Just opening this prior to the Ned Reread so that pertinent comments can be added as needed.
ETA: Since we can't decide what we're doing with the Ned Reread and this is the next chapter in line, I'm going to pull over the first set of quotes...
Last Edit: Jul 23, 2016 3:13:42 GMT by Lady Dyanna
Why must I always be the isle of crazy alone in an ocean of sensibility? The should to everybody else’s shouldn’t? The I-will to their better-nots?
The visitors poured through the castle gates in a river of gold and silver and polished steel, three hundred strong, a pride of bannermen and knights, of sworn swords and freeriders. Over their heads a dozen golden banners whipped back and forth in the northern wind, emblazoned with the crowned stag of Baratheon.
Ned knew many of the riders. There came Ser Jaime Lannister with hair as bright as beaten gold, and there Sandor Clegane with his terrible burned face. The tall boy beside him could only be the crown prince, and that stunted little man behind them was surely the Imp, Tyrion Lannister
Yet the huge man at the head of the column, flanked by two knights in the snow-white cloaks of the Kingsguard, seemed almost a stranger to Ned … until he vaulted off the back of his warhorse with a familiar roar, and crushed him in a bone-crunching hug. “Ned! Ah, but it is good to see that frozen face of yours.” The king looked him over top to bottom, and laughed. “You have not changed at all.”
Why must I always be the isle of crazy alone in an ocean of sensibility? The should to everybody else’s shouldn’t? The I-will to their better-nots?
Overweight, unfit but still able to vault of his horse, this giant of a king!
Another bit of trivia:
Robert's queen, Cersei Lannister, entered on foot with her younger children. The wheelhouse in which they had ridden, a huge double-decked carriage of oiled oak and gilded metal pulled by forty heavy draft horses,...
here comes the queen!
The pillars holding up the crypt:
Flickering light touched the stones underfoot and brushed against a long procession of granite pillars that marched ahead, two by two, into the dark.
then
A Clash of Kings - Bran VII There stood Osha holding the torch, and Meera and Jojen and Hodor, and the double row of tall granite pillars and long dead lords behind them stretching away into darkness
and finally
A Dance with Dragons - The Turncloak He pushed the door open and led them out into a long vaulted tunnel, where mighty granite pillars marched two by two into blackness.
the pillars grow as the story progresses. So does the importance of what happens in the crypt, i suggest.
"Arya did not dare take a bath, even though she smelled as bad as Yoren by now, all sour and stinky. Some of the creatures living in her clothes had come all the way from Flea Bottom with her; it didn’t seem right to drown them."
Given that they will visit the crypts later in the chapter and see all the "frozen" kings of Winter and lords of WF, it is nice to show that Ned is already one of them.
the pillars grow as the story progresses. So does the importance of what happens in the crypt, i suggest.
This is interesting. I never really noticed them but before reading your remark and after having read the quotes I thought GRRM is using the pillars to show something about the characters and their mental state: Ned is lord of WF and this is his home crypts, so they are just pillars. Bran is a kid and a broken one at that. He sees the pillars as "tall" as opposed to his always low sitting position. Theon is in Stark's crypts, he is not supposed to be there and he is mentally broken too. Of course he is gonna see the last place holder of Stark power gigantic.
I thought GRRM is using the pillars to show something about the characters and their mental state:
beautifully said!
"Arya did not dare take a bath, even though she smelled as bad as Yoren by now, all sour and stinky. Some of the creatures living in her clothes had come all the way from Flea Bottom with her; it didn’t seem right to drown them."
Ned knew many of the riders. There came Ser Jaime Lannister with hair as bright as beaten gold, and there Sandor Clegane with his terrible burned face. The tall boy beside him could only be the crown prince, and that stunted little man behind them was surely the Imp, Tyrion Lannister
I find it interesting that these are the first four characters that Martin choses to introduce us to from the King's party. So far all of them seem to have had more impact on the story than King Robert.
Would that Ned had been able to say the same. Fifteen years past, when they had ridden forth to win a throne, the Lord of Storm’s End had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and muscled like a maiden’s fantasy. Six and a half feet tall, he towered over lesser men, and when he donned his armor and the great antlered helmet of his House, he became a veritable giant. He’d had a giant’s strength too, his weapon of choice a spiked iron warhammer that Ned could scarcely lift. In those days, the smell of leather and blood had clung to him like perfume.
Now it was perfume that clung to him like perfume, and he had a girth to match his height. Ned had last seen the king nine years before during Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion, when the stag and the direwolf had joined to end the pretensions of the self-proclaimed King of the Iron Islands. Since the night they had stood side by side in Greyjoy’s fallen stronghold, where Robert had accepted the rebel lord’s surrender and Ned had taken his son Theon as hostage and ward, the king had gained at least eight stone. A beard as coarse and black as iron wire covered his jaw to hide his double chin and the sag of the royal jowls, but nothing could hide his stomach or the dark circles under his eyes.
