“Your mother was brave, at least. Lift off the bars.” And how would Lysa know how Cat went bravely to her death??
Wow. I completely missed that.
You're right. . . just how much did Lysa know about all of that?
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.
So, for Ashara--was Arthur the savior in this case? Ned comes after her and she's already dead?
Seems like there's some tie into Arthur as her true knight. Not sure that she's dead before Ned gets there but it certainly sounds like she's well on the road to that. After this scene with Lysa I tend to question the conventional wisdom of peurperal fever. Anything is possible, but this is starting to sound less and less like a case of death from childbirth and more and more complicated.
One other potential connection: Ned only brings back the horse to Barbrey, not the man. And her reaction is NOT happy despite her being northerner and wife and daughter of Stark banner men. Ned only brings back Arthur's sword to the Daynes, after killing Arthur--an enemy. But the Daynes not only let him leave, they nickname their heir after him???? No--Ned's tie to Starfall has to be a lot stronger than the sword.
It would certainly seem so, wouldn't it. I guess it's possible that Ned Dayne's nickname has absolutely nothing to do with Ned Stark, but he does go awfully far out of his way to connect with the Starks.
A crescent moon--the sickle moon. Tied to the weir wood and the bronze fastenings--this really is a trace of a sacrificial space. Was recently saying to sweetsunray that Sansa's description of the Giant's Lance, covered in snow with the frozen, weeping tears of the waterfall, seem to have echoes of the Wall. Really seems like the Vale has one too many traces for the symbolism not to mean anything.
The Vale feels like a symbolic representation of everything other than the Vale. Certain scenes are very reminiscent of the wall and further North, I agree. At times, I also wonder if there aren't also some Dornish traces, especially echoing Starfall and the time surrounding Robert's Rebellion.
And how would Lysa know how Cat went bravely to her death??
Well, that seems like something that Petyr Littlefinger would be more than happy to share with her. He was still in Kings Landing when it occurred so I'd imagine that he'd have been informed of the details.
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?
If I do as she says, she will let me go . Sansa grabbed one of the bronze bars, yanked it loose, and tossed it down. The second bar clattered to the marble, then the third. She had barely touched the latch when the heavy wooden door flew inward and slammed back against the wall with a bang. Snow had piled up around the frame, and it all came blowing in at them, borne on a blast of cold air that left Sansa shivering. She tried to step backward, but her aunt was behind her. Lysa seized her by the wrist and put her other hand between her shoulder blades, propelling her forcefully toward the open door. Beyond was white sky, falling snow, and nothing else. “Look down,” said Lady Lysa. “Look down.”
She tried to wrench free, but her aunt’s fingers were digging into her arm like claws. Lysa gave her another shove, and Sansa shrieked. Her left foot broke through a crust of snow and knocked it loose. There was nothing in front of her but empty air, and a waycastle six hundred feet below clinging to the side of the mountain. “Don’t!” Sansa screamed. “You’re scaring me!” Behind her, Marillion was still playing his woodharp and singing, “Hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey.”“Do you still want my leave to go? Do you?”
“No.”Sansa planted her feet and tried to squirm backward, but her aunt did not budge. “Not this way. Please …”She put a hand up, her fingers scrabbling at the doorframe, but she could not get a grip, and her feet were sliding on the wet marble floor. Lady Lysa pressed her forward inexorably. Her aunt outweighed her by three stone. “The lady lay a-kissing, upon a mound of hay,”Marillion was singing. Sansa twisted sideways, hysterical with fear, and one foot slipped out over the void. She screamed. “Hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey.”The wind flapped her skirts up and bit at her bare legs with cold teeth. She could feel snowflakes melting on her cheeks. Sansa flailed, found Lysa’s thick auburn braid, and clutched it tight. “My hair!”her aunt shrieked. “Let go of my hair!”She was shaking, sobbing. They teetered on the edge. Far off, she heard the guards pounding on the door with their spears, demanding to be let in. Marillion broke off his song.
