The Jon Snow ReRead Project! Part 3!

[butterbumps!]

Welcome to the Jon Snow reread project! Co-conspirating this mission are Lummel and Ragnorak; we aim to present summaries for each of the 47 Jon chapters at a rate of about 1 per week (more or less) in order to reread, analyze and be critical. The last chapter we discussed in the previous thread was Sam II, aSoS, aka, “Mutiny at Craster’s.”

This isn’t an appreciation thread, but rather, a space to look beyond the broad strokes of Jon’s arc to bring the subtleties of his character into greater relief for discussion. (Similarly, unsubstantiated criticism is strongly discouraged). This isn’t about winning over sides, but impartial analytical discussion.

Please feel free to read along and post your reactions to the chapter or just anything that strikes you as interesting or odd. GRRM's choice of words, a parallel in another chapter or even another POV, references, allusions or foreshadowings - it all adds to the conversation.

For the best possible discussion, we ask the following:

Please DON’T: Analyze future chapters. References to future events are fine but otherwise stick with the current or past chapters.

Please DON’T: Snipe with someone you disagree with – it's boring for everyone else and spoils the thread. State your opinion, give your evidence and agree to differ.

Please DO: Compare and contrast with other POVs. GRRM is fond of creating parallel scenes and role reversals.

Please DO: Show the support in the text for your views.

chapter links!

aGoT

aGoT Jon I (King's banquet at Winterfell)
aGoT Jon II (Jon says goodbyes to his family)
aGoT Jon III (At the Wall, Donal lectures Jon; Jon receives news of Bran)
aGoT Jon IV (Sam arrives; Jon reveals his dream of the crypts)
aGoT Jon V (Jon is told he's promoted; appeals to Aemon on behalf of Sam)
aGoT Jon VI (Sam is promoted; Jon and Sam take their vows; Ghost finds a hand)
aGoT Jon VII (ranging party studies bodies of Othor and Jafer; crypt dream; Jon gets news of Ned's treason; Jon fights Othor the wight)
aGoT Jon VIII (Jon gets Longclaw; news of Robb's march; Aemon's "love is the bane of honor" conversation)
AGOT Jon IX (Jon attempts to skedaddle but is prevented by his friends, Mormont reveals that he is going to lead a mini-army north of the Wall)
AGOT Roundup

aCoK
ACOK Jon I (Preparations for the expedition at the Wall, Mormont has an infodump of Targaryen history for Jon)
ACOK Jon II (Mormont's expedition reaches Whitetree)
ACOK Jon III (The expedition reaches Craster's)
ACOK Jon IV (Expedition reaches the fist of the first men)
ACOK Jon V (Qhorin arrives and leaves with Jon to range further north)
ACOK Jon VI (Jon's first date with Ygritte)
ACOK Jon VII (Jon in the Skirling Pass, his wolf dream, connection to Bran)
ACOK Jon VIII (Qhorin's sacrifice and Jon goes Wildling)
ACOK Roundup

aSoS
ASOS Prologue
ASOS Jon I (Jon meets The Mance)

ASOS Jon II (Jon shaken and stirred, delivered to the Mance at the Fist of First Men

ASOS Sam I (Sam the Slayer)

ASOS Jon III (Jon, wandering in and around Ygritte's cave, invents the Lord's Kiss)

ASOS Jon IV (Jon goes over the Wall, Jarl has a great fall, there no king's men or king's horses to put him together again)

ASOS Sam II (death of Mormont, Sam and Gilly, cutting the onion)

ASOS Jon II (arrival at Queenscrown; Jon escapes the wildlings and heads to Castle Black to warn of the attack)

ASOS Sam III (Sam and Gilly survive a wight attack; Coldhands is introduced)

ASOS Jon VI (Injured, Jon arrives at the Wall; informs of the Magnar's attack; learns Winterfell was sacked)

ASOS Jon VII (Styr's wildlings attack; Ygritte is killed)

ASOS Jon VIII (wildlings attack from the North; Donal dies; another crypt dream (RW clue)

ASOS Jon IX (the Watch repels a wildling advance; Jon is arrested by Slynt for desertion)

ASOS Jon X (Jon is sent to kill Mance; Stannis arrives at the Wall, defeating the wildlings)

ASOS Sam IV (Sam has returned; Stannis plans to burn Mance; Sam is concerned about the LC elections and seeks a solution).

ASOS Jon XI (Stannis offers Jon Winterfell with conditions; Stannis announces his wildling plans)

ASOS Sam V (Stannis meets with the LC contenders; Sam rigs the election)

ASOS Jon XII (Ghost returns; Jon decides to reject Stannis' offer; Jon is made LC)

[butterbumps!]

intermediary chapters

(Sam II – Jon V)

Davos IV

Davos is taken from the dungeons to speak with Stannis, at which point he is named Hand of the King. The relevance of this chapter is in the conversation that follows between Mel, Stannis and Davos, as this begins to intersect Jon’s arc.

Stannis relays his intention to fight the darkness, as Melisandre has begun naming the true enemy:

“It is the great battle His Grace is speaking of,” said a woman’s voice, rich with the accents of the east. Melisandre stood at the door in her red silks and shimmering satins, holding a covered silver dish in her hands. “These little wars are no more than a scuffle of children before what is to come. The one whose name may not be spoken is marshaling his power, Davos Seaworth, a power fell and evil and strong beyond measure. Soon comes the cold, and the night that never ends.” She placed the silver dish on the Painted Table. “Unless true men find the courage to fight it. Men whose hearts are fire.”

Both Stannis and Mel have seen visions of the battle at the Fist of First Men, and Melisandre believes that this portends the beginning of a new war between light and dark:

“With mine own eyes. After the battle, when I was lost to despair, the Lady Melisandre bid me gaze into the hearthfire. The chimney was drawing strongly, and bits of ash were rising from the fire. I stared at them, feeling half a fool, but she bid me look deeper, and . . . the ashes were white, rising in the updraft, yet all at once it seemed as if they were falling. Snow, I thought. Then the sparks in the air seemed to circle, to become a ring of torches, and I was looking through the fire down on some high hill in a forest. The cinders had become men in black behind the torches, and there were shapes moving through the snow. For all the heat of the fire, I felt a cold so terrible I shivered, and when I did the sight was gone, the fire but a fire once again. But what I saw was real, I’d stake my kingdom on it.”

At this stage it seems that Mel, Stannis and Davos do not understand that these men are of the Night’s Watch; instead, Mel and Stannis believe that this is a sign that the realm must rally behind its true king in order to face this enemy unified. The chapter closes with Stannis tossing Edric’s leeches into the fire, naming the 3 remaining kings.

