Cersei Lannister. It's the same trap that Martin fell into with Brienne's chapters in this book - she's looking for Sansa Stark and we already know where she is, so it kills the suspense. Still, Cersei is more fun to watch blunder about than Brienne, so there's that.

The sun is rising, painting the tower tops "a vivid red" (a red dawn indeed), and her thoughts become a little more personal - now she thinks that Tywin did not deserve to die alone (which is funny because he didn't; she's in for a surprise when she finds Shae next to her father in bed). She tells the guards outside not to let anyone enter or leave and congratulates herself on the steel in her voice, how easily she commands (that's funny too, as we'll witness, the rest of the world might not perceive her as she perceives herself). "I am the only true son he ever had," she thinks of herself as she enters the tower, and would you look at that, there's the moth again. "Die", she thinks "at it", "fly into the flame and be done with it." Now I'm convinced the moth represents Cersei self-destructing. Another bit of foreshadowing: She had half a mind to tear it down. Next she'll have whole a mind. Oh yes.

Have to love how she thinks of almost everyone as fools, the moth gets yet another mention, and she feels slighted for not having been called before all the people present. Before the bedchamber of the Hand stands Ser Meryn Trant. She tells him to clear everyone away. It's like a crime scene. He tells her Tywin has been carried to his bed. He opens the door for her - inside, her uncle Kevan is on his knees beside the bed, trying to pray, but not getting the words out. The secret door gapes open. Again she tells herself Stannis is behind this, or the Tyrells - though the secret door is perfectly sized for a dwarf. She is definitely postponing the truth here, she doesn't want Tyrion to have escaped, and this ties back to the prophecy of Maggy, of course, and her fear that Tyrion is the valonquar (and most certainly, misreading the prophecy and not keeping an eye on the other valonquar, Jaime).We're given a reminder of Maegor the Cruel's building of the Red Keep. She watches Tywin on the bed, thinks how changed he looks now, and orders the quarrel to be pulled out, feeling that her father shouldn't be seen like that - she does think very much like Tywin did, really: it was all about maintaining the facade, and now he can't do that anymore. She wants to scream, but instead her thoughts go to her grandfather, Tytos Lannister, and we're given more backstory. Say one thing about A Song of Ice and Fire, say it provides plenty backstory. Not sure if all of it is really necessary, but it does give depth, of course.

When she asks for Pycelle, she's told he's already been there and gone to summon the Silent Sisters. She realizes she is the last person to be sent for - it makes her angry. While probably not meant as very funny, I really have to chuckle at this bit:

"Where is my brother?"
"Down the tunnel. There's a shaft, with iron rungs set in stone. Ser Jaime went down to see how deep it goes."
He has only one hand, she wanted to shout at them.

Qyburn (c) Fantasy Flight Games
The frustration is palpable.  Right, here we get an opinion on Jaime, from the woman and sister he has loved unconditionally all his life - Jaime has always been too rash. Shortear (a guardsman) brings her Qyburn, who claims to be a maester. The man bows low and asks how he can serve her. I think she takes an immediately liking to the man based on that low bow; as the dream showed us, she's all about needing others to defer to her. His face is vaguely familiar but he needs to tell her his name and that he treated Jaime's hand stump before she remembers him - convenient for the slovenly reader. "The Citadel took my chain, but they could not take my knowledge," he says, and I love that line, perhaps particularly because it becomes more ominous on a re-read, because we know that he knows, well, a lot of dark stuff, right? She commands him to remove the quarrel from Tywin's belly and make him ready for the Silent Sisters - then he asks what to do about the girl, and she's like whaaat?

