Game of Thones: An Apologia

There are no spoilers below that I can baldly identify, but this post is meant for readers who are caught up to Episode 6, "Blood of my Blood".

It first sent a ripple of doubt through you, then one of fear. One Sunday passed. Another. And no Game of Thrones recap in sight.

It occurred to me before I began that recaps and I are singularly at odds. The layout of a story is intriguing to me: but a recap suggests a linear transport back through the story, and if you want to go back Three-Eyed-Raven-style and live it again, there are far pithier hands already to the task (and a dozen or so online platforms to help you recreate each previous episode frame-by-frame by actually letting you go back and watch the episode over). David Silvester and linearity are not fast bedfellows. We had a thing in college and we keep in touch, but we don't get together now without a couple other people there. Recaps are not particularly pinkum of me, so without fanfare or adieu, I ditched them.

And yet, dear, GoT-addicted readers, you must not wail and gnash your teeth. Of COURSE I'm caught up! Of COURSE I want to talk all about Hodor, and storytelling in adaptation, and how the seamless evolution into the superfantastic is a perfect example of Harry Hardiner's Explosionism... But a recap is not, strictly speaking, the place for that kind of conversation. 

So in lieu of further recap posts, I will soon be posting other types of essays, analytical, speculative, dealing chiefly at first with Game of Thrones, but later branching off into other dramatic and literary works. There you are, readers—you're caught up on my thought processes. Do not despair: we've got a few more weeks left of a penultimate season, and there's plenty to write about before and after its finale!