Feel like I'm running out of time before I can get to everything that I want to. You both made some interesting points, but my mind is turning off. I will be back to say more and add more quotes.
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?
Feel like I'm running out of time before I can get to everything that I want to. You both made some interesting points, but my mind is turning off. I will be back to say more and add more quotes.
Lady Dyanna The kids started yesterday and I am already exhausted! It may take awhile, until the body adjusts I will be here only sporadically :-)
Nice! I wonder, though, whose memories do the fallen snowflakes represent? Sansa's? Older memories?
I like the memories idea. Her mind is going home--even though she's telling herself she's Alyane.
Also, the snow is weighing down and covering everything. Like a pall. Like death--all even. And the memories of childhood, of home--a home built on an ancient past. The snow is almost turning the Eyrie into home--like her presence changes it. Or, more realistically, winter changes it back to her home for her. She really is a child of winter. Winter's Queen/Princess.
To take this one step further, I believe that the snow in this section IS Sansa's memories and dreams, or at least meant to be symbolic of them. She speculates if the snow had woken her and in a way it had. Her dream and memories of home cause her awakening.
She is definitely having a conflict of identity here, just as Jon did. Sees herself as dead, rising as Alayne, just as Jon rises as a wilding raider. Neither are comfortable in these new identities. They are not who they are, not meant to last. BC made an interesting comment on heresy the other day. This was not the death of Sansa STARK, but rather Sansa Tulley, the Lady that rejected Winterfell in favor of songs and southern court, etc. If this is true she remains free to rise again in the future as the true Stark that she is.
And I like the death of Sansa Tully idea--a lot of commenters talk about how the death of Lady=death of Sansa as Stark. But that didn't make sense to me--the Starks literally live with their dead. And Ned sent Lady all the way back to Winterfell for a proper burial.
But the Tully side--that has gotten in Cat's way, too. And now she's Stoneheart. The demon Mother in the Riverlands. But Sansa's a Snow Princess--hiding under a Stone.
You're definitely right about Cat! This might have been something that Sansa needed to shed to fully reunite with her Stark pack effectively, including Lady.
I'm thinking blue, for a blue winter rose. Later in this chapter, Sansa will echo Lyanna.
Can't believe I didn't think of that. She's a stolen bride--literally. Tyrion's bride, stolen. Whereas Lyanna was only betrothed. Sansa even snipes (briefly) at Littlefinger later for not taking her home. She's careful even with her thoughts in the quotes you gave, but what she really thinks will break through.
Don't be so hard on yourself. You can't always remember everything! I actually think that you may be the one who somehow put the idea in my head. :::
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 was the old days she hungered for . Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once , she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me."
I like how this is written. We have "heard" Arya's and Bran's prayers to the old gods. I don'the recall if they needed a weirwood though. I think Martin is calling us to notice the thin soil that Sansa is planted in now. She cannot grow here. She can't even pray.
Actually we don't "hear" the prayers of anyone but Arya, and hers is the list of names. There are 186 mentions of "prayer" according to Search, and sometimes characters speak their prayers out loud. Mostly, Martin states, 'so n so said a prayer'. Many times someone thinks that the Gods are ignoring them. Only Sansa feels she can'take pray because the settings aren't right. Is it because of her earlier Faith in the Seven? Is she still hung up on appearances? Or is Martin just making a point about her being out of place?
Good catch! I wonder if it's possible that this also shows us Sansa trying to reconnect with her Stark side? She had always prayed as a Tully before, in a sept. Now she is trying to pray like a Stark, but she's never done it before and isn't quite sure how to right now. Her Stark identity is still buried under the snow of her dreams and memories. The soil is too thin here. It's difficult for her Stark identity to take root.
Last Edit: Sept 15, 2015 5:22:58 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?
I really like the last part of it. I also tend to wonder if these snowflakes represent more than just Sansa's memories. Is it meant as foreshadowing of what I believe is another echo moment at the end of the chapter?
Her maid rolled herself more tightly in her blanket as the snow began to drift in the window. Sansa eased open the door, and made her way down the winding stair. When she opened the door to the garden, it was so lovely that she held her breath, unwilling to disturb such perfect beauty. The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here.
Sansa is not cold enough to stop, though her maid is. I love that the space at the base of the spiral stair (like Winterfell crypt) is a garden. A garden of snow, and frozen things. Growing in purity. They are the colors of death, but it's living and pure and beautiful.
Pure and unbroken--the idea that death and/or cold are somehow redemptive. Or a beginning. And I love the term "color had fled"--the purity of the cold and snow have driven out impurity.
White tower--Palestone Sword? Black and white--simple and clear.
Yet she stepped out all the same. Her boots tore ankle-deep holes into the smooth white surface of the snow, yet made no sound. Sansa drifted past frosted shrubs and thin dark trees, and wondered if she were still dreaming. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.