If I do as she says, she will let me go. Sansa grabbed one of the bronze bars, yanked it loose, and tossed it down. The second bar clattered to the marble, then the third. She had barely touched the latch when the heavy wooden door flew inward and slammed back against the wall with a bang. Snow had piled up around the frame, and it all came blowing in at them, borne on a blast of cold air that left Sansa shivering. She tried to step backward, but her aunt was behind her. Lysa seized her by the wrist and put her other hand between her shoulder blades, propelling her forcefully toward the open door. Beyond was white sky, falling snow, and nothing else. “Look down,” said Lady Lysa. “Look down.”
With a reasonable person that might be a good thing, Sansa, but I'm not sure that Aunt Lysa has any reasonable intent right about now. Again there's the number three, this time three bars holding the door.
She tried to wrench free, but her aunt’s fingers were digging into her arm like claws. Lysa gave her another shove, and Sansa shrieked. Her left foot broke through a crust of snow and knocked it loose. There was nothing in front of her but empty air, and a waycastle six hundred feet below clinging to the side of the mountain. “Don’t!” Sansa screamed. “You’re scaring me!” Behind her, Marillion was still playing his woodharp and singing, “Hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey.”“Do you still want my leave to go? Do you?”
Is Lysa crazy enough to follow through? I think that she just might be.
“No.”Sansa planted her feet and tried to squirm backward, but her aunt did not budge. “Not this way. Please …”She put a hand up, her fingers scrabbling at the doorframe, but she could not get a grip, and her feet were sliding on the wet marble floor. Lady Lysa pressed her forward inexorably. Her aunt outweighed her by three stone. “The lady lay a-kissing, upon a mound of hay,”Marillion was singing. Sansa twisted sideways, hysterical with fear, and one foot slipped out over the void. She screamed. “Hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey.”The wind flapped her skirts up and bit at her bare legs with cold teeth. She could feel snowflakes melting on her cheeks. Sansa flailed, found Lysa’s thick auburn braid, and clutched it tight. “My hair!”her aunt shrieked. “Let go of my hair!”She was shaking, sobbing. They teetered on the edge. Far off, she heard a guards pounding on the door with their spears, demanding to be let in. Marillion broke off his song.
Saved by the braid. Certainly doesn't appear as if Marillion had any interest in stopping Lysa. At least he finally stops singing.
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?
You hit on it right there with Sansa's manners. I think her rooting in the rituals of always doing and saying and doing what the demands of courtesy dictate, her courtly manners and the whole special pact of guest-right are mixed in here. Her actions, singing when asked to, behaving always like a lady, is what gives her the Seidr distinction. These are her rituals, they are not wholly understood by her as a ritual but they end up being so.
Sansa has always been taught that a lady's armor is her courtesy. In a way Sandor is right that she sounds like a pretty little parrot, but it is when she falls back on this instinct and arms herself in her manners that she is most protected from danger even though she herself might not realize it. I find it interesting that you have included guest right here. It makes sense, it's the same type of ritual and made to protect both host and guest, just never thought of it that way. I think that you get the idea right, especially when you mention Dontos further on. She protects him and his guest right from Joffrey and later he is able to help protect her. I will have to keep my mind open to similar occurrences. And actually, come to think of it, Sandor helping Arya and being a protector to her might just be something that Sansa set into motion as well.
What struck me was that we have Bran in the Night Fort talking about the Rat King and how he was punished because he broke guest-right. Now if the pact or tacit understanding of what's involved with guest-right is magical, then it would also work in the opposite direction. If there is a punishment for breaking it, then there must be a reward for keeping it. Sansa is always keeping up her end of the bargain, to her detriment at times, so there must be some magical turn around. She can possibly be protected by the bond or pact or whatever it is that governs guest-rights since she's the model guest.
Could it be that those whose guest right she upholds are just now more tied to her or have reason to be grateful towards her and in turn extend protection to her.
Yes, I was thinking along those lines as well. The clue I think is in Small Paul. Where did the sword go? It was in him when he died and the dragonglass did not go near it, so is it possible that another Other came along and removed the sword? Just because he's swordless on the reencounter with Sam, does not mean that the sword melted. Just that it's no longer in him. Interesting to think that the NK's sword was taken from him, and in doing so he lost power, not just being ousted, but magical loss as well.
