“I think we all owe each other an apology,” ventures the knight in lion livery. “I’ll start: I’m very sorry for telling nasty lies about my friends.”
“I’m sorry too,” says the boy king with the stag banner. “I had trouble sharing.”
The dragon-mounted warrior woman adds, “I forgive you all for trying to steal my throne.”
“We’re all to blame,” says a grizzled lord in wolfskins,“but we’ve finally learned the true meaning of friendship. Now who wants a hug?”
George Martin awoke fighting against the sheets entwining him. “Just a nightmare,” he repeated in the darkness, “a nightmare.”
Today’s story is best appreciated if you watch the Game of Thrones series or read the books they’re based upon, by George R. R. Martin. For the uninitiated, Martin as an author is known for ruthlessly killing off characters in spades, even beloved fan favorites. It’s an ongoing joke that no one’s safe in his series. Anyone can die, at any time, even for pointless and unsatisfying reasons.
And yet, we keep coming back for more.
I got to thinking what such a man’s id (the deep, suppressed part of his mind) must be like. Obviously all the violence and sex are on parade in Martin’s books, so that must mean that inside his deepest, darkest soul, he’s keeping something even scarier locked up. I propose that the “something” is a deep desire to write children’s stories where everyone learns the meaning of friendship and shares their toys.
These are the things that terrify a man like George R. R. Martin.
Yes, that’s right. You and I may have nightmares about falling, or spiders. Personally, I have a recurring nightmare involving zombies. But not our friend George.
Any other Game of Thrones / Song of Ice and Fire fans out there?