Jaime V

In the bath house of Harrenhal, Jaime reveals the true story of the sack to Brienne, and afterwards, shares dinner with a newly-turned Roose. I think this is a useful complementary chapter to Jon, as Jaime discusses his kingslaying in more depth, presenting his rationale for breaking his oath as done for the greater good.

Of particular interest is that through Jaime’s retelling, it becomes apparent that he took half-measures in his oathbreaking, and this is perhaps what cursed him. Jaime made the decision to prevent Kings Landing from becoming Aerys “funeral pyre,” and chose his golden armor rather than the KG white, which would theoretically detach his actions from his official duty. Yet, he also wore the white cloak of his office during the kingslaying, which signifies that he was operating in his official Kings Guarding capacity when killing the king and erasing any distance the golden armor may have conceptually afforded him.

He also reveals why he never told anyone the truth of his dilemma afterwards. Brienne seems to accept that removing Aerys was preferable to letting Kings Landing burn, and asks why he never told anyone, suggesting that she believes the truth might put this kingslaying into a new context. Jaime confesses that he never told because the Kingsguard is supposed to keep the king’s secrets, and that this would have been further oathbreaking on top of the oath he broke killing the king. I see this as another half measure, in that he’s already broken his main vow, and that to keep these other ones after the fact seems to be an empty adherence to a duty he’d already negated. Further, the fact that he knew there was wildfire stored under Kings Landing is really something that should have been brought to someone’s attention, as the danger of explosion has been hidden due to his secrecy, and could have caused the very tragedy he killed Aerys to prevent in the first place.

I’m somewhat anticipating an intersection of Jon and Jaime in the future, and I wonder about this passage about judgment in relation to such a meeting:

“The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king’s secrets. Would you have me break my oath?” Jaime laughed. “Do you think the noble Lord of Winterfell wanted to hear my feeble explanations? Such an honorable man. He only had to look at me to judge me guilty.” Jaime lurched to his feet, the water running cold down his chest. “By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?”

Bran III

This is part one of a two-chapter “mini-series” culminating in Jon V. Bran’s party arrives at Queenscrown to take refuge, and runs into Jon and the wildling band during a storm.

From Bran, we get some background on the Gift:

“The Night’s Watch,” he answered. “This is the Gift. The New Gift, and north of that Brandon’s Gift.” Maester Luwin had taught him the history. “Brandon the Builder gave all the land south of the Wall to the black brothers, to a distance of twenty-five leagues. For their . . . for their sustenance and support.” He was proud that he still remembered that part. “Some maesters say it was some other Brandon, not the Builder, but it’s still Brandon’s Gift. Thousands of years later, Good Queen Alysanne visited the Wall on her dragon Silverwing, and she thought the Night’s Watch was so brave that she had the Old King double the size of their lands, to fifty leagues. So that was the New Gift.” He waved a hand. “Here. All this.”

the Watch

The ghost castles, Old Nan had called them. Maester Luwin had once made Bran learn the names of every one of the forts along the Wall. That had been hard; there were nineteen of them all told, though no more than seventeen had ever been manned at any one time. At the feast in honor of King Robert’s visit to Winterfell, Bran had recited the names for his uncle Benjen, east to west and then west to east. Benjen Stark had laughed and said, “You know them better than I do, Bran. Perhaps you should be First Ranger. I’ll stay here in your place.” That was before Bran fell, though. Before he was broken. By the time he’d woken crippled from his sleep, his uncle had gone back to Castle Black. “My uncle said the gates were sealed with ice and stone whenever a castle had to be abandoned,” said Bran.

and wildlings

“They were afraid of the wildlings,” said Bran. “Wildlings come over the Wall or through the mountains, to raid and steal and carry off women. If they catch you, they make your skull into a cup to drink blood, Old Nan used to say. The Night’s Watch isn’t so strong as it was in Brandon’s day or Queen Alysanne’s, so more get through. The places nearest the Wall got raided so much the smallfolk moved south, into the mountains or onto the Umber lands east of the kingsroad. The Greatjon’s people get raided too, but not so much as the people who used to live in the Gift.”

Night falls, a storm begins, and the party becomes aware of more men in the village. The chapter ends as Bran slips into Summer’s skin, stalking the group of men, including Jon, around a fire.

[butterbumps!]

Jon V

overview

Jon and the wildling party are in the New Gift heading south. Along the way he and Ygritte discuss their cultural differences, and he reflects on how thoroughly wildling she is. Jon’s been looking for an opening to escape and warn Castle Black; given the compromised state of the Watch, Jon fears that if the Wall is attacked without warning, it will be an unmitigated disaster. Compounding his stress, Jon’s finding it increasingly difficult to betray many of the wildlings he’s gotten to know.

One of the wildlings senses a storm coming, and the party decides to shelter at nearby town, revealed to be Queenscrown. They arrive at the abandoned village in the midst of the storm; some of the wildlings believe they can hear screams from the tower, which we know to be Hodor. Jon and Ygritte sit alone talking some more until a Thenn summons Jon to kill an innocent bystander at Styr’s command. Jon refuses to kill the man, despite Ygritte’s insistence that he must prove his loyalty. When Styr calls them “a crow and a crow wife,” Ygritte angrily steps in and kills the man in order to renounce her “crow” ties.

As lightening strikes, a huge wolf (Summer) leaps into the party and begins attacking the men. Jon seizes the opportunity and makes for the dead man’s horse, slashing at anyone who gets in his way. After a few hours of riding, he realizes that he’s been shot. In agony, he removes the arrow and considers whether it could have been Ygritte’s arrow. He reflects on the wolf that appeared, thinking it looked like Grey Wind. Committed to warning the Watch of the party, he finds the Ice Dragon and begins heading north.

observations

• Some good anti-Bowen ammunition: “He’s the man you want in front when the foes are in the field,” Edd would say in his usual dour voice. “He’ll count them right up for you. A regular demon for counting, that one.”
  
• the Wall seems to block warging abilities: Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off.
  
• Queen Alysanne history; I find the part about having business to discuss with the Starks curious: “A queen stayed there for a night.” Old Nan had told him the story, but Maester Luwin had confirmed most of it. “Alysanne, the wife of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator. He’s called the Old King because he reigned so long, but he was young when he first came to the Iron Throne. In those days, it was his wont to travel all over the realm. When he came to Winterfell, he brought his queen, six dragons, and half his court. The king had matters to discuss with his Warden of the North, and Alysanne grew bored, so she mounted her dragon Silverwing and flew north to see the Wall. This village was one of the places where she stopped. Afterward the smallfolk painted the top of their holdfast to look like the golden crown she’d worn when she spent the night among them.”
  