I think that the simplest explanation is that whatever magic binds the ww together also binds their weapons to them. If that spell is broken, the connection to the weapon is broken as well, allowing it to melt away just the same as the ww.
Good catch. I think you're on to something with that. Lady could represent the Wolfblood aspect of Lyanna. Ned says the wolfblood is what got Lya and Brandon killed, so if Lady, who literally had wolf blood, is killed and sent home, then Sansa becomes the cleansed, or purified Wolf Maid, without the danger of getting herself killed with the taint (blessing?) of the wolfblood.
This then opens her up to be a different kind of Maid. Where the magical significance of wolfblood is replaced by another magical connection. I think she expresses that connection to the magical or unseen flow that connects and binds the inhabitants of Westeros in this chapter quite clearly this time.
I need to think about this, but so far I'm really liking it!
I've hads a bit of rethink on this and I've been seeing Sansa protected even from Joff and Cersei with the ritual/seidr aspect. Throughout all the horrible stuff that happens to her at their hands, Sansa remains rooted to doing the right thing and behaving well and finding compassion for things she's afraid of. Her spontaneous saving of Dontos is, I think, something more than just a plot devise. She was almost in a trance during the tourney and suddenly she breaks out of it and helps the very man that will liberate her. Now I know LF devised all that, but it was Sansa's action that put it all into motion. Just like in this chapter, LF takes advantage, but it's Sansa's actions that put things into motion. And her actions are born or rooting in her ritual of always being the perfect lady.
Exactly! And it's when she pretends to be that perfect Lady that little can touch her. She's actually more pleasing to Joff and Cersei and gives them less reason to harm her. Plus she's able to soothe others like Sandor through her courtesy changing his future reactions.
Sansa chooses decorum, she will not even in private allow her image to be tarnished. She will walk to her death if need be. Better to die than break the spell of decorum.
Sansa plants her feet and I can imagine she probably stood up straight too because that's what people do when they come to a full stop after being dragged. She's not allowing her aunt to go any further but she's not making a fuss about it, she's still keeping up appearances.
Here, with her tugging to be released, I think she's not only trying to break free, she's also correcting her aunt's behaviour.
Two things stand out here for me. Sansa was bold enough in the snow. Why? It has to be the connection that not having the wolfblood is being fill with a different kind of magical/mystic connection to the north where guest-rights have power over the First Men that she's connecting to.
We've also speculated that the snow is her literal memory of the past and in particular her family, home and Stark-ness from which she draws strength.
The words to Marillion's song are interesting. The Lady sat sewing on a rainy(snowy) day. Sounds familiar doesn't it? Like when Arya ran off because her stitches were crooked and the Septa made fun of her. Sansa's stitches were perfect. Myrcella's were bad too, but Jeyne's were good. So many echoes in that one line that I can't keep up! Sansa's perfect stitches protected her from embarrassement in front of the princess. Sansa's perfect manners end up protecting her from being flung out of the room, as Arya flung herself out of the room because her stitches were wrong.
Nice connections.
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?
It would certainly seem so, wouldn't it. I guess it's possible that Ned Dayne's nickname has absolutely nothing to do with Ned Stark, but he does go awfully far out of his way to connect with the Starks.
Yes--managed to get myself into an argument on this subject as well.
Far as I can see, Edric's brought up only to hint at connections between Starks and Daynes. The first time his name is mentioned (he's squiring for Beric in the fight with the Hound), Arya gets goosebumps at the sound of "Ned." Not subtle. Then she sees him in a battle and gets jealous that she can't be in in. Then that long conversation. And that's it. So, either that's his purpose, or Martin's spent a big chunk of a page on nothing. Even though that nothing echoes other things. . .
The Vale feels like a symbolic representation of everything other than the Vale. Certain scenes are very reminiscent of the wall and further North, I agree. At times, I also wonder if there aren't also some Dornish traces, especially echoing Starfall and the time surrounding Robert's Rebellion.