Somehow, Cersei has overlooked a second body, right beside her father's. Sorry, I find that hard to believe, no matter her state of mind (which varies wildly throughout the chapter, from sleepy, to angry, to grieving, to.. well, she's mostly angry); the girl is naked, cold and pink save for the face which has turned as black as Joffrey's during the wedding feast (strangled, that is). Gotta love how Cersei hisses like an angry cat (although it's a weird description considering we're in her POV; would she think of herself as hissing like an angry cat and not a lioness?); a chain of linked golden hands is buried in the flesh of Shae's (the funny whore) throat - and again, with hindsight, this becomes a more ominous moment than it is when you read it for the first time (again, the prophecy). Mmm, I'm finding myself enjoying this chapter (for its narrative devices) more than I thought I should. Even when said devices are based on that prophecy I so dislike. She can't believe her father would do such a thing (as bedding with whores); after her mother died, Tywin "never touched a woman". Fumbling to try and explain it all away, she begins to blabber about how Tywin, upon returning to Casterly Rock and finding a whore in his father's bed had paraded her naked through the streets of Lannisport (and yet another foreshadowing - wow, Cersei's march in Dance was really heavily telegraphed, folks) - Qyburn, sly weasel that he is, tells her that maybe "his lordship" was questioning the girl about Sansa Stark (who was Shae's "mistress"), ingratiating himself with Cersei from the get-go, it seems - and he does well, for she seizes the suggestion eagerly, wanting, needing, another explanation for Shae in her father's bed. It becomes too much for Cersei, and she pushes past Qyburn and out in the hall for a breather.  Wow, Martin really knew where he was going with Cersei's plot, at least.

Osmund Kettleblack, sorry, Ser Osmund, has been joined by his two brothers, Osney and Osfryd (kind of weird how it seems that King's Landing has been...replenished...with new characters to replace others who are either dead, or gone away...yet also very satisfactory in the sense that it makes the setting feel more alive; not static). She tells them to remove Shae and that no one is ever to know she was there. Trying to preserve the facade, in other words. Nice detail: Ser Osney has scratches on his cheek from "another of Tyrion's whores" - also the irony that Tyrion stayed true to one woman - Shae, in fact - while Tywin didn't. That's just rich. Lannister-rich. Another piece of chuckle-worthy dialogue:

"And what shall we do with her?"
"Feed her to your dogs. Keep her for a bedmate. What do I care?" 

She watches as the Kettleblacks (can't get over that name) bundle Shae up. She remembers when last she spoke to her - the night before the trial where the Red Viper truly lived up to the first part of his nickname - and we get confirmation that Cersei indeed promised Shae a manse in the city and a knight to marry, as well, but to reveal Sansa's whereabouts. Of course, later Cersei had used the same bait to make Shae make her false confession. Before they take Shae's body away, she tells them she wants the chain, and that they must make sure not to scratch the gold. Another tie to the prophecy? Is she going to hide away that chain so no one can use it to strangle her? Curious...

Right, and so everybody's favorite Jaime comes crawling up the shaft through the secret door, "like an old woman" (I chuckled again - but it's also kind of sad to see how little Cersei seems to think of him, considering his devotion to her - yes, it's fading but, boy, for a good chunk of the books Jaime's main drive is to get back to her). Immediately she pelts him with questions he can't hope to have satisfactory answers to. She tells him to take the hammers to the walls and knock it all down, imagining Tyrion creeping around somewhere inside. Jaime hugs her. He is so starved for her affection. He smells of ash, and she does, after all, want to draw him close and kiss him, but she tells herself she can't do that (obviously, they are not alone). She tells him he must take father's place as the Hand of the King - it would really be their dream come true, wouldn't it? The two of them, the golden beacons as it were, ruling together as Queen Regent and Lord Hand, and secretly sexing and stuff. Of course, knowing Martin, there's no such thing as people getting what they want (or deserve, for that matter). "A Hand without a hand?" Jaime asks, forcing the stump into her face (I chuckled). Kevan and Qyburn and Kettleblack all overhear them, as Cersei notes - even the guardsmen, whom she knows all the names of, for some reason (Puckens, Hoke the Horse-leg, Shortear)  - and she realizes this will be all over the castle by nightfall, so she tells him that she will rule until Tommen is of age, insinuating that she thinks Jaime is stupid for thinking she meant him to rule Westeros (as Hand). That is of course better. Better to have people talk about Cersei being strong, meaning to rule. But it is shattered right away by Jaime who just doesn't give any fucks (I love him for that): "I don't know who I pity more, Tommen, or the Seven Kingdoms." 
The two just can't find back that magic from old, can they? Every time they meet these days they begin to bicker. Because they have changed. Because the world around them changes. That's great writing. And so she retorts to the only thing she has left, and which she also used on several occassions on Tyrion - the bitch-slap. Jaime tries to parry, but he has no right hand, so she hits. Lols.