• I’m continually baffled by Ygritte’s desire to tear down the Wall, as she must surely understand that this structure is not just a wildling measure, but part of the defense plan for keeping the Others away.
  

analysis

cultural exchange

This is the first time we get something akin to a full philosophical discussion on the differences between wildlings and kneelers (the form of inquiry and answer reminds me of Xaro and Dany’s discussion on slavery in DwD, which in turn reminds me of the structure of Plato’s Republic). Martin uses this method pretty sparingly; Stannis and Davos debates (somewhat), and Tyrion and Tywin’s plotting discussions are the only other similar instances I can recall off-hand. Most often we get a character’s digested reflections on a previous conversation or point of disagreement, and through this, we tend to be persuaded toward the POV’s interpretation. But when the discussion is presented as this sort of “Glaucon and Socrates” inquiry, I think it encourages us to look more broadly and critically at the philosophical issues under debate, leaving the answers more open-ended.

From previous Jon chapters, we’ve already gotten a fairly clear picture of the wildlings’ value system through his recollections; broadly, they believe in freedom at the expense of discipline. Though they speak in terms of “freedom” and “discipline,” the duality they’re actually appealing to is the conflict between individual liberty and order. In truth, both Jon and Ygritte believe in “freedom,” but they view freedom itself from different perspectives. The wildlings pride themselves on a freedom to act, while the kneelers support a freedom from having to act.

This tension between liberty and order is far more relevant throughout the series than merely with respect to “kneelers and wildlings;” it’s precisely the conflict set up by the Ironborn and Dothraki, and certainly present in the chaos of war within the realm, as well as the question of honor versus pragmatics. I don’t think it’s an accident that this discussion is set during the planning stages of the Red Wedding, which will trample on any notion of respect for social order in favor of opportunism. I think this chapter emphasizes a number of questions we’re meant to consider in terms of not perhaps not accepting the Westerosi status quo as a positive outcome.

We’re walked through some of the trade-offs between liberty and order, starting with society’s ability to create; some of it’s obvious, but perhaps worthwhile to articulate. From the Ironborn and Dothraki, we’ve already seen how civilizations that “do not sow” tend not to achieve architectural advancements, and the wildlings are no different. Ygritte and others are vastly impressed by a simple beacon tower, desiring to someday live in such a place, thinking it’s greater luxury than they’ve ever known. Jon tries to explain that the tower is nothing special compared to the true architectural achievements of the realm, and that the tower was erected as part of a defense system against wildling raiders. So in addition to the fact that an ordered society builds, it’s also not “every man for himself,” as there’s a system in place for dedicated fighters to come defend those who cannot fight for themselves. Yet now, this system has broken down, and the Gift has been abandoned. To Ygritte, anyone who does not or cannot defend their own property is a coward, but Jon appeals to, essentially, the lack of sustainability such a system would entail:

“They were cowards, then. If they wanted the land they should have stayed and fought.”

“Maybe they were tired of fighting. Tired of barring their doors every night and wondering if Rattleshirt or someone like him would break them down to carry off their wives. Tired of having their harvests stolen, and any valuables they might have. It’s easier to move beyond the reach of raiders.” But if the Wall should fail, all the north will lie within the reach of raiders.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow. Daughters are taken, not wives. You’re the ones who steal. You took the whole world, and built the Wall t’ keep the free folk out.”

The wildlings aren’t nomadic, and ostensibly, they did plant and raise livestock, so I’m not certain that they’re truly so different than most smallfolk in the realm. There are also clan chiefs, like the Magnar, Varamyr and Tormund, who oversee their people and keep some degree of order. And it’s clear that not everyone is capable of fighting. In terms of major contrasts, there’s a sense of equality in that birth order does not dictate one’s lot, but rather “might makes right,” and there’s a choice in which side one wants to follow. From the way Ygritte talks, you’d think they were worlds apart, yet, in practice, the wildlings are pretty much the same as what we’re seeing with the kneelers, but simply starting from a different conceptual framework of power.

Ygritte presents the concept of ownership as something men invented that corrupts the natural order. Her claim is that the world was meant to be shared communally, but with the erection of walls, boundaries and ownership, those who created this new order are the true thieves. She puts the blame into a historical context, suggesting that this artificial order has an extrinsic essence that has been applied to natural order, that is, order such as this is not only cowardly and weak, but against human nature. Bear in mind, though, Ygritte just confessed to wanting to own her own castle someday; clearly, the desire to own and delimit is not so far from human nature as she wants to present:

“The gods made the earth for all men t’ share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. My trees, they said, you can’t eat them apples. My stream, you can’t fish here. My wood, you’re not t’ hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I’ll chop ’em off, but maybe if you kneel t’ me I’ll let you have a sniff. You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t’ be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t’ kneel.”

The way wildlings see marriage and coupling is highly problematic to both Westerosi values as well as our own. What we see as “rape,” they see as desirable in terms of natural selection. We’ve already learned that intra-clan procreation is frowned upon as a means of avoiding incest, so “daughter-theft” is a method of ensuring hearty stock; a man who can manage to steal a woman away from her clan is considered worthy, and therefore, the match is consensual in their eyes.

I think Ygritte hits a really solid point when she counters with the concept of arranged marriage, and despite their specific method of “courting,” I actually think the wildling way is closer to our modern stance as compared to the kneelers’. A woman and her clan resist a union until a worthy suitor presents himself by taking her; conversely, a lady is given to a man regardless of individual merit or procreative health, but based on advancing some kind of political goal within the greater system of order and power. And unlike the wildlings, a lady does not have the option to slit the man’s throat in the night (in theory, as Lysa and Cersei definitely took the “wildling way” out of their unhappy marriages). We’re told throughout the series of the perils involving marriages for love, and that performing one’s duty to sacrifice personal happiness in favor of advancing a greater goal is the preferred way. Yet, a passage like this should perhaps caution us against seeing this as a strict dichotomy, as arranged marriages have been no less perilous to the overall order.

“A man can own a woman or a man can own a knife,” Ygritte told him, “but no man can own both. Every little girl learns that from her mother.” She raised her chin defiantly and gave her thick red hair a shake. “And men can’t own the land no more’n they can own the sea or the sky. You kneelers think you do, but Mance is going t’ show you different.”

Though, broadly speaking, I think Ygritte makes better points on marriage, I think Jon’s view of strength is closer to the truth than hers, but with a catch. He returns to the balance between liberty and order by pointing out the lack of discipline in the wildling forces. A unified group, trained and ordered, presents a much stronger force yielding a different sort of “might makes right.” At the large scale, individual might simply can’t compete with unified obedience. Ok, granted. But, what happens when the people are just so sick of fighting for lords they begin to assert their individual autonomy as we start seeing in the Riverland chapters throughout aSoS and FFC? I think this chapter articulates some of the currents we’re starting to see amongst the smallfolk, who are clearly growing restless, and are increasingly resorting toward the lifestyle of “every man for himself” Ygritte advocates.

dreams for spring

Now that Jon’s indulged in some of the pleasures forbidden by his vows, it seems to have stirred some other latent desires he’s repressed. When he thinks about the wonders of his world he wants to show Ygritte, it’s not the Watch but Winterfell he identifies and wants to experience with her. It’s interesting that though there’s a heavy Watch-wildling conflict hanging over this chapter, Jon somewhat regresses to his pre-Watch identity, and even fantasizes about alternatives he might take. Though Jon’s interest in having Winterfell is kindled, he won’t admit to himself that this is what he wants or continue the fantasy, as it was never meant to be his:

He could tell she did not believe him. If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us.