A bit like Jon coming out of his cave "allowing himself to hope," Sansa "allows herself" to move into the pure world she thinks she doesn't belong in. Yes, she tears footprints, but no sound--still in the realm of the silent, magical dead. Dead and dreaming very close here.
Lover's kisses are cold in this pure world--only her life makes them warm. As if her lover is from the realm of the dead? Or just "snow?"
I like that the weeping woman is broken and buried under purified innocence--as if Sansa, the weeping woman, is now buried in this reconnection to her past and innocence and dreams and Winterfell. Being fed by the cold. By snow. Snow brings her to life and she makes it warm--is that too cute to be a foreshadow to Sansa meeting Jon in the underworld?
When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for . Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once , she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.
It's as if her willingness to enter the pure world--despite all that has happened--this act of faith brought her into the dawn. The lost time--"empty as me." Unlike the rest of the Starks, she's missing her wolf. Jon feels empty without Ghost when they are just separated. Granted, Sansa mentions the gods--but the old gods are the memories and people in the trees. Ancestors of a sort. Lady is part of that--sent by the old gods to her in particular. And now missing.
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.
Well, since on reread I'm not exactly sure what I meant with that... Oops.
I will say that I think we almost need to take that earlier passage literally, and equate snow with memories in general. If you go back through and replace each instance of snow or snowflakes with memories, it starts to paint a certain picture. It was Sansa's memories that woke her. Robb's memories were melting. They wouldn't last long, just as he wouldn't live long. Arya's snow ball falls apart just as her memory of her past currently is.
Sansa is not cold enough to stop, though her maid is. I love that the space at the base of the spiral stair (like Winterfell crypt) is a garden. A garden of snow, and frozen things. Growing in purity. They are the colors of death, but it's living and pure and beautiful.
Pure and unbroken--the idea that death and/or cold are somehow redemptive. Or a beginning. And I love the term "color had fled"--the purity of the cold and snow have driven out impurity.
White tower--Palestone Sword? Black and white--simple and clear.
Pure and unbroken, just as Sansa's memories of Winterfell are.
A bit like Jon coming out of his cave "allowing himself to hope," Sansa "allows herself" to move into the pure world she thinks she doesn't belong in. Yes, she tears footprints, but no sound--still in the realm of the silent, magical dead. Dead and dreaming very close here.
Lover's kisses are cold in this pure world--only her life makes them warm. As if her lover is from the realm of the dead? Or just "snow?"
I like that the weeping woman is broken and buried under purified innocence--as if Sansa, the weeping woman, is now buried in this reconnection to her past and innocence and dreams and Winterfell. Being fed by the cold. By snow. Snow brings her to life and she makes it warm--is that too cute to be a foreshadow to Sansa meeting Jon in the underworld?
She is afraid of altering the purity of her memories, yet she wades into them nonetheless. The snowflakes are warm on her face, just as her memories are warm. Comforting. Sansa's weeping woman self is being buried under her memories. Is Jon Snow a warm memory as well?
It's as if her willingness to enter the pure world--despite all that has happened--this act of faith brought her into the dawn. The lost time--"empty as me." Unlike the rest of the Starks, she's missing her wolf. Jon feels empty without Ghost when they are just separated. Granted, Sansa mentions the gods--but the old gods are the memories and people in the trees. Ancestors of a sort. Lady is part of that--sent by the old gods to her in particular. And now missing.
I agree. But it's not just the purity of the world that she entered, but the purity of her memories. She is able to draw strength from them. Maybe this is why she cannot pray. She has never truly prayed as a Stark before. She has always preferred the Tully Sept. Her memory can't guide her. The ground is still too thin for her Stark roots to take.
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?
She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. Heavy and wet, the snow packed easily. Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect. She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning . They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.
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?
She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. Heavy and wet, the snow packed easily. Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect.
Sansa's memories are heavy and wet. They are coming back to her easily now. She is shaping and smoothing them over in her mind until perfect.
She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning . They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none.
Were Arya and Bran doing a better job than Sansa at making memories at this point?
Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach,
Just as Bran is out of reach now, busy becoming a tree. Will he stay there in the future, remaining out of reach?
but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.
Does this foreshadow the future? Sansa will chase after Arya? Will Arya come back to check on Sansa's safety? Who would Jory be in this scenario?
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?
Post by regular jon umber on Oct 1, 2015 7:27:40 GMT
Winterfell is Sansa's happy place. Even memories with Arya are bringing her happiness, and they were fairly antagonistic when we first met them. At first, she wanted to get out, see the world, but the world screwed her, and Winterfell is the only place in the world that has happy memories.
She will try to get it back, it's literally all she wants.
Post by regular jon umber on Oct 1, 2015 7:29:27 GMT
And from higher up:
Sansa eased open the door, and made her way down the winding stair.
This is yet another voyage "down", into a black and white and grey world, where something ... unnerving/special happens. (to be shown in later paragraphs).