Kevan is the one to interrupt: "Your father lies here dead. Have the decency to take your quarrel outside." Say one thing about the golden twins, nuncle, say that decency isn't one of their virtues. However, Jaime is the one to apologize; but the way he does it naturally makes Cersei even angrier than she already was. He tries to excuse her, saying she forget herself - and another chuckle is to be had. She wants to slap him again for it - and she thinks she must "have been mad" to think he could be Hand (another, this time more subtle, hint at her descent into madness). She thinks how she's never had much use of Hands - Jon Arryn, who had begin sniffing about her and Jaime, Eddard Stark who continued that detective work and eventually found out, and then of course Tyrion who "sold" her daughter to Dorne, and when her own father took up the mantle/chain of office, he was planning to wed her and send her back to Casterly Rock. That's right,  Queen Regent, you better abolish the title, or find someone you can contorl...which is what she initially thinks, too; but she thinks of Ser Kevan as the best choice, which is wrong, of course - yes, he is tireless, prudent, and obedient - but that was to his older brother, Tywin. She also tells herself to be careful with Lord Mace Tyrell - the irony here (there's a lot of irony in Cersei's chapters, better get used to it - personally, I love it) is that Mace would be much more easy for her to control, as we know, he's basically a figurehead for the women of his House, precisely someone Cersei would manipulate with ease). Right, now let's wrap this thing up, Mr. Martin - my left hand is beginning to prickle from all this writing (admittedly, I've written tons of stuff this week which might be contributing - tons of stuff that never will be read by anybody, which is sad in a way, but hey, I can't just give up all the secrets of my role-playing game setting, right? Oh well, maybe, one day I'll find the drive to actually write a novel based on my stuff, like Steven Erikson and Ian C. Esslemont did with their far, I've used bits and pieces very sparingly in SFF World short story and flash fiction competitions - yup, I'm still doing those, although I haven't uploaded any stories for a good while on this blog's sister blog). Right, where was I? Oh, right. In the Tower of the Hand, with a distressed, distraught, frustrated, angry, Cersei. So far, I like the writing, though increasingly I'm sad to see her turning into a bumbling goose rather than the shrewd seductress she used to be (although I have to praise George for making her more three-dimensional when it comes to her becoming older, makes her more real; before Thrones and a few others, fantasy characters tended to stay the same throughout, didn't they).

She is still furious that Tywin had arranged for Tommen to become betrothed to Margaery (it was kind of soon after her husband, Tommen's brother, for the Seven's sake, died - and to think that before that, she lost Renly - looks like Margaery's story is one of losing husbands fast) and we learn for the first time that Cersei doubts Margaery's virginity, which will become an important plot point - the doubts, rather than the virginity itself)...

...and finally she remembers Lord Varys, who should be in the Tower, as he always appears on the scene where anything important happens. Counting off Jaime, Kevan, Pycelle, a cold finger "touched her spine", and she immediately leaps to the conclusion that Varys must have been a part of it; she thinks Varys must have feared execution, because Tywin didn't like him. Yup, that's her reasoning. She goes on to think he might have allied himself with Stannis. Yes, rub it in, George - Cersei wasn't as clever as I believed her to be. You had me fooled. ENjoy. Grumble. I loved Clever Cersei. Paranoid Cersei is funny, but not as intriguing or seducing a character. She orders Ser Meryn Trant to find Varys - why isn't she suspicious of him, while she's at it?