The dream was sweet . . . but Winterfell would never be his to show. It belonged to his brother, the King in the North. He was a Snow, not a Stark. Bastard, oathbreaker, and turncloak . . .

Ygritte asks him if perhaps they could take one of the abandoned castles and settle there when everything’s over. The prospect breaks his heart, as he recalls that settling the Gift was a dream of his father’s and Benjen’s, and that had events unfolded differently, Jon may not have had to join the Watch and instead been given a stronghold, taken a wife, had a different life. With sadness, he mourns the loss of his individual alternative future, as well as the idea that his father’s dream of a reforged Gift would never come to fruition:

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. “It is a dream for spring, though,” Lord Eddard had said. “Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on.”

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father’s name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged.

Of course, knowing what lies ahead, Ned’s plan does manifest, as the wildlings will eventually be allowed to settle in these lands, but instead of a “dream for spring,” it’s a critical measure for winter. Those south of the Wall might shun settlement there during winter, but to those from beyond the Wall, it’s preferable to any alternatives.

how far is too far?

Jon considers killing a brother as the point of no return, well beyond Qhorin’s orders:

Fight with them, Qhorin had said, before he surrendered his own life to Longclaw . . . but it had not come to that, till now. Once I shed a brother’s blood I am lost. I cross the Wall for good then, and there is no crossing back.

As an extension of this, Jon sees passively allowing his brothers to be slaughtered as transgressing this line as well, which he acknowledges will occur if he doesn’t find a way to betray the wildlings and return to warn the Watch. Compounding the growing imperative to return, Jon’s distraught by what this betrayal might mean for Ygritte; he suspects that she might be punished for his faithlessness, which tempts him to reveal his true purpose to her and convince her to come with him. He dismisses that thought, however, and accepts that the risk of harm to Ygritte is less certain than the impending slaughter on Castle Black. I don’t think this is exactly a case of utilitarian calculus, that is, I don’t think Jon’s considering this in terms of Ygritte’s life versus hundreds of brothers. Jon’s fond of Ygritte, but for better or worse, she took this risk on herself when she vouched for him; while it gave Jon both safety and pleasure, she’s hardly an innocent, can protect herself, and knew Jon’s desertion would be an eventual possibility. Further, I think part of Jon’s inquiries at the start of the chapter was meant to see if there was some hint that Ygritte might be sympathetic to the notion of joining him this time. With sadness, he determines that she’s “wildling to the bone,” and no such crossover will be forthcoming.

Though Jon draws his line at allowing a brother to be killed, a luckless wanderer forces him to revise this position. Jon’s tremendously conflicted when he realizes that this lone man will be killed in order to prevent his alerting the Watch, finding it morally repugnant to stand by:

Jon walked away. A rotten apple squished beneath his heel. Styr will kill him. The Magnar had said as much at Greyguard; any kneelers they met were to be put to death at once, to make certain they could not raise the alarm. Ride with them, eat with them, fight with them. Did that mean he must stand mute and helpless while they slit an old man’s throat?

Jon braces himself to stand aside and let the murder happen, but is commanded to do the deed himself in order to prove his wildling loyalty, but this too crosses a line. Though it conceivably falls within Qhorin’s directives, Jon cannot bring himself to commit murder even under direct orders. He tries convincing himself that the man’s death is guaranteed and there’s no harm in doing the deed himself, but no rationalization makes this seem right:

You must not balk, whatever is asked of you. Ride with them, eat with them, fight with them . . . But this old man had offered no resistance. He had been unlucky, that was all. Who he was, where he came from, where he meant to go on his sorry sway-backed horse . . . none of it mattered.

He is an old man, Jon told himself. Fifty, maybe even sixty. He lived a longer life than most. The Thenns will kill him anyway, nothing I can say or do will save him. Longclaw seemed heavier than lead in his hand, too heavy to lift. The man kept staring at him, with eyes as big and black as wells. I will fall into those eyes and drown. The Magnar was looking at him too, and he could almost taste the mistrust. The man is dead. What matter if it is my hand that slays him?

Now, if Jon refuses, there’s a chance he’ll be killed, and therefore unable to warn the Watchmen of the upcoming slaughter, which in turn dissolves the Watch and the main defense against the true enemy. That Ygritte steps forward to finish the job, and Summer causes a diversion, removes Jon from these consequences, and as such is a condition I know many readers have taken issue with. Jon didn’t suffer the consequences of not bloodying his hands, and he’s unburdened by the dilemma by these supposed “plot gifts.” But looking over the exchange and Jon’s refusal, I don’t believe his death would have been as certain as it initially appears. Ygritte angrily steps in, but Jon having previously spared Ygritte despite her being a lookout could have earned him more mileage. And it’s not as though Jon was only reluctant to kill kneelers, so killing this man wouldn’t truly prove anything about his loyalties in the first place. I’m also not certain that killing the man would have been the only way to prevent his raising a hue and cry, so there’s truly no necessity in silencing him.

If there’s any “convenient” plot twisting, it’s in the appearance of Summer, whose introduction created enough of a diversion for Jon to escape toward Castle Black. I don’t know if Summer had much bearing on the lack of repercussions, but it’s certainly what enabled Jon to make a reasonably clean getaway. After his adrenaline wears off, he tends to his injuries, and redirects the stolen horse northwards, but the experience of turning cloak a second time leaves him feeling empty: “I am going home, he told himself. But if that was true, why did he feel so hollow?”

[Fire Eater]

Excellent analysis, bumps!

There are plenty of hints in this chapter to Jon's heritage and destiny

One of the castles on the Wall was named for her as well. Queensgate. Before her visit they called it Snowgate.

More foreshadowing for Jon as a monarch as his surname is Snow not counting Alysanne and Jaehaerys being his ancestors. Alysanne left for the Wall when the king, who was wont to travel all over the realm, had come north to discuss matter with his Warden of the North while Jon left for the Wall after King Robert, who was wont travel all over the realm, came north to discuss matters with his Warden of the North, Ned.

"I had another friend who dreamed of dragons. A dwarf. He told me "

"JON SNOW!"

Jon's name pops up when they are discussing dragons, another hint at Jon's identity?