I really think that there might be a much closer Dayne/Stark connection than commonly thought. Might that also have connotations for Dawn and the SotM? Maybe even Lightbringer?
Pst... (whispering) it's the original Ice...
Haha, just wanted to say hello. Finally made it over to this thread. Diggin the convo
"I can see it. You have more of the north in you than your brothers."
I will say that I think we almost need to take that earlier passage literally, and equate snow with memories in general. If you go back through and replace each instance of snow or snowflakes with memories, it starts to paint a certain picture. It was Sansa's memories that woke her. Robb's memories were melting. They wouldn't last long, just as he wouldn't live long. Arya's snow ball falls apart just as her memory of her past currently is.
And maybe ice means memories--when Jon sees the ice outside of Craster's, his first thought is that his sisters would love this. Not all cold is clean--IE when the Others come, the cold is not good. But snow and ice as memory. Sansa ends up covered in it.
Pure and unbroken, just as Sansa's memories of Winterfell are.
Yes--pure in this moment. She wasn't so hot on Winterfell at the start. Now--she's woken up. Literally and figuratively. Now Winterfell is the land of dreams, not King's Landing.
When I looked again at Sansa's first POV in Game, her first moments in the POV are Mordane's chiding her for feeding Lady at table. Mordane says Sansa's a good girl, but "just like Arya" when it comes to her wolf. And Sansa does not care. Mouths off and keep feeding Lady--who eats as "delicately as a queen." So, right from the start--Sansa and Arya really are more united than they think. And, for all the talk of Sansa as the perfect lady, she's a direwolf queen. In that very first scene. A bit later, she notes that everyone parts when they see Lady--afraid. She doesn't care because it gets her where she wants to go.
Here--she's starting to see that again. Who she is and who she wants to be are merging. No wonder it's pure.
Now, if we can only get that merging for Arya and Needle and get that kid home.
Winterfell is Sansa's happy place. Even memories with Arya are bringing her happiness, and they were fairly antagonistic when we first met them. At first, she wanted to get out, see the world, but the world screwed her, and Winterfell is the only place in the world that has happy memories.
She will try to get it back, it's literally all she wants.
Yup, Yup, Yup!!!
Odd that the place filled with the dead would be the safe place. The world is the "fallen" Eden. Destroyed perfection that was only in her head. Winterfell--it has that ideal quality to it. A snowy Eden.
She is afraid of altering the purity of her memories, yet she wades into them nonetheless.The snowflakes are warm on her face, just as her memories are warm. Comforting. Sansa's weeping woman self is being buried under her memories. Is Jon Snow a warm memory as well?
I like that first bolded--she's getting her nerve back.
Snowflakes as warm--you're right. Fits with my own idea os there being deferent kinds of snow and cold. And I really like the idea of her weeping self buried under there warmth of memory snowflakes.
I do think Jon's a warm memory--her response to Myranda re: Jon is pure instinct. That connection is sweet and warm and Winterfell-filled.
This is starting to sound like a commercial for gingerbread. Or hot cocoa.
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.
She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. Heavy and wet, the snow packed easily. Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect.
Sansa's memories are heavy and wet. They are coming back to her easily now. She is shaping and smoothing them over in her mind until perfect.
She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning . They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none.
Were Arya and Bran doing a better job than Sansa at making memories at this point?
Or they are reminding her--pulling her back to being a child--Sansa was always trying to be the perfect little Lady, according to Cat. Arya and Bran are just kids. And they get Sansa to do the same--be just a kid.
but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.
Does this foreshadow the future? Sansa will chase after Arya? Will Arya come back to check on Sansa's safety? Who would Jory be in this scenario?
The description is so happy family. Sansa has "slipped up" in her chase. And I would love it if Arya came back for her. Arya does seem to have clues re: Sansa via mummer's troop, etc.
But I still have my pet theory that Sansa will hear about fake Arya--gossip will get to the Vale as it did about Jon. And Sansa will go north, perhaps after chucking Littlefinger. Sansa's got a chance at an army and supporters in the Vale. IF (big if) she can play them right.
As for the Jory--not sure. Maybe Jon? But what would they be fighting over later? Makes me sad again about Jory. . .
Sansa eased open the door, and made her way down the winding stair.
This is yet another voyage "down", into a black and white and grey world, where something ... unnerving/special happens. (to be shown in later paragraphs).
YUP! Underworlds and information. Unnerving. But it also seems to reveal who Sansa really is--to herself.
Haha, just wanted to say hello. Finally made it over to this thread. Diggin the convo
Amen! And welcome!
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.
And so, I just realized we got so caught up in the snow and praying that we all missed something pretty important. Sansa's time lapse. She enters the garden and poof , she's gone. Where did she go? She comes to a while later on her knees not knowing how she got there. What??? What happened? Did she pray and not know it? Did Lady take over? Was she playing with Lady in the snow? Where was Sansa?
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?