The first enemy and the last

There's a funny thing about writing a lengthy story: if you're lucky, even you, the author, doesn't know where some of it's going until you get there. I've often found when I'm writing or plotting something extensive that little things I've done or written early on often become something even greater as I move along and live with the story and the characters for a while. I think it's easier done in fantasy than in some other genres because you can attach legendary or historical status to something as a footnote and then have it transform into the greatest threat the world has ever seen. Take, for example, the One Ring in Lord of the Rings. In the Hobbit, it's just an invisibility ring that turns out to be key for Bilbo at a few points and makes him the burglar that Gandalf had said he was. (Wizards. Can't trust'em. With that "insight" of theirs. They gotta be lyin'.) But it becomes one of the foci of the greater epic that followed.

Similarly, it's likely that George RR Martin didn't automatically envision the Others as the doomsday weapon that the Children of the Forest had created against the First Men or that they would be led by the Night's King or even that they had the power to casually slay the dragons that they would inevitably meet in the Song of Ice and Fire. I'm betting that a lot of that came later as the story developed or was even brought in from other unfinished works (I've done that, too; the legend of the Night's King kind of sticks out in this respect.) But there's little doubt that even when he was imagining this sprawling story as a single novel, the Others were always going to be the main antagonist of the story that everyone would have to ally against to prevent the scourging of humanity from all of Westeros, if not beyond. That's your essential plot. The rest of it is just details (albeit rather wonderful and interesting details.)

As Beric Dondarrion mentions in this episode, death is "the first enemy and the last." The Others were always going to be that death: the first enemy of all humanity and likely the last enemy of the series, even if the perpetual war for what remains of Westeros might carry on in some small corners of the continent. So, Martin (and, subsequently, Benioff and Weiss) always knew that the threat from beyond the Wall was going to be the end of the story. But what that threat really represents is still up for interpretation. Considering the massive amount of detail and backstory that surrounds virtually every aspect of the series, both books and TV, you'd like to think that a certain amount of majesty will be conveyed by finally encountering the last enemy. And that's where we're running into a little trouble.

As I mentioned last week, the adventuring party going out past the Wall is just a little too stock Hollywood convenience for me (again, see: Captain Kirk and Co.) So, while I appreciated the dialogue scenes it created- the reckoning of the sword between Jon and Jorah; the buddy cop routine between Tormund and the Hound; the reference back to the siege of Pyke between Jorah and Thoros -and the later tension of the battle between the living and the dead, I'm stuck feeling like a lot of things are being given short shrift in the rush to complete the season in seven episodes, after taking six years to get us here (and 20 years for those of us reading the books... How's that last one coming along, George, whattaya say?) Where at one time the series could have been accused of having taken a rather languorous pace in telling the story (Hey, George, about that pace... Nevermind. I'll stop.), now it feels like we're not seeing things that we perhaps should or that shortcuts are being taken in order to make the plot work.

An example of the former is Benjen's appearance to rescue Jon. While a lot of people are probably seeing that as a deus ex machina moment ("Suddenly, from out of the (constant) blue (tint), our hero is saved!"), I'm betting there's an answer embedded in last season. When Benjen arrived to help bring Bran and Co. to the tree, he mentioned that he'd been sent there by the Three-Eyed Raven. I'm betting similar circumstances exist in this case, because Bran has probably been seeing future events and sent Benjen to save his brother (well, cousin, actually.) In the slower pace of previous seasons, we probably would have gotten a Bran scene that displayed that.

An example of the latter case is the rather rampant condensing of time that's happening in terms of armies racing across the continent, blacksmiths sprinting all the way back to the Wall, ravens streaking down to Dragonstone, and dragons similarly hitting supersonic speeds to get to the utter North. That looked like it took a matter of hours, when any realistic notion would indicate days having to transpire for all of that to happen. Yes, fantasy world; I get it. But there still have to be some rules in order for suspension of disbelief to take place and those rules seem to be nonexistent at the moment, which means our belief is under strain, too. Even if we accept that ravens can fly that fast and dragons can fly that fast, we also have to accept that Gendry was able to run the whole way back to Eastwatch, which means that the entire army of the Night's King was a couple hours walk from the Wall and was just hanging out for some reason. One would hope that their implication was not that the adventurers survived being exposed to the bitter cold for days while waiting for Dany and that the Night's King waited that long to finish them.

But, if so, does that mean that the Night's King also has visions of what's to come and this whole process was something of a trap so that he could acquire a dragon? (Ladies and gentlemen, Sindragosa has joined the game. /Warcraft nerd moment.) If that's where Martin's elaboration led him, I'd say that that's not what you'd hope to develop out of the base idea of the threat to all existence. It seems that the whole battle sequence was the shortiest shortcut of them all because, once again, the only way to convince Cersei Lannister to help out is to show her the walking dead. Yeah. That still doesn't sound good, which makes this whole detour of a storyline almost as bad as Dorne.