HA! You're instincts are right again--the World Book compares the people in the Wide Way with the clans of the Vale.
Good catch. I think you're on to something with that. Lady could represent the Wolfblood aspect of Lyanna. Ned says the wolfblood is what got Lya and Brandon killed, so if Lady, who literally had wolf blood, is killed and sent home, then Sansa becomes the cleansed, or purified Wolf Maid, without the danger of getting herself killed with the taint (blessing?) of the wolfblood.
This then opens her up to be a different kind of Maid. Where the magical significance of wolfblood is replaced by another magical connection. I think she expresses that connection to the magical or unseen flow that connects and binds the inhabitants of Westeros in this chapter quite clearly this time.
Agreed. Though I do think she has some wolf in her. Just not "living."
And yes--she has some of that mystical "knowing" thing going She's had traces of that for a while. Now, can she finally see Littlefinger for what he is?
I've hads a bit of rethink on this and I've been seeing Sansa protected even from Joff and Cersei with the ritual/seidr aspect. Throughout all the horrible stuff that happens to her at their hands, Sansa remains rooted to doing the right thing and behaving well and finding compassion for things she's afraid of. Her spontaneous saving of Dontos is, I think, something more than just a plot devise. She was almost in a trance during the tourney and suddenly she breaks out of it and helps the very man that will liberate her. Now I know LF devised all that, but it was Sansa's action that put it all into motion. Just like in this chapter, LF takes advantage, but it's Sansa's actions that put things into motion. And her actions are born or rooting in her ritual of always being the perfect lady.
Nice--you're right. Acting in accordance with her "manners" and "station" does put some things in motion.
And Joff and Cersei pick and push at her. Off beats her. But he can't move her from who/what she is. Only convinces her that she's right about him. And right to continue as she is. In her rituals of courtesy.
Though she breaks rituals of courtesy in the castle scene--throwing part of the snow-broken tower at Petyr. And calling him out for his lying to her about where they were going. Oddly, that break doesn't stop him from taking advantage. Though her courtesies don't stop her form pushing him away. . . the connection between courtesy and wolfy territorialism. . .need to give that a think.
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.
Ok today I must be more lucid than my last reply to this because it suddenly makes sense...kind of.
You hit on it right there with Sansa's manners. I think her rooting in the rituals of always doing and saying and doing what the demands of courtesy dictate, her courtly manners and the whole special pact of guest-right are mixed in here. Her actions, singing when asked to, behaving always like a lady, is what gives her the Seidr distinction. These are her rituals, they are not wholly understood by her as a ritual but they end up being so.
What struck me was that we have Bran in the Night Fort talking about the Rat King and how he was punished because he broke guest-right. Now if the pact or tacit understanding of what's involved with guest-right is magical, then it would also work in the opposite direction. If there is a punishment for breaking it, then there must be a reward for keeping it. Sansa is always keeping up her end of the bargain, to her detriment at times, so there must be some magical turn around. She can possibly be protected by the bond or pact or whatever it is that governs guest-rights since she's the model guest.
Hope I expressed that right, because like you, I think you all understand what I'm trying to say better than I do.
Okay, I'm liking where you and Lady Dyanna are going with this.
The idea that following the old codes has power. Not invincibility, but power. "Our ways are the old ways." They keep us safe. Keep those around us safe (Sansa's saving Dontos, Sansa's singing to and calming the Hound--by singing a song connected to religious ritual).
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.
If I do as she says, she will let me go. Sansa grabbed one of the bronze bars, yanked it loose, and tossed it down. The second bar clattered to the marble, then the third. She had barely touched the latch when the heavy wooden door flew inward and slammed back against the wall with a bang. Snow had piled up around the frame, and it all came blowing in at them, borne on a blast of cold air that left Sansa shivering. She tried to step backward, but her aunt was behind her. Lysa seized her by the wrist and put her other hand between her shoulder blades, propelling her forcefully toward the open door. Beyond was white sky, falling snow, and nothing else. “Look down,” said Lady Lysa. “Look down.”
