Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Trigger Warning: This contains frequent discussion of sexual assault, particularly rape
A great deal of the appeal of Game of Thrones lies in its unpredictable manipulations of our expectations for how a generic fantasy narrative should unfold. Some critics have complained about Sansa’s rape precisely because it was a predictable outcome for her and Ramsay. Such criticism simplifies the specific and ironic way in which the series is unpredictable; the violence of Game of Thrones is ironically shocking precisely because of its pragmatic logic.This contradicts our expectations that fantasy should simply fulfill our wishes and wonder for escapist entertainment. The violence of the series traumatizes us, not because it is so inconsistent with the logic of its own world, but because we expect that logic to confirm to our predefined schemas of what a typical fantasy narrative should be. We have come to expect that fantasy stories provide us with a perfect hero who can evade harm simply by virtue of being a virtuous character we are invested in. That does not make for a realistic fantasy, but merely serves to satisfy our own simplistic moral narratives.
The death of the noble Ned Stark makes perfect, if not horrific, sense within his world’s logic. But we rarely take the logic of a fantasy world seriously; instead we impose a secure narrative of moral purity, simplicity and the guarantee of a good victory. Yet despite the ruthless pragmatism that placed Sansa in the hands of Ramsay, one can still hope that she will escape this situation much as she did with Joffrey, not merely as a survivor but as a victor. Such hope is legitimate since in Game of Thrones violence only begets further violence and eventually the cruel must suffer the consequences of their actions. The violence of Game of Thrones is not gratuitous but is logical given its semi-feudal pseudo-medieval setting, and it is from this same logic that the guarantee of satisfying retribution emerges. Mere goodness or adoration does not guarantee one’s success or well-being in the real world. There is nothing wrong with such narratives so long as we understand them to be edifying entertainment fantasies. Game of Thrones strives to be something more and it needs to be appreciated on its own terms. If a critic cannot do so, they need not watch the show.
One may object to most of these counter-criticisms that they over identify the fiction rape of the character Sansa with the actual rape of real people. In criticizing the event of Sansa’s rape, one is not only commenting on a fictional account of a real phenomenon. When one claims that the event should not have been depicted to the audience or that Sansa should have exercised more agency, one is not making corresponding demands that actual rapes be ignored or that rape victims should be expected to do more to avoid sexual assault. Despite the reasonableness of this retort, I think it misunderstands the project of Game of Thrones and realist fiction in general. Of course Sansa is a fictional character and of course the series she is a character of is a fantasy while rape is a troubling reality. But Game of Thrones is a realistic portrayal of fantasy, critiquing the genre as if it was real and as such Sansa should be related to as if she were a real person.
In realistic fiction, we relate to the characters as if they were people not merely ideas or archetypes. The latter is the sort of literature which pre-fantasy fables belongs to, the narrative being determined by moral ideology rather than the personal psychology of its characters. When one criticizes the rape of Sansa they are not merely criticizing the way in which Sansa was written but are criticizing her as a fictional person, as if she were a real person. By extension they are criticizing (unintentionally) any real person in circumstances similar to hers who do not live up to the same unrealistic standards imposed upon them by a judgmental audience. One can plainly assert that rape is not necessary to fantasy fiction and they would be right. There are enough fantasy stories without it that are worthy of our attention. But rape was a necessary part of a woman’s life in much of the medieval worlds that these fantasy stories romanticize. To the extent that Game of Thrones is a realistic fantasy criticism of the patriarchal romanticism within its own genre, it is necessary to confront the issue of rape.
Nothing is necessary as a narrative device, and fictional narratives themselves, especially fantastical ones such as Game of Thrones, are not necessary either. If you don’t like the grim realism of Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, don’t watch and read respectively. If you don’t like the fantasy genre in general, don’t immerse yourself in it. If you are going to criticize any of it, ensure that you have good arguments that are sound and actually support the perspective you purport to represent. Unfortunately, much of the seemingly feminist arguments against this scene are not reasonable, and actually appear to undermine the feminism they speak for. Looked at in the wider context of what a Game of Thrones and Sansa in particular are subverting in the fictional genre of fantasy, these criticisms can unfortunately themselves be construed as sexist and patriarchal.
What began as criticism of sexism inherent in Game of Thrones ironically turned out to be the revelation of sexism implicit in such criticism. The patriarchy certainly works in strange ways. This is not to suggest that the approach Game of Thrones takes to misogyny in fantasy is superior to that taken in works such as Mad Max, but it is merely a defense that the former is not inferior to the latter. One operates through the hero and the other the victim, but both narratives are essential to confront misogyny. If we refuse to recognize and represent victimization, whether in fantasy or reality, we alienate those that suffer sexual abuse. Such abandonment is antithetical to feminism, where the voice of every woman deserves to be witnessed, especially the victims of male domination.
Nothing is necessary as a narrative device, and fictional narratives themselves, especially fantastical ones such as Game of Thrones, are not necessary either. If you don’t like the grim realism of Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, don’t watch and read respectively. If you don’t like the fantasy genre in general, don’t immerse yourself in it. If you are going to criticize any of it, ensure that you have good arguments that are sound and actually support the perspective you purport to represent. Unfortunately, much of the seemingly feminist arguments against this scene are not reasonable, and actually appear to undermine the feminism they speak for. Looked at in the wider context of what a Game of Thrones and Sansa in particular are subverting in the fictional genre of fantasy, these criticisms can unfortunately themselves be construed as sexist and patriarchal.
What began as criticism of sexism inherent in Game of Thrones ironically turned out to be the revelation of sexism implicit in such criticism. The patriarchy certainly works in strange ways. This is not to suggest that the approach Game of Thrones takes to misogyny in fantasy is superior to that taken in works such as Mad Max, but it is merely a defense that the former is not inferior to the latter. One operates through the hero and the other the victim, but both narratives are essential to confront misogyny. If we refuse to recognize and represent victimization, whether in fantasy or reality, we alienate those that suffer sexual abuse. Such abandonment is antithetical to feminism, where the voice of every woman deserves to be witnessed, especially the victims of male domination.
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