The overall theme of the episode is still carried over into the other major setting: Winterfell, where Arya and Sansa are carrying their childhood rivalry forward. The first "enemy" you have as a kid is almost always another sibling and those attitudes are difficult to shape, even with age and presumed wisdom. Similarly, there's little doubt that Littlefinger was the first enemy in the political scenario, since he poisoned both Jon Arryn's body and Lysa Arryn's mind, and there's also little doubt that he'll be around to see the end of whatever the situation settles into. But at some point we also run into the problem that petty squabbling between sisters has about as much importance in the face of the Others as any of the real fights between the great houses. It also strikes me as yet another too convenient moment. Sansa has spent this whole season warning us and everyone she can reach about how Littlefinger is not to be trusted and yet when she feels threatened by Arya, the first person she runs to for advice is... Littlefinger? We've spent the whole season watching Sansa take control of her part in the game and now see her revert to the scared child? I mean, yes, "fear makes people do unfortunate things" and this certainly could be part of the long con that Arya's running to expose Lord Baelish but, in the end, it's also just more noise because Omar the Ice Zombie comin', yo.

So, when you get down to writing that epic story, allow yourself the room to do two things: First, let characters, events, plot points, and storylines change of their own free will. Don't fight them. Let the story go where it's going to go and you'll usually be delighted with the stuff you didn't think of when you first mapped it out. Second, don't wait so long to end it that it feels like you have to cut it off before the publishers can't bind it and everyone feels cheated because the payoff didn't match the build up. We're not quite there yet (another season to go...), but things are getting rocky.

Technical stuff:

I was surprised to realize that Alan Taylor actually hadn't directed an episode since the end of season 2. Crazy. He directed Baelor, where Ned has the weight taken off his shoulders and where Drogo takes his last ride, so he's into the whole "major death" thing. I don't think Viserion being killed is quite at the same level, but it will definitely have an impact on the fanbase when the draconic contingent is reduced by a third (or switching sides, really. Many fine people on all sides, you know.)

RIP, Thoros. Paul Kaye made him one of the more entertaining minor characters.

In sharp contrast to the now years-old trend of "chaotic combat", I have to say that Taylor did well in keeping the pace of the island fight taut, but still allowing us to see exactly who was engaged with the undead at any given moment. The diversity of weapons helped in that respect, too (switching from Longclaw to the hammer to Dondarrion's flaming sword to Tormund's halberd to Jorah's two-fisted approach) but we had clear shots of each warrior doing their thing and it still felt like the pace and the associated mood was frantic, as it should have been.

The encounter with the scouting party gave mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was our first encounter with an Other that wasn't a hugely dramatic moments with cellos playing furiously. This was just a guy leading a bunch of wights and he got ambushed. On the other hand, why was one of the Others leading such a small band that could be ambushed and why bother to have an Other with a scouting party, anyway, if all of them are capable of screaming so loudly that the entire army can hear them from miles away. Despite perhaps learning that wights crumble when their raising master dies, we know that they don't need said master around to be mobile, as the ones at Castle Black in season 1 demonstrated. What added to the clumsy nature of that whole scene was that, when the Other was hacked down, all of the wights except one happened to dissipate. How many did the adventurers need to capture? One! Yay? Like I said, Benjen can perhaps be explained by the lack of a scene with Bran, but the whole ambush sequence left me frowning.

One minor note: They see the undead bear coming through the storm. I won't ask how they knew it was a bear, since at least Tormund was a native and had probably seen this before. But at one point he mentions that bears don't have blue eyes. How the hell could he have seen the thing's eyes through blizzard conditions? I mean, my vision ain't what it used to be, but come on.

On that note, the visual effects that made up said flaming, undead bear were really impressive. Even if the Hound wasn't traumatized by fire, you could forgive almost anyone for just stopping to stare at the (literally) roaring conflagration with claws.

Lines of the week:

"You spent too much time with the free folk. Now you don't like kneeling."
Political realizations come later in life for most people.

"You sold me to a witch."
"A priestess. I admit it is a subtle distinction."
There's a religion softball, right over the plate.

"This one's been killed six times. You don't hear him bitching about it."
Yep. Favorite character. Still the Hound.

"I knew what I was doing was against the  rules , but he was smiling so I knew it wasn't wrong. The rules were wrong."
This is one of the undercurrent themes of not only Arya's identity as an outside, but also the political situation as a whole, which Tyrion keeps trying to remind Dany of: if you play by the usual rules, you ruin everything you've tried to build.

"You're angry. Sometimes anger makes people do unfortunate things."
"Sometimes fear makes them do unfortunate things. I'll go with anger."
That exchange is the definition of Sansa and Arya: one constantly afraid, either that she won't be a queen or for her life; the other constantly angry because she can't be a knight or against the world for what it's done to her.

"The way she looks at you? Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?"
"You DO know her!"

and

"How did a mad fucker like you live this long?"
"I'm good at killing people."
Buddy cop movie, seriously. They're on the same page as far as avocation goes. Now they just need to talk about life outside the job and women is a typical topic. The screenplay writes itself!

"What's the point of serving a god if none of us know what he wants?"
Yet another softball.

"I suppose he stares at you longingly because he's hoping for a successful military alliance."
Hey, Metternich would have.

"If you want to build a new world, deceit and mass murder is probably not the way to go."
"Which war was won without deceit and mass murder?"
I think the juxtaposition of Dany's attempt to change the world without killing people to make those changes has been the best part of her storyline, throughout the series. I'm glad that they're keeping up with it now that she's on the cusp of achieving her goals.

"Everyone I've ever met has been a cunt. Don't see why the Lord of Light should be any different."
Yep. Still favorite.

And the winner:

"You have to keep moving. Walking's good. Fighting's better. Fucking's best."
Preach it.