With a reasonable person that might be a good thing, Sansa, but I'm not sure that Aunt Lysa has any reasonable intent right about now. Again there's the number three, this time three bars holding the door.
Yes--Sansa's reached the limits of the safety of courtesy. Or "do as they say and little harm will befall." Here's the ritualistic threshold. At a ritualistic door of weir wood.
And Sansa knows it's the limit. Refuses to keep "courtesies" at this line. Lisa's gone too far. Against her family. Against her guest. Coming up to this threshold is ultimately more dangerous for the woman who broke ancient codes than the courteous girl. Who kept her codes.
She tried to wrench free, but her aunt’s fingers were digging into her arm like claws. Lysa gave her another shove, and Sansa shrieked. Her left foot broke through a crust of snow and knocked it loose. There was nothing in front of her but empty air, and a waycastle six hundred feet below clinging to the side of the mountain. “Don’t!” Sansa screamed. “You’re scaring me!” Behind her, Marillion was still playing his woodharp and singing, “Hey-nonny, hey-nonny, hey-nonny-hey.”“Do you still want my leave to go? Do you?”
Human, civilized Lysa has become an animal through breaking guest right. And participating in kinslaying.
Nothing but empty air--no group to stand on if you cross this line, Lysa. You've already gone too far.
The Waycastle--it's a line of defense. But can't protect anyone from this violation.
Two things stand out here for me. Sansa was bold enough in the snow. Why? It has to be the connection that not having the wolfblood is being fill with a different kind of magical/mystic connection to the north where guest-rights have power over the First Men that she's connecting to.
She's back in her context when in the snow. In her place. Performing her rituals. In a representation of her home--and what are rituals if not representations of what is sacred and powerful? Power makes one bold.
The words to Marillion's song are interesting. The Lady sat sewing on a rainy(snowy) day. Sounds familiar doesn't it? Like when Arya ran off because her stitches were crooked and the Septa made fun of her. Sansa's stitches were perfect. Myrcella's were bad too, but Jeyne's were good. So many echoes in that one line that I can't keep up! Sansa's perfect stitches protected her from embarrassement in front of the princess. Sansa's perfect manners end up protecting her from being flung out of the room, as Arya flung herself out of the room because her stitches were wrong.
Nice. And a notice again that :Lady Lysa is no longer a Lady, but an animal with claws.
She could feel snowflakes melting on her cheeks. Sansa flailed, found Lysa’s thick auburn braid, and clutched it tight. “My hair!”her aunt shrieked. “Let go of my hair!”She was shaking, sobbing. They teetered on the edge. Far off, she heard a guards pounding on the door with their spears, demanding to be let in. Marillion broke off his song.
Okay--this is probably too cute with the associations, but after protesting and saying "no" and flailing, Sansa only finds Lysa's braid after she feels the snowflakes melt on her cheeks. As she feels the snow giving her lover's kisses in the garden. Only finds the braid after the snowflakes. So--snow= power?
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.
SlyWren and Lady Dyanna I've got a lot of work to do for school in the next 2 weeks(last 2 weeks of school w/ finals on the second week) so I'll have to get back to you on this. I've been skimming and lurking (if I allow myself to log in too much, I'll not get a jot of work done) and I've got a lot to say but no time to say it, so please forgive me. I'll do my best to answer as soon as I'm free to do so.
Take your time. We're not going anywhere. We've been working on this chapter since September and we're not done yet. Good luck with your assignments and finals and we'll see you soon! Lots to get done for the holidays here too. I'm still not moving as fast as I'd like either.
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?
Yes--managed to get myself into an argument on this subject as well.
Yeah, I saw that. Between that and your TOJ progression argument, you've been pretty busy lately. You made some pretty good points. Sorry not to help you out, but some of those guys scare me! ::freakout::
Far as I can see, Edric's brought up only to hint at connections between Starks and Daynes. The first time his name is mentioned (he's squiring for Beric in the fight with the Hound), Arya gets goosebumps at the sound of "Ned." Not subtle. Then she sees him in a battle and gets jealous that she can't be in in. Then that long conversation. And that's it. So, either that's his purpose, or Martin's spent a big chunk of a page on nothing. Even though that nothing echoes other things. . .
