Cold Open: Thoughts on the Prologue of "A Game of Thrones"
Any good story starts on the first page; but in the case of A Song of Ice and Fire, it doesn't always start with our main character (or main/POV characters). In fact, one of the most unusual trends of the series—one that focuses on its POV characters, and their thoughts—is that we begin each book with the viewpoint of a comparatively inconsequential character, one that we won't be returning to see (at least in the same fashion) in the story to follow. So, for a core series that spans roughly five thousand pages, why spend any time on any characters who are doomed to die ten to fifteen pages later? The answer to that lies in the author's craft, or craftiness even.
It's no mystery that George R.R. Martin has screenwriting chops, having previously written for the television series Beauty and the Beast from 1987-1990. A common trend for television shows is to preface the show with a vignette related to the story, to drop the viewer into the world with a cold open. In television, this is done with the more mercenary interest in grabbing the audience's attention, to deter them from switching to another program. Thematically, it also sets the tone for what is to follow. (Considering that most of the prologue chapters take place in the cold of the north, what could be a more appropriate name for it than a “cold open”?) Even the television show, A Game of Thrones, begins with a cold open directly adapted from the prologue chapter—although Will and Gared's fates are interchanged.
The prologue chapters also serve to set the tone for the novel to follow, as something of a preamble or like that of a pantomime. Although the prologues themselves do not “spoil” what is to come any more than any other content of the story, it establishes certain events, moods, and even power structures that will ultimately play a much larger role to come. For instance, in the prologue for A Game of Thrones, we are introduced (albeit briefly) to Gared, while following the unfortunate plight of Will and their “illustrious leader”, Ser Waymar Royce, the latter of whom meets a grisly end, stabbed at the point of many blades composed of ice—the end result of his overconfidence in his leadership abilities. Only pages later, we are introduced to the Starks, where Gared himself is slain by a blade called “Ice”. While it is far from the only treachery in the series, at the end of A Dance With Dragons this scene is revisited in part when Commander Jon Snow, now leader of the Night's Watch, is stabbed repeatedly into the cold snow. Although it is unclear as to Lord Snow's ultimate fate, if we consider Waymar Royce's fate, it does not bode well for him.
The failed ranging of Waymar Royce sets off a train of events that—in some ways—lead directly to the assassination of Jon Snow, and hint at the possibility of what will become of him. After Royce, Benjen Stark is sent to uncover what happened to his missing brother in black; he, too, goes missing, leading to Jeor Mormont's expedition beyond the wall, with Jon as steward. After Mormont is slain during the mutiny at Craster's Keep, Jon eventually ascends to Lord Commander; though—like Mormont—his unpopular decisions result in his apparent death. Although Benjen Stark has been one of the series' greatest unknown quantities, one rumor holds that he might be the wight who assists Bran, one who refers to Samwell as “brother”, one called “Coldhands”. While only a rumor, it certainly suggests Coldhands was a member of the Night's Watch—his garb reinforcing that notion—but also highlights an unfortunately consistent fate for members of this doomed fraternity: to rise as an Other, though perhaps with varying degrees of cognizance or coherence. And what does this portend for Jon Snow? Given the fate of his brethren, it would not come as a surprise if a “resurrection” of sorts awaited him, be it through the breath of R'hllor by Melisandre, one of the newest additions to Castle Black's denizens, or by the force that drives the Others, like Coldhands. Fire and ice, indeed.
Consider how do we start this epic series: with the Night's Watch and the Others. And what does that say for the series as a whole? Like the keening clash of ice against steel, it sets a tone that subconsciously sticks with the reader, one that might get muddied in the Machiavellian machinations of the throne-swapping and civil war: that is the supernatural exists and is an imminent threat. Setting this expectation early for the reader is key, because while the events of King's Landing are no less interesting without it, the reader can enjoy a sense of dramatic irony, knowing that the Others are indeed a menace lurking in the shadows of the story.
Aside from the Others, who are our ill-fated envoys into the cold world beyond the wall? In the case of Will and Waymar Royce, a criminal drafted into a hard life for his minor crime, and a lordling seeking glory, respectively. This dynamic establishes a clear class structure in Westeros, even without having to spell it out in great detail, and highlights the disparity and attitudes between the nobility and the common man present in this feudal setting. The sense about the classes that the reader gets is that the nobility is out of touch and unrealistic, while the common man is subject to their whims—to fight their wars and obey foolhardy commands—all while forced to adapt to their situation or die. Consider this attitude established when Jon Snow, a member of a noble house like Royce before him (even if he is illegitimate), enlists in the Night's Watch, and the way that he's treated in light of what happened to Royce on his ranging. In the company of criminals, the nobility is the minority; aside from Jon's good nature, this also justifies why Jon and Samwell Tarly become good friends, and further infuriates characters like Alliser Thorne. While not the most endearing of characters, Ser Alliser could at least be empathized with for his cynicism in light of Royce's failed command, with Jon and Sam both being noble and untried recruits. While Jon and Sam volunteered to enter the Night's Watch (even though they were not forced to do so), Alliser was both nobility and a criminal, his crime having fought on the losing side of Robert's Rebellion. Even from the prologue and dynamic between Royce and Will, it is clear: there are haves and have-nots, and rarely will the two see eye to eye.
