Book-reader’s recap—Episode 505—Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Spoiler Note: This post is intended for those who have read the books in the Song of Ice and Fire series. As such, the post itself and the comments will contain spoilers. If you haven’t read the books yet, you can discuss this episode in our non-book reader (Unsullied) recap. Thanks!

“Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken” begins in the House of Black and White, where pubescent girls wash the corpses of people who recently committed suicide. It’s one of the least disturbing parts of the episode. Arya’s been hard at work in her capacity as a Faceless Intern for weeks now, but she’s no closer to becoming a professional assassin, or to learning where the Faceless Men take the corpses after she’s done washing them. The surly girl who whapped Arya with a switch back in “High Sparrow” refuses to answer her questions, but she does tell an affecting story about how she came to be at the House of Black and White. It’s basically the same one we heard in the books, about how she was poisoned by her stepmother and came to the Faceless Men for help.

The catch is that her story may not be true. Arya has to pick out the lies, and upon finding out there’s a test involved, Maisie Williams gets a lot of mileage out of a very simple line: “What?” Later, after Jaqen H’ghar wakes Arya up in the middle of the night for a thrilling round of “Who are you? No one. Liar,” Arya proves that she’s catching on to his game. She tells her life story more or less true, but slips in little falsehoods along the way, each of which Jaqen catches and rewards with a smack of the switch. Of particular interest: it ends up Arya didn’t truly hate the Hound, even if she left him to die of his wounds. Aw. And weird.

Later, a father brings his sick daughter to the House of Black and White, hoping the Faceless Men can euthanize her. Although Arya’s lies didn’t fool Jaqen, she convinces little girl that drinking the poison water from the lobby pool will make things better. This is an intriguing scene, since it’s unclear exactly what motivates Arya to talk the little girl into drinking the water, or why her success convinces Jaqen that Arya is ready to see what happens to the copses. In any case, the scene is well-acted and eerie, and things only get eerier when Jaqen leads Arya deep down into the bowls of the House and shows her a pillared room where the walls are covered with human faces. It’s beautifully macabre, like something out of long-lost Grimm’s fairy tale, and another triumph for the show’s art direction. Also, Jaqen implies that Arya is ready to become “someone else,” although we’ll have to wait to find out exactly what he means.

Elsewhere in Essos, a dwarf and a six-foot-one wet blanket make their way to Meereen. Tyrion and Jorah are hungry, but otherwise seem to be getting along better than they were early on in the kidnapping. Even when they argue, it sounds like the kind of exasperated ribbing two people destined to become a sitcom couple share when frustrated (Jorah to Tyrion: “Do you ever shut up?”). They even get to talking about their dads, and Iain Glen does a great job of of swallowing his emotions when Jorah learns that his father, Ser Jeor Mormont, was killed beyond the Wall. Here’s this Westerosi knight, thousands of miles from home, suddenly yanked back to his childhood at the most expected time. A well-done moment.

The two are also on good enough terms to debate philosophy. Tyrion asks questions that far-seeing fans have been asking for years, namely whether Daenerys would even make a good ruler in Westeros, given that her father was a psycho and she hasn’t been there since she was a baby. Their conversation is cut short, however, when they’re set upon by slavers, who appear completely out of nowhere. Really, Jorah and Tyrion are walking in one direction, see a ship in the distance, turn around, and there’s a band of slavers right there. Bad editor, bad.

The slavers want to kill Tyrion and cut off his cock, since apparently “a dwarf’s cock has magic powers” and they can sell it for a fortune. Just how many superstitions about dwarfs are there in Essos? Tyrion talks his way out of it, the words “cock merchant” are spoken (by the talented Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, who deserves better), and the slavers decide to take the pair to Meereen after they’re convinced that Jorah’s a great warrior they can sell to the fighting pits. Dragons, leprosy zombies, and pirates—this is shaping up to be one hell of a road trip.

Dorne: as far south as south goes. Prince Trystane Martell brings a flower to Myrcella Baratheon and places it tenderly in her hair. The two hold hands and kiss and talk about getting married and just what the hell is happening here? A pair of highborn young people who honestly have affection for each other? Don’t they know what show they’re on? They won’t last three seconds. Prince Doran, who’s watching from a balcony, is also concerned, and warns Areo Hotah that shit is about to go down.

