It was a glorious day, a magical day. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of flowers, and the woods here had a gentle beauty that Sansa had never seen in the north. Prince Joffrey’s mount was a blood bay courser, swift as the wind, and he rode it with reckless abandon, so fast that Sansa was hard-pressed to keep up on her mare. It was a day for adventures.
A Game of Thrones is the first volume in George R.R. Martin’s mighty A Song of Ice and Fire series, the literary precursor to HBO’s excellent television series. I has reservations about tackling the books after enjoying the screen version so much; part of the joy is the rich production and quality acting (Game of Thrones really is an orgy of the best British acting talent). However, I was more than pleasantly surprised with Martin’s skill as a writer.
HBO have been very faithful to the novels, dividing up the first book very neatly into the initial 10 episode season. What the page lends to the visual story is the multiple point of view narratives, where the story gradually unfolds through the eyes of only a select number of Martin’s vast array of characters. We begin mainly with the Stark family; husaband and wife Eddard Stark and Catelyn, his chalk and cheese daughters Sansa, romantic and idealistic, and Ayra. Then there’s the sons – Bron and the bastard Jon Snow.
Martin’s characters are rooted in reality and the shifting viewpoint really adds to this. Whilst the narrative could descend into an ever fantastic sword and sorcery fest, we’re saved by seeing much of this world through Sansa’s eyes as a young, fair maiden swooning over the chivalric world. In contrast, Jon Snow’s is a bitter view of the world as we learn he has been shunned by his step mother and then in various forms by the rest of his family as he is drawn towards the Night’s Watch, a grim band of soldiers defending a seven hundred foot wall of ice (think of a wintery version of the foreign legion). Another major player in the drama, Tyrion Lannister, is viewed from different perspectives depending on who holds the narrative; as grotesque (a dwarf, he is known to some as “the imp”), a villain (Catelyn believes he is responsible for a murder attempt on Bran) or mentor figure (he forms an alliance of sorts with Jon).
Whilst the television series is very adult, with a high quota of sex and violence, the novels are more sedate. As an antidote of sorts, what’s more chilling is the extremities that the television version irons out. The Stark children are all much younger in the books, for example, with Robb Stark being all of thirteen years old. And the grotesque characters are all the more grotesque. David Bradley cuts a marvellous Lord Frey on screen; the novel has him as an even more horrendous figure. And Martin does with words what television can’t; the slippery Lord Varys is all quiet footsteps and the scent of perfume. In particular, Sansa’s naive belief in a knights and dragons world comes over very well on the page.
A Game of Thrones however is dull to read at times because the first series sticks so closely to events on the page, and there are few surprises. The inevitability of some events, such as the terrible death of Ned Stark, are just depressing. But the opening novel in the series does remind of key scenes that kickstart events that will happen far later on – Robb Stark foolishly going back on his deal with Lord Frey probably the most prophetic.
Having just watched the third season end to HBO’s Game of Thrones, I’m aware that the novels and television counterpart are increasingly now moving further apart. Last week’s now legendary red wedding differed from Martin’s original somewhat. With pressure on Martin to deliver the final two books in the series, and HBO committed to at least one more season, it will be interesting to see who wraps things up first. Will David Benioff and D.B. Weiss just go their own way now with the story? I just hope that Sansa gets through it all unscathed.
Run You Clever Boy
Sunday May 19, 2013
in doctor who |
The Name of The Doctor was a blessed relief as a superb finale to an incredibly patchy 7th season. This episode posed more riddles than delivered answers, and was at times confusing. But there are now two things I know:
The Name of the Doctor is John Hurt
Well, sort of.
The news was leaked recently by The Sun that John Hurt would be playing a mystery incarnation of the Doctor in November’s 50th anniversary special. This Doctor would apparently fit somewhere between Paul McGann and Christopher Eccleston in chronology, a version of himself he’d denied existence of. For perhaps a horrible reason, and the closing moments of The Name of The Doctor appeared to suggest that Matt Smith’s Doctor was somewhat afeared of John Hurt’s Doctor.
In only a very brief appearance John Hurt was I thought marvellous. Unsurprisingly a commanding presence, and matched against Tennant and Smith in November the words “eagerly anticipated” are something of an understatement. But is this a true incarnation of the Time Lord, meaning that Matt Smith is actually the 12th Doctor, or is Hurt somehow an older version of McGann’s 9th Doctor? But then why do the photos from Hurt on set show him wearing a version of the leather jacket Eccleston costume? Let the speculation begin.
Casting an older actor again after so long is interesting, and perhaps as a taster for this William Hartnell was glimpsed fleetingly throughout The Name of the Doctor. And if Hurt’s Doctor is anything to do with The Time War, it’s perhaps deliberately complimentary to Derek Jacobi’s equally elderly version of The Master?
But William Hartnell fuels my second observation…
Clara is the Doctor’s Granddaughter Susan Foreman
Season seven has been peppered with references to parents, daughters and granddaughters. Susan Foreman was referenced briefly in The Bells of Saint Joan. Clara’s past reveals that her mother died when she was young in The Rings of Akhatan. The Crimson Horror explored a particularly odd mother/daughter relationship. Probably others too that I’ve missed to add to the theme, but the clues appeared not to lead anywhere. Or to really be clues at all. And Susan Foreman is really only meaningful to either die hard or long term fans of Doctor Who. My own daughter was completely baffled by the opening scene of The Name of The Doctor, which jumps back to the pre 1963 Hartnell stealing the Tardis. Steven Moffat doesn’t let this dominate the story as it would alienate a large number of fans, but I think there is enough here to explain a core Who mystery. It’s a credit to Moffat that he’s obviously had this on his mind for some time, but keeps it secondary and subtle.
Why do I think this? In the opening scene, Clara confronts the Hartnell Doctor as he is about to steal the Tardis. He responds with a customary and typically gruff Hartnell “yes, what do you want?” Clara explains that he is about to make a terrible mistake. A couple of night watch Time Lords see two shady figures on a grainy Gallifreyan CCTV, the “found footage” of The Doctor’s very first adventure. Later in the episode, with copies of Clara now spread across space and time like confetti and a sort of understanding now spread of what’s going on with her, we see more of this encounter when she advises The Doctor to steal a different Tardis to the one he had in mind. The two of them, in my eyes, elope together on a whim. Clara really does “save” The Doctor.
Any casual internet search will return various lists of the best haunted house films. Evergreen favourites such as The Haunting and The Innocents always appear. There is also a lesser known film that features regularly, the 1980 film The Changeling starring George C. Scott.
In The Changeling Scott plays a composer called John Russell who moves from New York to Seattle following the death of his wife and child. He rents a large, dark, cobwebby mansion and soon realises this is asking for trouble when he encounters a spectral presence. Haunted by the ghost of a child, who manifests itself in the form of knocking and shattered glass, Russell slowly pieces together a murder from the past that impacts on the life of a wealthy senator (Mervyn Douglas).
Ultimately the resolution is unsatisfying, involving a weird scene between Scott and Douglas, but the film is worth catching for its careful, eerie pace and the interesting Seattle location work.
The Changeling is also memorable for one of the best seance scenes I’ve seen in cinema, and the overall feeling of the film seems very familiar in today’s crowded market of dark and dusty spooky house films – most memorably I suppose in the likes of Sinister.
Previous Page |
Next Page