As far as I can tell/remember this assessment sounds about right. He's either meant to be a link to the past or he has a bigger role coming in the future.
HA! You're instincts are right again--the World Book compares the people in the Wide Way with the clans of the Vale.
Now if only I could actually interpret what in God's green earth it actually means. I'm starting to feel like a human metal detector. I beep when something seems to fit a pattern, but then have no idea what to do with it. Ugh. ::hairpull::
Yes--Sansa's reached the limits of the safety of courtesy. Or "do as they say and little harm will befall." Here's the ritualistic threshold. At a ritualistic door of weir wood.
And Sansa knows it's the limit. Refuses to keep "courtesies" at this line. Lisa's gone too far. Against her family. Against her guest. Coming up to this threshold is ultimately more dangerous for the woman who broke ancient codes than the courteous girl. Who kept her codes.
“Lysa! What’s the meaning of this?” The shout cut through the sobs and heavy breathing. Footsteps echoed down the High Hall. “Get back from there! Lysa, what are you doing?” The guards were still beating at the door; Littlefinger had come in the back way, through the lords’ entrance behind the dais.
As Lysa turned, her grip loosened enough for Sansa to rip free. She stumbled to her knees, where Petyr Baelish saw her. He stopped suddenly. “Alayne. What is the trouble here?”
“Her.” Lady Lysa grabbed a handful of Sansa’s hair. “She’s the trouble. She kissed you.”
“Tell her,” Sansa begged. “Tell her we were just building a castle …”
Last Edit: Dec 11, 2015 4:41:10 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?
“Lysa! What’s the meaning of this?” The shout cut through the sobs and heavy breathing. Footsteps echoed down the High Hall. “Get back from there! Lysa, what are you doing?” The guards were still beating at the door; Littlefinger had come in the back way, through the lords’ entrance behind the dais.
Did Lysa forget that Petyr was there and could get in this way or did she stage this scene for him? A test of his devotion? Has Littlefinger been watching this unfold only to interrupt at the most opportune moment? Does he realize that Sansa is there?
As Lysa turned, her grip loosened enough for Sansa to rip free. She stumbled to her knees, where Petyr Baelish saw her. He stopped suddenly. “Alayne. What is the trouble here?”
He does seem surprised that Sansa is there, maybe.
“Her.” Lady Lysa grabbed a handful of Sansa’s hair. “She’s the trouble. She kissed you.”
Guess you never thought to blame the lecherous ass you call husband for his own actions, huh, Lysa?
“Tell her,” Sansa begged. “Tell her we were just building a castle…”
Sounds like building a castle is becoming increasingly dangerous these days. Especially when Littlefinger is involved in it.
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?
Yeah, I saw that. Between that and your TOJ progression argument, you've been pretty busy lately. You made some pretty good points. Sorry not to help you out, but some of those guys scare me!
I may give in to the spinning thoughts in my brain via rushed posts in-between moments at work. But I never expect anyone to join in just to back me up. No worries.
Now if only I could actually interpret what in God's green earth it actually means. I'm starting to feel like a human metal detector. I beep when something seems to fit a pattern, but then have no idea what to do with it. Ugh.
sweetsunray was hypothesizing that the Vale, with its potential impending avalanche, is an old god type space via the tribes. Like the North has a disaster of winter coming and the south--she was wondering about another hammer of the waters.
But makes me wonder if the Stony Dornish (which include the Daynes) and their places have a similar quality. We've got that fight at the tower and all its potential symbolism right in the Wide Way with the people of Kingsgrave and Skyreach, who, among other Stony Dornish, are said to be like the Vale clans. . . . so, perhaps some connection to the magics?
“Lysa! What’s the meaning of this?” The shout cut through the sobs and heavy breathing. Footsteps echoed down the High Hall. “Get back from there! Lysa, what are you doing?” The guards were still beating at the door; Littlefinger had come in the back way, through the lords’ entrance behind the dais.