Everybody come to the Water Gardens! Jaime and Bronn, decked out in bloody clothes swiped from the Dornish soldiers they killed in “Sons of the Harpy,” sneak into the bucolic palace intending to find Myrcella and…figure out how to get her out of Dorne from there. “I like to improvise,” Jaime says. Jaime is dumb. Also, he’ll have to compete with the Sand Snakes, who are planning to abscond with Myrcella so they can kill her and start a war. You know, if Jaime successfully smuggled Myrcella out of Dorne, it would also be grounds for war. I think everyone involved here wants the same thing but is too stupid to realize it.

To sum up, the whole Dornish plot seems more silly and far removed from the show’s usual tone the longer it goes on, but at least we get an okay fight scene out of it. Jaime and the Sand Snakes find Myrcella at the same time and go at it. There is knife-fu and whip-fu and spear-fu, and Bronn gets cut, which totally means he’s poisoned. Areo Hotah breaks up the ruckus and the sends everyone to their rooms. Dorne, ladies and gentlemen.

Further north, we see Littlefinger arrive in King’s Landing. He immediately runs into a pack of Sparrows led by Lancel Lannister, who gets all up in his grill about his unsavory business practices—e.g. owning more brothels than you can shake a syphilitic stick at. Littlefinger is awfully glib to the born-again Lannister, and even though I think the Sparrows are missing the context required to make them feel like a real threat, you’ve got to be concerned about a guy deluded enough to pick a fight with Littlefinger.

But Littlefinger’s real business is with Cersei. The two get to talking, and it’s the usual passive-aggressive theater. He implies that having Loras arrested was a dumb move, she claims plausible deniability, he takes a swipe at her twincest, and she mocks his marriage to Lysa Arryn. They should charge admission. Littlefinger does eventually get the better of Cersei once he tells her about Sansa’s engagement to Ramsay Bolton. It appears that his new plan is use the Knights of the Vale to rout the victor of the coming Stannis-Bolton smackdown in exchange for Cersei naming him Warden of the North. Cersei is enraged enough by the Bolton’s betrayal, and by Sansa Stark’s continued existence, to agree.

Also, and I almost feel like this is just implied at this point, but Cersei was drinking in this scene.

Also arriving in King’s Landing: Lady Olenna Tyrell, sassy and brassy as ever. She has her own sit-down with Cersei, although the Dowager Queen keeps her cool for this one. Olenna reminds Cersei that she is jeopardizing the Lannister-Tyrell alliance by having Loras arrested, and advises her that sometimes rivals have to work together for the greater good. Cersei, displaying the kind of crackerjack thinking that’s turning her family into a laughing stock, says simply that “House Lannister has no rival.” There’s really no arguing with people like Cersei.

There’s no arguing with religious zealots, either. We see Loras at his “holy inquest,” featuring the High Sparrow as inquisitor. Loras denies he ever had sex with Renly, or with any other man, and Margaery (who’s more than a little surprised to be called to the stand for questioning) backs him up. The High Sparrow brings out Olyvar as his surprise witness, who testifies about his ongoing affair with Loras. Really, the Faith don’t seem to have much on Loras, but Loras makes himself look bad when he charges the witness stand after Olyvar describes the Dorne-shaped birthmark we saw in “The Wars to Come.” The Faith take both Loras and Margaery into custody so they can try them, Loras for buggery and Margaery for “bearing false witness before the gods.”

I don’t like that this scene basically depended on Loras being a big ol’ dumbass and charging the witness stand when he could have just sat quietly and denied that he had any such birthmark. What were they gonna do, strip him right there? It’s possible that he charged because he felt personally betrayed by Olyvar—Loras is known for his hotheadedness—but I never got the idea that the two were that serious. Also, I’m not totally clear on why Tommen didn’t order his guards to stop his Queen from being dragged away. I know the kid has a problem with violence, but there’s a time and place for everything. Overall, this plot continues to be written less sharply than I’d like.

For better or worse, the writers are paying pretty close attention to the goings-on at Winterfell, which take a serious turn into the disturbing tonight. From the start, there’s an air of foreboding about these scenes. For example, note how Myranda, when giving Sansa her bath, squeezes the dye out of Sansa’s hair much in the same way that Arya squeezed the dirt out of the corpse’s hair at the top of the episode—an unsettling comparison. When Myranda tries to rattle Sansa by telling her about all the girls that Ramsay has gotten bored with over the years, Sansa brushes her off with aplomb, but that self-assurance doesn’t make Ramsay any less dangerous.