I am bleeding like a butchered pig, he thought

Beneath the empty eyes of the skulls on the walls, Jaime hauled the last dragonking bodily off the steps, squealing like a pig and smelling like a privy.

Jaime slew Aerys by slitting his throat, a common technique for butchering livestock. It seems there is still one dragonking left.

Jon searched the sky until he found the Ice Dragon, then turned the mare north for the Wall and Castle Black . . . I am going home, he told himself. But if that was true, why did he feel so hollow?

The hollow feeling could obviously be his decision going against Ygritte, but it could also be because after he found the Ice Dragon and he goes north thinks he is going where he belongs, but the hollowness could come from, again, the path he hasn't taken: the kingsroad.

[Addam of Hull]

I've always found it somewhat appropriate that the very trait of Jon's that leads to his relationship with Ygritte and gives him the opportunity to infiltrate the Free Folk -- his inability to kill someone he deems to be innocent -- is the very same trait that eventually forces his hand, ends his association with the Free Folk, and indirectly causes the death of Ygritte. Likewise, I think it's interesting that Ygritte rejects him when he spares someone other than her. Almost certainly, Jon doesn't pay an immediate price for this decision, sans the arrow in his leg, but I think there are plenty of moments within the context of the story where consequences of actions are mitigated by third parties interfering for their own purposes.

Speaking of Queenscrown, I think it's interesting that we get a brief spiel about Queen Alyssane and King Jaehaerys. Jaehaerys is called the Conciliator, which is interesting because in many ways, Jon will become something of conciliator himself during his ADWD chapters. There may even be some foreshadowing in the history of Jaehaerys himself, who inherited the war against the Faith Militant from his uncle, Maegor the Cruel, and brokered a piece between House Bracken and Blackwood that lasted 50 years. Presumably, Jon doesn't have any royal uncles, but he does have an aunt and the likelihood of a Faith Militant uprising within the immediate future is high. As for Bracken and Blackwood, these two feuding houses can potentially represent the South, who worship the Seven, and the North, who worship the Old Gods. Or perhaps they can be a set of specific houses -- Stark and Lannister, for instance.

[Ibbison from Ibben]

Jon V could almost have a subtitle - Near Miss.

Bran and Co. would have been caught and killed by the Thenns if they hadn't taken shelter in the tower. That was a near miss.

Jon almost met Bran, only to be told later that Bran is dead. Near miss.

Jon almost had to cross a moral line he never would have forgiven himself for crossing. Near miss.

Jon took an arrow in the leg while escaping, but the wound didn't kill him. If the arrow had hit either the horse or Jon's femoral artery, Jon probably wouldn't have survived. Near miss.

Summer takes a similar leg wound, yet survives. Near miss. (Does this mean Summer and Jon are linked somehow?)

And (excuse me while I work my way out on a limb...) this is the first time Jon is anywhere near Miss Reed, but they don't meet. Another near miss. Hopefully this will be rectified in the future.

It sure was lucky for Bran that the storm came along. When Bran reaches the CotF cave, Bloodraven claims he's been watching Bran since he (Bran) was born. Any chance Bloodraven is a Stormsinger as well as a Greenseer? Was the stranger a blood price paid to the Old Gods as a substitute for Bran? Or Jon?

[Lummel]

intermediary chapters

Jaime V

In the bath house of Harrenhal, Jaime reveals the true story of the sack to Brienne, and afterwards, shares dinner with a newly-turned Roose. I think this is a useful complementary chapter to Jon, as Jaime discusses his kingslaying in more depth, presenting his rationale for breaking his oath as done for the greater good. ...

...I’m somewhat anticipating an intersection of Jon and Jaime in the future, and I wonder about this passage about judgment in relation to such a meeting:

“The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king’s secrets. Would you have me break my oath?” Jaime laughed. “Do you think the noble Lord of Winterfell wanted to hear my feeble explanations? Such an honorable man. He only had to look at me to judge me guilty.” Jaime lurched to his feet, the water running cold down his chest. “By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?” ...

With the Jaime-Jon comparision are you thinking ahead here to the events of ADWD and Jon's leadership decisions or are you thinking in terms of how other people view and judge the oathbreaker, or are you thinking about the differences between the Wolf and the Lion here?

Jon V

...cultural exchange

This is the first time we get something akin to a full philosophical discussion on the differences between wildlings and kneelers (the form of inquiry and answer reminds me of Xaro and Dany’s discussion on slavery in DwD, which in turn reminds me of the structure of Plato’s Republic). Martin uses this method pretty sparingly; Stannis and Davos debates (somewhat), and Tyrion and Tywin’s plotting discussions are the only other similar instances I can recall off-hand. Most often we get a character’s digested reflections on a previous conversation or point of disagreement, and through this, we tend to be persuaded toward the POV’s interpretation. But when the discussion is presented as this sort of “Glaucon and Socrates” inquiry, I think it encourages us to look more broadly and critically at the philosophical issues under debate, leaving the answers more open-ended...

dreams for spring

Now that Jon’s indulged in some of the pleasures forbidden by his vows, it seems to have stirred some other latent desires he’s repressed. When he thinks about the wonders of his world he wants to show Ygritte, it’s not the Watch but Winterfell he identifies and wants to experience with her. It’s interesting that though there’s a heavy Watch-wildling conflict hanging over this chapter, Jon somewhat regresses to his pre-Watch identity, and even fantasizes about alternatives he might take. Though Jon’s interest in having Winterfell is kindled, he won’t admit to himself that this is what he wants or continue the fantasy, as it was never meant to be his:

He could tell she did not believe him. If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us.

The dream was sweet . . . but Winterfell would never be his to show. It belonged to his brother, the King in the North. He was a Snow, not a Stark. Bastard, oathbreaker, and turncloak . . .

I'm very struck by that wish to make love under the Winterfell weirwood, apart from that it panders to the unspoken desires of Bloodraven, that weirwood has so far not been described in a way that suggests it is a romantic location - although I suppose that might be because we first see it through Catelyn's eyes and she is alienated from it. Gilly tells Sam that making love on board ship at sea is safe because the gods can't see them there. Jon however wants to, er, consecrate mayhaps, his relationship under their very eyes.

On the cultural exchange I agree that this feels very significant. We get an absolute contrast here, I think this is what Lykos alluded to in another thread, between two totally different conceptions of human life. On the one side there is this Thomas Hobbes style view that people are naturally bad, there is a war of everybody against everybody, and the only way to escape it is to have a strong central authority that everybody submits to. North of the Wall there is this Jean Jacques Rousseau type view that, au contraire, people are naturally good - it is society and the concept of ownership that corrupts us and makes us evil.

The story sees a reversal of both views in that during the war of the five kings we see that the people who had submitted to authority are just abused by it. So strong authority is not enough to give everybody freedom from the war of everybody against everybody. While north of the Wall we see the peoples coming together under a central authority in order to achieve a goal that they can only achieve collectively - the move south, in other words freedom from authority is not enough because there are limits to what an individual can do.