In the wake of poisoned kings and murdered Hands, of cloaks gold and black, there is still an even more sinister threat lurking in legends. This address of the supernatural or magical comes full circle at the conclusion of the first book in the series when Daenerys commits herself to the funeral pyre of Khal Drogo (as well as that of Mirri Maz Duur). And while we have reason to suspect that Dany is imbued with the “blood of the dragon” and would resist the flame, at this point we might also have dispelled the idea that the supernatural exists. Had it not been for our prologue chapter, we might consider this an act of suicide born of grief, as the first book is especially notable for having a dearth of supernatural elements, in contrast with the later books. But when Daenerys Targaryen emerges unburnt from the flames, the hatchling dragons suckling at her breast, the first book closes with the reminder that in the world of Westeros and beyond, legends are real. And “the song of ice and fire” takes on a more literal quality as this fiery ending contrasts with the icy beginning.
One of Martin's exceptional talents is his pacing; like a conductor of a grand symphony, he builds to events, step by step, and forges his fantastical chain link by link. While A Game of Thrones is book-ended by (arguably) the only two supernatural events in the first volume, it is still merely a precursor of what is to come. Consider how far along in the realm of fantasy we are by the time we reach A Dance With Dragons. When we reach the most recent addition to the series we have encountered greenseers and skinchangers, probable necromancy in the form of Ser Robert Strong, magic horns capable of bringing down The Wall (in theory) and bringing dragons to submission (also in theory), as well as warlocks and faceless men. Perhaps the most vivid displays of the supernatural are the powers of the red priests (and through them, R'hllor), such as resurrection, precognition, fiery swords, and fiery hands, in the case of Victarion Greyjoy; not to mention Melisandre's own skill at illusion, shadowbinding, and who knows what else given her near-obsession with royal blood. Even still, all of this magic is ancillary to the great looming threat established in the first several pages at the onset: the Others. By the time we are due for our final confrontation with the true threat beyond the wall, its existence—and the existence of magic and the supernatural—will be ingrained into our expectations without further resistance, in part because we have been “in on it” from the very beginning. No doubt we as readers will be far better prepared than the unwitting world of Westeros itself.
[Web address for original publication: https://towerofthehand.com/blog/2014/06/09-cold-open-thoughts-prologue/index.html]
It's no mystery that George R.R. Martin has screenwriting chops, having previously written for the television series Beauty and the Beast from 1987-1990. A common trend for television shows is to preface the show with a vignette related to the story, to drop the viewer into the world with a cold open. In television, this is done with the more mercenary interest in grabbing the audience's attention, to deter them from switching to another program. Thematically, it also sets the tone for what is to follow. (Considering that most of the prologue chapters take place in the cold of the north, what could be a more appropriate name for it than a “cold open”?) Even the television show, A Game of Thrones, begins with a cold open directly adapted from the prologue chapter—although Will and Gared's fates are interchanged.
The prologue chapters also serve to set the tone for the novel to follow, as something of a preamble or like that of a pantomime. Although the prologues themselves do not “spoil” what is to come any more than any other content of the story, it establishes certain events, moods, and even power structures that will ultimately play a much larger role to come. For instance, in the prologue for A Game of Thrones, we are introduced (albeit briefly) to Gared, while following the unfortunate plight of Will and their “illustrious leader”, Ser Waymar Royce, the latter of whom meets a grisly end, stabbed at the point of many blades composed of ice—the end result of his overconfidence in his leadership abilities. Only pages later, we are introduced to the Starks, where Gared himself is slain by a blade called “Ice”. While it is far from the only treachery in the series, at the end of A Dance With Dragons this scene is revisited in part when Commander Jon Snow, now leader of the Night's Watch, is stabbed repeatedly into the cold snow. Although it is unclear as to Lord Snow's ultimate fate, if we consider Waymar Royce's fate, it does not bode well for him.