So, the back way is the Lord's Way? Am assuming this will bring on all the attendant jokes.
But Littlefinger does come at everything sideways and backward.
And, again, the knights/guards are ineffective in really protecting Sansa against the crazed leader. She really does need a true knight.
Did Lysa forget that Petyr was there and could get in this way or did she stage this scene for him? A test of his devotion? Has Littlefinger been watching this unfold only to interrupt at the most opportune moment? Does he realize that Sansa is there?
That's a question I really want an answer to. He can keep calm under pressure, but if he really let Lysa do all of this only to set up her death. . . that's really, really cold. In the cold room with blue.
He does seem surprised that Sansa is there, maybe.
True. And it is interesting that Littlefinger's ability to redirect Lysa--jsut getting her to look at him--is all it takes to save Sansa and set up the killing of Lysa.
Guess you never thought to blame the lecherous ass you call husband for his own actions, huh, Lysa?
HA! Yup! His talent is to get people to look at the wrong thing.
Sansa saves herself by grabbing the braid. Here, Lysa grabs Sansa's hair. A thing she, Sansa, and Cat all have in common. No idea what to do with that random observation.
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.
I may give in to the spinning thoughts in my brain via rushed posts in-between moments at work. But I never expect anyone to join in just to back me up. No worries.
It just got my protective instincts going. Unfortunately, I couldn't come up with a better way to say it or anything else that would have strengthened your interpretation.
sweetsunray was hypothesizing that the Vale, with its potential impending avalanche, is an old god type space via the tribes. Like the North has a disaster of winter coming and the south--she was wondering about another hammer of the waters.
I haven't had a chance to read her latest post all the way through. I really need to make the time to do that. I really like a lot of her ideas. I'm not sure that I agree with all of her interpretations, but there's always some great observations there. I just wonder. Are we looking for too many natural disasters? I think that we're already going to lose the wall and all of the related damage that would occur with that. I think that there's a fair amount of set up for the avalanche in the Vale. How much more do we need? Fire v. Ice is already giving us a good reason to expect floods. Or is this all just meant to be another Ragnarok?
But makes me wonder if the Stony Dornish (which include the Daynes) and their places have a similar quality. We've got that fight at the tower and all its potential symbolism right in the Wide Way with the people of Kingsgrave and Skyreach, who, among other Stony Dornish, are said to be like the Vale clans. . . . so, perhaps some connection to the magics?
And if we look at our non-canonical World Book, seems to me that there are some pretty nasty families in the Dornish passages that claim a magical background. But I'm also thinking that might be true for the majority of Westeros period.
That's a question I really want an answer to. He can keep calm under pressure, but if he really let Lysa do all of this only to set up her death. . . that's really, really cold. In the cold room with blue.
And I'm not sure that we'll ever find out the answer to that question for certain.
True. And it is interesting that Littlefinger's ability to redirect Lysa--jsut getting her to look at him--is all it takes to save Sansa and set up the killing of Lysa.
Well, he has had something like twenty years to perfect his hold over her.
Sansa saves herself by grabbing the braid. Here, Lysa grabs Sansa's hair. A thing she, Sansa, and Cat all have in common. No idea what to do with that random observation.
I made the same one. Then deleted it because I had absolutely no idea what to do with that random observation. ::oops::
“Be quiet!” her aunt screamed . “I never gave you leave to speak. No one cares about your castle.”
“She’s a child, Lysa. Cat’s daughter. What did you think you were doing?”
“I was going to marry her to Robert! She has no gratitude. No … no decency. You are not hers to kiss. Not hers! I was teaching her a lesson, that was all.”
“I see.” He stroked his chin. “I think she understands now. Isn’t that so, Alayne?”
“Yes,” sobbed Sansa. “I understand.”
“I don’t want her here.” Her aunt’s eyes were shiny with tears. “Why did you bring her to the Vale, Petyr? This isn’t her place. She doesn’t belong here.”
“We’ll send her away, then. Back to King’s Landing, if you like.” He took a step toward them. “Let her up, now. Let her away from the door.”
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?