For me I think the failures and insufficiencies in both approaches point to the need for some moral framework or shared values, perhaps like Jon's chivalry - true knighthood mayhaps, that protects the weak and provides freedom from injustice and the freedom to live the good life :dunno: . I think this ties into the question of leadership and rulership in ASOIAF in the sense of what is the point of being on top of the heap. Are you just going to be a King Bob and indulge your base carnal wants with booze and bought bodies? Or do you have some duty and responsibility to those who submitted to you and who you are in charge of?

...Beneath the empty eyes of the skulls on the walls, Jaime hauled the last dragonking bodily off the steps, squealing like a pig and smelling like a privy.

Jaime slew Aerys by slitting his throat, a common technique for butchering livestock. It seems there is still one dragonking left...

Hmm, the Targaryens claim was to be superior to other people and to have better blood, but Jaime disposes of him like an animal, good point. It is also not a combat wound, he didn't run him through, or hack him down with the sword. It is not a warrior's death.

I've always found it somewhat appropriate that the very trait of Jon's that leads to his relationship with Ygritte and gives him the opportunity to infiltrate the Free Folk -- his inability to kill someone he deems to be innocent -- is the very same trait that eventually forces his hand, ends his association with the Free Folk, and indirectly causes the death of Ygritte. Likewise, I think it's interesting that Ygritte rejects him when he spares someone other than her...

That's interesting, I wonder if her hostility is because it calls into question her reading of the events at the pass. For her that was being stolen. Now she sees that Jon is simply chivalrous and won't strike down an unharmed opponant?

Jon V could almost have a subtitle - Near Miss...

Hmm, it reminds me of the sequence of Arya and Catelyn chapters when again they come terribly close but don't meet, or The Ned's execution when The Ned, Sansa and Arya are all so close but don't come into contact.

[butterbumps!]

With the Jaime-Jon comparision are you thinking ahead here to the events of ADWD and Jon's leadership decisions or are you thinking in terms of how other people view and judge the oathbreaker, or are you thinking about the differences between the Wolf and the Lion here?

I didn't have a specific agenda for mentioning the Jaime chapter in relation to this, and everything you mentioned struck me as potentially pertinent.

But in terms of the oathbreaking, I think it's significant that Jaime took these half measures, and I wonder if there's something to be gleaned from that-- that is, he crossed the "point of no return" in slaying Aerys, but held to these other aspects of the vow that could have caused the very tragedy he sought to avoid. I'm not sure if there's a broad lesson here, i.e. "if you're going to oathbreak, do it all the way." But cautiously, I think Jaime's explanation shows us that sometimes an oath truly must be broken, and in those instances, perhaps fully committing to it is better than half measures.

I think it's also a relevant parallel that at this point, Jon is convinced he's an oathbreaker, but unlike Jaime, he explains the entire rationale behind it and is mostly absolved of the "crime" by many of his brothers. However, moving ahead to Dance, Jon starts taking some oathkeeping half measures, and by fateful Chapter 13, he seems as secretive of his purpose as Jaime was, leading to rather unfortunate outcomes.

On a more speculative note, I'm looking forward to a Jon-Jaime meeting; I'm curious whether they will meet as enemies, and if the prospect of the Wolf judging the Lion will come to pass. It strikes me as a rather significant line, it was said in relation to Jon's supposed father, and Jon and Jaime are the major oathbreakers who'd ostensibly understand each other on this subject. I'm not sure if this is foreshadowing such a meeting, but it reads to me like unfinished business between Jaime and the Starks.

[Winter's Knight]

For me I think the failures and insufficiencies in both approaches point to the need for some moral framework or shared values, perhaps like Jon's chivalry - true knighthood mayhaps, that protects the weak and provides freedom from injustice and the freedom to live the good life :dunno: . I think this ties into the question of leadership and rulership in ASOIAF in the sense of what is the point of being on top of the heap. Are you just going to be a King Bob and indulge your base carnal wants with booze and bought bodies? Or do you have some duty and responsibility to those who submitted to you and who you are in charge of?

Sorry for just butting in but you just reminded me of this bit from Dany in Storm:

“I was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”

“Some kings make themselves. Robert did.”

“He was no true king,” Dany said scornfully. “He did no justice. Justice . . . that’s what kings are for.

[Lummel]

This is a public forum Winter's Knight, everything we co-conspirators post has the aim of inticing you and everybody else to butt in!

That is a really interesting parallel. We talked about Justice in the Tyrion reread, my position was that it doesn't really exist in Westeros, but I think there is a case to be made that characters like Daenerys and Jon do have a concept of Justice that includes taking responsibility for the people they have authority over. I'm not sure if we ever said precisely in Learning to Lead that Jon comes in ADWD to act like the Stark in Winterfell in how he governs the Night's Watch and the North but even so that was probably too mild, we might argue that he is acting as a King in the North. Quite how that fits together with Jon not travelling the KINGsroad in AGOT and a bitterswet ending I hesitate to speculate.

/digrestion

But yes, justice - isn't that why Jon doesn't kill the old man. He looks in his eyes (as per The Ned Bran one and Catelyn one AGOT), sees no harm in him and can't do the deed. It is not just.

[Ragnorak]

Very well done, Butterbumps and thank you for the well organized chapter links.

Cultural Exchange

There is a lot going on philosophically here between Jon and Ygritte and I think you very appropriately expand the discussion to the Dothraki and Ironborn because there is clearly a much broader commentary. I prefer Bastiat as a philosopher for this discussion over Hobbes and Rousseau because his starting notion is that the core purpose of a governing body is to apply the force of law to make labor preferable to plunder-- which seems dead on with the plundering culture North of the Wall. It also strikes me as a good success or failure baseline for any system of government. If the system promotes labor over plunder (absent labor under the chains of slavery and the like which is just the plunder of human beings) then the system "works" despite an almost infinite capacity to debate the finer points. We've talked a good deal about the institutional failure of the Watch and the extent to which people have left the Gift because the Watch could no longer protect their labor from plunder is a good measure of that failure.

There is also the unspoken circumstances of those without martial prowess living under Ygritte's way of life. While not directly addressed here, I think this echoes back to Jon's plea on Sam's behalf back in GoT.

“I asked why each link was a different metal. A silver chain would look much finer with his grey robes, I said. Maester Luwin laughed. A maester forges his chain with study, he told me. The different metals are each a different kind of learning, gold for the study of money and accounts, silver for healing, iron for warcraft. And he said there were other meanings as well. The collar is supposed to remind a maester of the realm he serves, isn’t that so? Lords are gold and knights steel, but two links can’t make a chain. You also need silver and iron and lead, tin and copper and bronze and all the rest, and those are farmers and smiths and merchants and the like. A chain needs all sorts of metals, and a land needs all sorts of people.”

