Not quite through with the first book. Spoilers about A Game of Thrones, and talk of Mafia movies whose spoilers you really ought to already know, below the fold.
One thing is really clear even without having finished the first book — Ned did NOT think things through. Clearly he did not watch enough Mafia movies as a youth so as to have an understanding of what he was up against. And it’s obviously going to end badly for him, just as obviously as King Robert Baratheon had “Goner” written all over him from the first time we met the guy.
I’m actually kind of serious here. For us modern readers, raised in an era of political leaders not only unworthy of trust but from time to time exposed as being outright malign in intent, the idea of an evil behind-the-scenes manipulator making a ruthless grab for over political power, killing if (s)he must to gain it, seems close to cliched. The reason for it is that our own mythology — movies, novels, comic books, popular music — frequently features evil figures moving in spheres of government, high commerce and industry, the military, or other positions of social respect.
We have heroes in our myths to provide us with examples of how to act in different kinds of situations. Classically, mythological heroes provide exemplars of behavior in coming-of-age situations. In the classic Hero’s Journey myths, the young male hero suffers a loss, takes guidance from an older man, confronts a minor challenge to gain a tool of some sort, uses the tool to confront a major challenge, and returns home (“home” may not necessarily be the place he started out in) having been transformed by the journey from a boy to a man. The purpose of the story is to tell boys what it is to be men — so that they can become men themselves.
Looking at our own mythology, we see the Hero’s Journey a lot, but we see other kinds of stories too. We see lots of stories of betrayal, greed, and corruption. These are ultimately cautionary tales — myths that teach us that power and wealth erode ethics. We have difficulty imagining someone ascending to great political power without having made significant moral compromises. The myths that teach us this range from fictionalized movies (The Candidate or Wag The Dog, for instance) to real life (look at figures like LBJ and Nixon). We are trained, therefore, to be cautious about making ethical compromises, and to be willing to eschew political power if doing so requires ethical compromises.
Eddard Stark’s mythology, by contrast, seems to be a glorification of military heroes, one that he knows consciously was edited in some fashion to emphasize the fighting prowess of the people mythologized and to de-emphasize their flaws and foibles. Even though he is himself ethically uncompromising (even as he sneers at Stannis Baratheon for his own moral rigidity) he cannot grasp, down in his testicles where he really needs to feel it, that other people are not like that. His mythological lens on the world is one of heroes and warriors. He never heard the story about Fredo making a deal with Hyman Roth.
So even as he accumulates mountains of evidence of what a menagerie of monsters the Lannisters are, and even as he comes to consciously expect them to make a play for the throne, and most frustrating of all for me as a reader even after everyone in King’s Landing including Cersei Lannister herself tells him that she is ready, willing, and able to run Ned over so as to seize power herself, Ned still can’t make himself feel the truth of that scary reality until the noose is already securely tightened around his neck. No one told him stories of betrayal and ruthlessness as a child and a part of him simply couldn’t believe that other people would be willing to forsake their dignity and ethics for power. So he walks into the throne room thinking he’s got this big secret — which it seems like everyone else in that room knows it already anyway — and believes himself to be sufficiently able to deal with the situation. To be fair, he thought he’d secured the loyalty of the Guard but forgot to secure the loyalty of the guy who commanded it. His time to strike effectively had long passed before he’d ever drawn his blade.
Dude should have at least read some Sun Tzu.
So what you’re saying then, is that Ned is the original Tea Partiers?
No, being unable to imagine the ruthless evil of his enemies makes Ned Obama.
You know, I have been told that A Song of Fire and Ice is a big analogy for the Vietnam War. That seems about as accurate as saying Lord of the Rings is about WWI, which is to say that’s not what it’s about at all.
If you want to torture recent historical analogies out of it, go ahead, but I don’t see a strong analogy between any recent war and the war in the first book. The closest analogy I can see to the war in Game of Thrones is the English Wars of the Roses, which is not a particularly emotionally resonant historical theme for your typical American reader (mileage may vary in the UK).
Wow, it took me most of the way through your reply to see how I’d fished up. When I said “original Tea Partiers” I meant the relatively small group of people 3 or 4 years ago that started with a dream of ideological purity only to see it systematically usurped by the larger powers they were out to vanquish. And I’d meant it half jokingly.
I keep forgetting when I use the phrase Tea Parties that there were originals, and then there were originals.
… you mean kock? I think they’re quite satisfied.
Nah… Ned’s Carter. Willing to do the best thing for the country, and damn the consequences (Volokher saved America), but too moral for his own good.
I think Ned knew he was doomed, and that he was no match for that nest of vipers – knew it at the moment he agreed to be Hand – but didn’t feel that he had any other moral choice to make. He may’ve lost and/or buried that knowledge as part of his perceived duty, later on, but deep down? He knew.
Yeah, I think that’s right. Certainly the moment Robert asked him, his heart sank.
Sorry, Burt–this could not be more off topic. I certainly didn’t intend for it to arrive here, with this discussion taking place.
Is there any way I can post comments on this sub blog without interfering with ongoing discussions?
Thanks, and again, my apologies.
You’re not the first person this has happened to. No one is quite sure how it happens, either.
Mr. Kain, do you EVER not take both sides of an argument? EVER, EVER, EVER???
You: “I think the muppets should remain essentially without sexual orientation. The Muppet’s are basically children, or childlike”
One sentence later: “Again, though, a gay human couple would be fine, quite likely a positive inclusion… Huh??
Are you just trying to yank chains?
Amen, Mike at the Big Stick. Nice to know there is at least one sane human being at the League of Pashtun Gentlemen.
Rufus, victimhood can be an intoxicating pleasure–gays live and thrive on it. Without it, their tribe splinters into meaningless cacophony without any fuel to sustain it. That’s a lot to lose, which is why this issue will never die. Sadly.
I think you will find he takes a singular yet misguided position on the whole muppet king argument.
I think that you’re reading a bit too much into a character whose whole purpose was to be The Good Man Who Was Betrayed By The Bad Guys So We Can See How Evil They Really Are. Eddard Stark was a plot device.
Oh, goodness me, not an overwrought disputation of an obscure, geeky subject!