That’s something he proves tonight. Sansa’s wedding to Ramsay takes place in Winterfell’s godswood, and is staged with the solemnity of a death march. Between the falling snow, flickering candles, and grim onlookers, it’s beautiful but grotesque, a counterpoint to the room of faces in the House of Black and White. After it’s over, Ramsay, Sansa, and Theon enter a bedchamber. Ramsay commands Theon to stay and watch what’s about to happen. Ramsay rips open Sansa’s dress, pushes her onto the bed, and rapes her. The focus is on Sansa face, her cries, and Theon’s face as he watches from the corner, crying.

It’s a terrifying scene with plenty to unpack. To some degree, it’s the producers’ way of reinforcing an incredibly bleak worldview. Sansa has come a long way from the days when she was a foolish girl eager to marry. She’s far more mature, and equipped to take on much of what life throws her way. But she still lives in a world where men like Ned Stark are beheaded for trying to do the right thing. It’s a cruel world, especially for women. The characters on Game of Thrones have suffered a lot of grief, and our expectation as viewers may be that it’s time for them to turn the tables, but that’s never been the kind of place Westeros is.

Or at least that’s not the kind of place the producers would have it be. If they’re using Sansa’s rape as a way to remind us of the harshness of this world, they risk being redundant, as that’s something they’ve already pounded home. If they’re using it as a narrative device to develop Sansa’s character—or worse, to develop Theon’s character—they risk seeming irresponsible (read Unsullied recapper Katie Majka’s thoughts on the rape potentially being used as a plot device). Ultimately, it’s hard to know what will happen without seeing the aftermath. For now, we’re just left with the horror.

Odds and Ends

Tell me a story. This season has been marked by characters giving long monologues about their pasts. These have ranged from very interesting (e.g. Littlefinger’s talk about the Tourney at Harrenhal, Stannis’ father-daughter bonding moment with Shireen) to tired and overbaked (e.g. Obara’s monologue about tears vs. spears). The show has always included such stories, but they’ve been so plentiful this season that they’re starting to seem like a crutch for the writers. This episode played with the concept by having Arya hear and tell stories that may or may not be true, and by having Jorah tell Tyrion the story about Daenerys and the pyre, which we actually saw happen. I applaud writer Bryan Cogman for having a little fun here, but it’d be nice if the team eased off this device going forward.

Presenting the amazing Littlefinger. This guy is always working an angle. First he was forging an alliance with Roose Bolton. Then he told Sansa that he was expecting Stannis to defeat Bolton, and now he’s offering to rout both Stannis and Bolton for Cersei. It’s like he’s addicted to scheming—chaos is a ladder, etc, etc. This latest plan raises the question about how he really feels about Sansa. Would he have actually allowed her to forego marrying Ramsay if she had asked, like he said he would in “High Sparrow?” If he had, the Boltons wouldn’t have had the chance to betray Cersei, and he couldn’t have offered to destroy them in return for a nice Northern Wardenship. Is he just really good at taking advantage of opportunities as they arise? I think so. He needs an intervention.

Bronn used to be a pop star. Bronn’s rendition of “The Dornishman’s Wife” seems as good an excuse as any to point out that Jerome Flynn, who plays Bronn, was once part of a British pop duo called Robson & Jerome. Here’s a music video of him and his partner singing a Carole King song. You’re welcome.

You’re killin’ me, Donre. When A Feast for Crows first came out, a lot of readers were frustrated by what they saw as a pointless detour to Dorne, where a bunch of characters they’d never met talked about stuff they didn’t care about and did things that seemed of little consequence. The Game of Thrones producers, high on the fans’ love for Oberyn Martell, chose to (very loosely) adapt that plot, but apart from getting through the material a lot faster than George R.R. Martin did, haven’t had better results. Everything in Dorne feel oddly shallow, from Jaime and Bronn’s buddy heist flick to the glorified actions figures that are the Sand Snakes. Also, with Aegon Targaryen apparently out of the picture, there’s less connecting tissue tying Dorne back to the main plot threads than there was in the books. Yes, the Water Gardens are pretty, but was this detour worth it?

The key scenes for me this week were the first ones in the House of Black and White and the last ones at Winterfell. Both Arya and Sansa found themselves in pits of horror. Arya seemed fascinated, while Sansa was brutalized. It was a potent but disturbing episode of Game of Thrones.

• Published on 05/18/2015 at 3:56 AM CDT
• Last updated on 10/21/2016 at 1:04 PM CDT