Farmers, smiths, merchants and the like only really arise in a society where labor is preferable to plunder and these people don't require personal martial prowess to keep a sufficient portion of the fruits of their own labor to pursue their craft. It is this lesson that is beyond Ygritte's comprehension when she says:

She looked as if she thought he was making that up. “How could men build so high, with no giants to lift the stones?”

The "in series" answer to her question is provided in the symbolism behind a maester's chain. The fact that this land is empty essentially because of the Wildling lifestyle and specifically the tower she so admires and dreams of living in but could never build seems a deliberate commentary on her philosophy. There's also the implied idea that men become as giants by building such structures which ties into progress and the Last of the Giants. Although she claims men can't "own" land there does seem to be a caveat to her belief.

“This land belongs to the Watch,” Jon said.
Her nostrils flared. “No one lives here.”

So it seems that a certain respect is tendered to people working the land and it is more an objection to Kings or Lords claiming land they never use. Tyrion opening the Kingswood for hunting to the smallfolk of Kings Landing seems in line with Ygritte's belief on "owning" land. Craster's Keep is recognized by the Wildlings despite the contempt they seem to hold him in so there's at least some recognition of ownership of occupied land. Jon notes that they don't just steal women when they raid south of the Wall-- is that true of stealing women from villages while still north of the Wall? Do they take valuables there as well or do they restrict themselves to Wildling "dating?" Her hatred of the Wall seems rooted in this idea that it was used to steal all the land south of it and raiding seems to her to just be stealing back what the Wall has taken.

I do think the Wildlings are presented as a good deal more "civilized" than the Dothraki or the Ironborn. Slavery is abhorrent which sets them worlds apart from the Dothraki and their "stealing" women is not to bring them back as second class salt wives but essentially their marriage custom. A place like Craster's Keep would never survive on the Dothraki Sea nor would there be anything in the Ironborn philosophy to stay the hand of destruction from someone like a Craster the Ironborn held in such contempt. The trade between the Dothraki and Free Cities is just extortion while the trade between the Watch and Wildlings is a voluntary exchange despite hostilities. The Ironborn could use "sow" and "trade" interchangeably.

I think the overall portrayal creates the effect of a spectrum with Southron culture at one end, the Wildlings at the other and the North in the middle. (An effect that starts as early as Cat's initial visit to the Godswood and becomes more and more defined through Ned's POV especially once he reaches KL.) The Wildlings are far from lawless as Ygritte gives Jon a litany of cultural laws-- no taking wives from the same village, Guest Right, no slavery, women can object to "marriages," etc. There are elements of a Wildling-esque meritocracy we see in the North with Jory who Ned selects to lead the honor guard to meet a King (compared with the Tyrion/Oberyn title posturing) or an Osha who could never earn access to a Prince south of the Neck after her actions. The Wildlings don't bend their knees but they do bend their will to a Mance and even a Rattleshirt --to a degree-- while on patrol. The Wildlings submitting to Jon later in Dance is believable in a way that a martial people like the Dothraki never would be and we'll even get the sense that the distance between the North and the Free Folk is far less than with their Southron neighbors through the <ahem> gracious manners and demeanor of men like Axell Florent. The foundation of that "Southron Fool" sense compared to the Wildling affinity is laid in these Ygritte chapters.

Marriage

While there is truth in Ygritte's philosophy about owning knives that echoes Mormont's "Answered Prayer"

“The wide world is full of people wanting help, Jon. Would that some could find the courage to help themselves. Craster sprawls in his loft even now, stinking of wine and lost to sense. On his board below lies a sharp new axe. Were it me, I’d name it ‘Answered Prayer’ and make an end.”

we also get the unnamed pretty girl in Arya as well as Pia and others:

One girl, prettier than the others, was made to go with four or five different men every night, until finally she hit one with a rock. Ser Gregor made everyone watch while he took off her head with a sweep of his massive two-handed greatsword.

Somehow I doubt if she had used a knife rather than a rock that it would have made a difference.

Still Cersei, Sansa, Arianne, Lysa, and many more all tend to put Ygritte's marriage beliefs in a far more favorable light than Jon's. Other than Dornish paramours I think Ygritte's beliefs here are the only outlet a reader has for the politics and power over love injustice that creeps in too often. So even Craster's wives and Varymyr's practice of fetching women is downplayed in reader sympathy by the Wildlings having some outlet for the injustice we never see elsewhere. While Doran speaks of fostering a son here I think it applies equally to daughters treated as coin in marriage over their father's duty to find a good and decent man.

Lady Mellario had never forgiven Prince Doran for taking her son away from her. “I like it no more than you do,” Arianne had overheard her father say, “but there is a blood debt, and Quentyn is the only coin Lord Ormond will accept.”
“Coin?” her mother had screamed. “He is your son. What sort of father uses his own flesh and blood to pay his debts?”
“The princely sort,” Doran Martell had answered.

This bad taste left behind by children as coin enhances the appeal of Ygritte's philosophy beyond what is reflected in reality. Perhaps the appeal relates to the chance at freedom of choice over arbitrary happiness as a side effect of political expediency.

The Innocent Man

Jon's refusal to kill the man strikes me as more about the First Men tradition of justice than a measure of how far he'd follow the Halfhand's perceived intent behind his orders. He clearly recalls the beheading in the opening chapter and that he is looking into the man's eyes is quite apparent. I don't see his refusal here being interrupted by Summer as a "plot gift" in any way. The man who passes the sentence is the man who wields the sword. Magnar was basically ordering Jon to be his headsman and this First Men tradition is an ancient one the Wildlings would be familiar with. "You passed the sentence, you wield the sword" would be a perfectly fine response especially amongst the Free Folk and one rooted in a common tradition-- even after Ygritte slits his throat. The weight of doing nothing would still be his to bear but he was never in a kill or be killed situation here since the Magnar's men caught the man and the Magnar passed the sentence.

If the Halfhand's orders play into this scene I would think it has more to do with Jon's "real" father's teachings still outweighing those of his foster father figure's influence. Earlier Jon had a very philosophical conversation about Wildling raiding with Ygritte. This man serves to put real consequences to the content of that conversations hypotheticals.

I’m somewhat anticipating an intersection of Jon and Jaime in the future, and I wonder about this passage about judgment in relation to such a meeting:

“The knights of the Kingsguard are sworn to keep the king’s secrets. Would you have me break my oath?” Jaime laughed. “Do you think the noble Lord of Winterfell wanted to hear my feeble explanations? Such an honorable man. He only had to look at me to judge me guilty.” Jaime lurched to his feet, the water running cold down his chest. “By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?”