He leaves, and Ser Boros comes back, red-faced and puffing. Panting, he tells her the Imp's cell is open (and, not so subtly perhaps, Martin is telling us that perhaps Boros isn't quite fit enough to be a Kingsguard anymore, but does Cersei see it?) The gaoler Rugen is gone, too, Boros explains, and though the text doesn't explicitly state it (or did it? I forget), we can be reasonably sure that R+L=J, and Ru = V. He is in the walls, Cersei thinks of Tyrion, and while the link is paper-thin I can't help but think of Lovecraft. And boy did Lovecraft turn out to be a major inspiration in The World of Ice and Fire. Not so much inspiration as a place to directly take stuff from, if you ask me. She tells Boros to have Tyrion's cell guards, who are sleeping, to sleep forever. That's pretty harsh. She really doesn't care much about the lives of people. In that sense, she is pretty much, to use D&D lingo, of chaotic evil alignment. A bit random, haphazard, unsympathetic, wild, crazy. You can use a lot of words for Cersei. But I'm still reasonably sure she came across as "coldly manipulative, seductive, dangerous, and intelligent" in the first three books. Boy, does this book shatter my preconceived notions of Cersei fricking Lannister. In the house!

And finally the chapter comes to a close (and I'm saying finally because my fingers hurt, not because I found this a particularly long or boring chapter - quite the opposite, it has the pacing and trappings of a solid Ice and Fire-chapter, one that wouldn't feel out of place in the book before it, so to speak), with the torches spinning around her (in other words, a dizzy spell, let's try to remember that -- yeah right, I'm so going to forget it, but still...wasn't there something about Cersei possibly being pregnant? Pregnant ladies often get dizzy, but of course, in this instance, it is more than believable with all that she's gone through in this chapter alone, that she's losing it for a bit). No, she thinks, I was almost rid of you, thinking of Tyrion of course, and she can almost feel his fingers closing around her neck, tightening..

...and the funny thing is we still don't know, chronologically speaking, of the valonqar prophecy, so this works on two levels, which is good. I can still pretend she doesn't need the prophecy to feel this way; it's satisfying enough that she has this reckless hatred for Tyrion, and now that she believes him to have killed her father and his lover, which is pretty extreme in itself, it is no wonder she begins to fear him as this murderer lurking in the walls; feel free to disagree or agree in the comments. For now, I'm going offline for a few hours to hang out in reality, a place I've been shunning for the last couple of weeks, I have to admit.

Yay, next up is Tyrion's first Dance chapter. It already feels like a more proper order - because this chapter really had him haunting almost every sentence, so I suspect the flow will be more smooth when next we catch up with Tyrion (instead of getting Brienne, and a five year long wait for that Tyrion chapter). Also, perhaps the contrast between Cersei's exaggerated fears for Tyrion will be more prominent when we see that he's a drunken wreck on the other side of the Narrow Sea.

Interesting times! So far, it seems that this re-read is doing more good than bad in terms of me coming to grips with the actual storylines (as opposed to what I wanted or expected all those years of waiting).

Have an awesome week and I'll try to be back with that Tyrion chapter next week (so that I can wish you another awesome week right after the coming week, and by doing so create a chain of awesomeness for you all, and maybe all that positive energy is transformed into a sudden, joyous, jubilant message on Not a Blog about a certain book being finished. Oh man. That would be good.)

1 comment:

  1. Honestly, Lysa being Arryn's killer pretty much proved that Cersei wasn't anywhere near as cunning as you first think. I mean, Robert's death is very slapdash, and Clash shows that she's no match for Tyrion. Ripping out tongues for repeating the incest tale, really smart. And killing all the bastards AFTER Ned's death, instead of the second he gives himself away... Just shows how much she panics and reacts rather than plans, IMO.