The failed ranging of Waymar Royce sets off a train of events that—in some ways—lead directly to the assassination of Jon Snow, and hint at the possibility of what will become of him. After Royce, Benjen Stark is sent to uncover what happened to his missing brother in black; he, too, goes missing, leading to Jeor Mormont's expedition beyond the wall, with Jon as steward. After Mormont is slain during the mutiny at Craster's Keep, Jon eventually ascends to Lord Commander; though—like Mormont—his unpopular decisions result in his apparent death. Although Benjen Stark has been one of the series' greatest unknown quantities, one rumor holds that he might be the wight who assists Bran, one who refers to Samwell as “brother”, one called “Coldhands”. While only a rumor, it certainly suggests Coldhands was a member of the Night's Watch—his garb reinforcing that notion—but also highlights an unfortunately consistent fate for members of this doomed fraternity: to rise as an Other, though perhaps with varying degrees of cognizance or coherence. And what does this portend for Jon Snow? Given the fate of his brethren, it would not come as a surprise if a “resurrection” of sorts awaited him, be it through the breath of R'hllor by Melisandre, one of the newest additions to Castle Black's denizens, or by the force that drives the Others, like Coldhands. Fire and ice, indeed.
Consider how do we start this epic series: with the Night's Watch and the Others. And what does that say for the series as a whole? Like the keening clash of ice against steel, it sets a tone that subconsciously sticks with the reader, one that might get muddied in the Machiavellian machinations of the throne-swapping and civil war: that is the supernatural exists and is an imminent threat. Setting this expectation early for the reader is key, because while the events of King's Landing are no less interesting without it, the reader can enjoy a sense of dramatic irony, knowing that the Others are indeed a menace lurking in the shadows of the story.
Aside from the Others, who are our ill-fated envoys into the cold world beyond the wall? In the case of Will and Waymar Royce, a criminal drafted into a hard life for his minor crime, and a lordling seeking glory, respectively. This dynamic establishes a clear class structure in Westeros, even without having to spell it out in great detail, and highlights the disparity and attitudes between the nobility and the common man present in this feudal setting. The sense about the classes that the reader gets is that the nobility is out of touch and unrealistic, while the common man is subject to their whims—to fight their wars and obey foolhardy commands—all while forced to adapt to their situation or die. Consider this attitude established when Jon Snow, a member of a noble house like Royce before him (even if he is illegitimate), enlists in the Night's Watch, and the way that he's treated in light of what happened to Royce on his ranging. In the company of criminals, the nobility is the minority; aside from Jon's good nature, this also justifies why Jon and Samwell Tarly become good friends, and further infuriates characters like Alliser Thorne. While not the most endearing of characters, Ser Alliser could at least be empathized with for his cynicism in light of Royce's failed command, with Jon and Sam both being noble and untried recruits. While Jon and Sam volunteered to enter the Night's Watch (even though they were not forced to do so), Alliser was both nobility and a criminal, his crime having fought on the losing side of Robert's Rebellion. Even from the prologue and dynamic between Royce and Will, it is clear: there are haves and have-nots, and rarely will the two see eye to eye.
In the wake of poisoned kings and murdered Hands, of cloaks gold and black, there is still an even more sinister threat lurking in legends. This address of the supernatural or magical comes full circle at the conclusion of the first book in the series when Daenerys commits herself to the funeral pyre of Khal Drogo (as well as that of Mirri Maz Duur). And while we have reason to suspect that Dany is imbued with the “blood of the dragon” and would resist the flame, at this point we might also have dispelled the idea that the supernatural exists. Had it not been for our prologue chapter, we might consider this an act of suicide born of grief, as the first book is especially notable for having a dearth of supernatural elements, in contrast with the later books. But when Daenerys Targaryen emerges unburnt from the flames, the hatchling dragons suckling at her breast, the first book closes with the reminder that in the world of Westeros and beyond, legends are real. And “the song of ice and fire” takes on a more literal quality as this fiery ending contrasts with the icy beginning.
One of Martin's exceptional talents is his pacing; like a conductor of a grand symphony, he builds to events, step by step, and forges his fantastical chain link by link. While A Game of Thrones is book-ended by (arguably) the only two supernatural events in the first volume, it is still merely a precursor of what is to come. Consider how far along in the realm of fantasy we are by the time we reach A Dance With Dragons. When we reach the most recent addition to the series we have encountered greenseers and skinchangers, probable necromancy in the form of Ser Robert Strong, magic horns capable of bringing down The Wall (in theory) and bringing dragons to submission (also in theory), as well as warlocks and faceless men. Perhaps the most vivid displays of the supernatural are the powers of the red priests (and through them, R'hllor), such as resurrection, precognition, fiery swords, and fiery hands, in the case of Victarion Greyjoy; not to mention Melisandre's own skill at illusion, shadowbinding, and who knows what else given her near-obsession with royal blood. Even still, all of this magic is ancillary to the great looming threat established in the first several pages at the onset: the Others. By the time we are due for our final confrontation with the true threat beyond the wall, its existence—and the existence of magic and the supernatural—will be ingrained into our expectations without further resistance, in part because we have been “in on it” from the very beginning. No doubt we as readers will be far better prepared than the unwitting world of Westeros itself.
[Web address for original publication: https://towerofthehand.com/blog/2014/06/09-cold-open-thoughts-prologue/index.html]