Yet Robert was Ned’s king now, and not just a friend, so he said only, “Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.”
Why must I always be the isle of crazy alone in an ocean of sensibility? The should to everybody else’s shouldn’t? The I-will to their better-nots?
I find it interesting that these are the first four characters that Martin choses to introduce us to from the King's party. So far all of them seem to have had more impact on the story than King Robert.
And they are also the ones Ned sees as unchanging. Unlike Robert--who has the power to shock Ned. Ned's made up his mind about the others--save perhaps Joff.
All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Oscar Wilde.
Fifteen years past, when they had ridden forth to win a throne, the Lord of Storm’s End had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and muscled like a maiden’s fantasy.
when he donned his armor and the great antlered helmet of his House, he became a veritable giant.
Embracing the imagery/animal of his house "makes" him a giant. But the Stark kids already have real direwolves, not just symbols or helmets. So, could they be stronger?
Yet Robert was Ned’s king now, and not just a friend, so he said only, “Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.”
Okay--"a Stark in Winterfell" is good. But a Stark that relinquishes Winterfell of all places even to the temporary control of a southern king--this really seems like the start of something bad.
All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Oscar Wilde.
Embracing the imagery/animal of his house "makes" him a giant. But the Stark kids already have real direwolves, not just symbols or helmets. So, could they be stronger?
Not only the heraldry of his house, but also sounds a lot the the green men to me. As for the Stark kids, they may be sronger, but I think to a cetain extent they were meant to work together.
Okay--"a Stark in Winterfell" is good. But a Stark that relinquishes Winterfell of all places even to the temporary control of a southern king--this really seems like the start of something bad.
Seems like time has proven that a pretty accurate instinct. From the very beginning it seems like the stag out played the direwolf, starting with momma in the snow.
Why must I always be the isle of crazy alone in an ocean of sensibility? The should to everybody else’s shouldn’t? The I-will to their better-nots?
Not only the heraldry of his house, but also sounds a lot the the green men to me.
And, of course, Garth. One of the ancient Hightowers insisted that Garth painted the formerly green Red Mountains red with the blood of the Dornish. A god of war and destruction, despite the "green hand."
Robert, too, can be dangerously warlike. Or over-run by the scent of garden grown flowers.
Seems like time has proven that a pretty accurate instinct. From the very beginning it seems like the stag out played the direwolf, starting with momma in the snow.
Not sure about "out played"--one way or another, both end up dead.
All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Oscar Wilde.
Not sure about "out played"--one way or another, both end up dead.
Not if Lyanna really was in the Vale right before her "abduction" with Robert. Keeps him in the game as Jon's daddy... Plus you still have Genry, Edric and Mya running around somewhere...
Why must I always be the isle of crazy alone in an ocean of sensibility? The should to everybody else’s shouldn’t? The I-will to their better-nots?
But a Stark that relinquishes Winterfell of all places even to the temporary control of a southern king--this really seems like the start of something bad.
yes, although that something started a while ago when Torrhen Stark bent his knee for the first time. Did Ned have any choice though? could he refuse his king?
Would that Ned had been able to say the same. Fifteen years past, when they had ridden forth to win a throne, the Lord of Storm’s End had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and muscled like a maiden’s fantasy. Six and a half feet tall, he towered over lesser men, and when he donned his armor and the great antlered helmet of his House, he became a veritable giant. He’d had a giant’s strength too, his weapon of choice a spiked iron warhammer that Ned could scarcely lift. In those days, the smell of leather and blood had clung to him like perfume.
i wonder which maiden had a fantasy for the smell of leather and blood?
"Arya did not dare take a bath, even though she smelled as bad as Yoren by now, all sour and stinky. Some of the creatures living in her clothes had come all the way from Flea Bottom with her; it didn’t seem right to drown them."
Not if Lyanna really was in the Vale right before her "abduction" with Robert. Keeps him in the game as Jon's daddy... Plus you still have Genry, Edric and Mya running around somewhere...
AHH! Sorry--I was just thinking of "Ned and Robert" as working off of each other--got it now.
yes, although that something started a while ago when Torrhen Stark bent his knee for the first time. Did Ned have any choice though? could he refuse his king?
Very true. Ned's yielding Winterfell is a continuation of that. And of the Starks having to deal with Alysanne when she came north.
Though I'm wondering if Ned's kneeling isn't more. . . heartfelt than those earlier examples. Ned loves Robert as a brother and serves him accordingly, even when he opposes Robert later on. This wolf is deeply entrenched with his brother Stag--and the result is bad.
i wonder which maiden had a fantasy for the smell of leather and blood?
Cersei? Though not a maiden.
All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Oscar Wilde.