I agree that this has some curious future potential. Jon thinking Jaime looked a King, Jaime being part of the current royal family, and Jaime technically being sworn to protect Jon as LC of the KG offers numerous opportunities for twists and plays on the phrase. On the mechanics of justice, the wolf-- the Lord of Winterfell and the lion-- the Lord of Casterly Rock sit as equals. Setting aside Jaime's forsaking his lion status to at least some degree by joining the Kingsguard and the Lord vs. Lord's son difference, it is the King that sits on top of both these Lords and has the right to judge the wolf and the lion-- and Jaime has just murdered that King. His question ignores the fact that he just butchered the man who has the right to judge the wolf and lion like a pig. The wolf has risen in rebellion which is close to though less than murdering the King. The wolf's reason's are public and rooted in that King's denial of recognized justice for Winterfell's Lord and heir (Fire is my champion...) and the rebellion was conducted in an "honorable" fashion at least as far as rebellions can be (no poison or treachery, etc.) Ned's openly forsaking his oath to the king and his army that fought its way to the throne room instead of butchering a man like a pig in ambush are "a right" by which he could judge Jaime.

While Jaime's act was also rooted in Aerys unjust use of fire his reasons were not public. His choice of cloak and his choice of seat also made a statement. In many ways Jaime himself gave Ned (and the rest of the population of the Seven Kingdoms) the right simply by his choice of cloak-- sitting in the throne didn't help. A Jaime wearing a Lannister cloak and sitting on the steps in front of the throne makes him "a lion" rather than a Kingsguard or a claimant to the throne which only the Hand or King is ever permitted to sit upon. Largely by right of Jaime's own actions and inactions seems an accurate answer. A Jaime sitting on the steps in front of the throne could have thrown back every accusative stare from Ned by "ordering" him to have his men search for caches of wildfire that Aerys intended to burn the city to ash with. He never would have had to explain or justify his actions beyond pointing out the (still existing) wildfire hazard. My suspicion is that he is being almost honest with Brienne when he refers to keeping his vows as his reason for silence. It is all the prior shame at keeping his vows like when Rhaella shrieked behind closed doors that have more to do with his silence than anything else. I do think there's something to the "half measures" but the real difference with Jaime and Jon seems to be in their wrestling with morality relative to their vows in the lead up to breaking them. Even without the Ned/Tywin difference Arthur Dayne never told him what a man's honor is worth like the Halfhand tells Jon.

[Ser Pollo Loco]

I didn't have a specific agenda for mentioning the Jaime chapter in relation to this, and everything you mentioned struck me as potentially pertinent.

But in terms of the oathbreaking, I think it's significant that Jaime took these half measures, and I wonder if there's something to be gleaned from that-- that is, he crossed the "point of no return" in slaying Aerys, but held to these other aspects of the vow that could have caused the very tragedy he sought to avoid. I'm not sure if there's a broad lesson here, i.e. "if you're going to oathbreak, do it all the way." But cautiously, I think Jaime's explanation shows us that sometimes an oath truly must be broken, and in those instances, perhaps fully committing to it is better than half measures.

I think it's also a relevant parallel that at this point, Jon is convinced he's an oathbreaker, but unlike Jaime, he explains the entire rationale behind it and is mostly absolved of the "crime" by many of his brothers. However, moving ahead to Dance, Jon starts taking some oathkeeping half measures, and by fateful Chapter 13, he seems as secretive of his purpose as Jaime was, leading to rather unfortunate outcomes.

On a more speculative note, I'm looking forward to a Jon-Jaime meeting; I'm curious whether they will meet as enemies, and if the prospect of the Wolf judging the Lion will come to pass. It strikes me as a rather significant line, it was said in relation to Jon's supposed father, and Jon and Jaime are the major oathbreakers who'd ostensibly understand each other on this subject. I'm not sure if this is foreshadowing such a meeting, but it reads to me like unfinished business between Jaime and the Starks.

I don't think it's really about fully committing to oath breaking, Jamie did what was right. Jon and Jamie basically have the same outlook on life by Feast/Dance (spirt of the vow, do whats right when faced with hard choices), but I wonder how Jamie's past will catch up (cersei/bran, not Ayries) The problem is that after killing Aeries he sat on the throne instead of protecting Rhaegars children. Jamie is haunted by that so his finest hour is also his lowest. I think the half measure was sitting on the throne (which Ned seems to be most pissed about when talking with Robert in Game), and failing Rhaegar

I don't know how much of the GNC i believe, but I do believe Howland has a plan and may be working with Bloodraven ("he talks to trees" -Meera) and the Brotherhood are disappearing into the neck, so I think Jamie won't be involved in RW 2.0 but will be heading North

[Lummel]

Rereading the chapter I was struck by how GRRM uses Jon's memories of Winterfell, his education and of The Ned to stress the differences between Jon and Ygritte. The Ned was a very strong presence throughout the chapter: the memory of the execution, the two brothers working together to devise their plan for the security of the Wall, discipline versus numbers, being his father's son. I think this is possibly the most of The Ned that we have in any POV chapter excepting the man's own ones in AGOT.

A strong sense too of the paths not taken, of the alternative lives that jon could have led - as a bannerman with a towerhouse on the gift, as lord of winerfell, working with his siblings, the loss of both blood and oath brothers - but then the chapter ends with the two brothers working together which shows that Jon's sense of isolation is a feeling and not a reality, there is still a bond that links the siblings.

[Ibbison from Ibben]

dreams for spring

.....

Ygritte asks him if perhaps they could take one of the abandoned castles and settle there when everything’s over. The prospect breaks his heart, as he recalls that settling the Gift was a dream of his father’s and Benjen’s, and that had events unfolded differently, Jon may not have had to join the Watch and instead been given a stronghold, taken a wife, had a different life. With sadness, he mourns the loss of his individual alternative future, as well as the idea that his father’s dream of a reforged Gift would never come to fruition:

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. “It is a dream for spring, though,” Lord Eddard had said. “Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on.”

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father’s name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged.

Queenscrown, the setting for Bran III and Jon V, certainly seems to be absolutely loaded with symbolism. In Bran III, the detailed descriptions depict an almost perfect vision of what a small lord would want. The scene is incredibly picturesque. Jojen comments on the fertility of the soil. The ground littered with acorns and apples is ideal foraging land for swine. The rotting apples themselves shout out Wasted Opportunity. It's the Westerosi equivalent of a modest but cozy house in the suburbs with a bit of yard and a white picket fence, just waiting for a young couple with 2.4 kids (dog and cat optional) to set up housekeeping. There's not even a need to fight for it; the place is deserted, just begging for someone to move in. (You would have to supply your own smallfolk, but that means you get to pick them as well.)

As butterbumps! noted, this seems to be a vision that Jon wistfully regrets not getting a chance to choose. It's not really a "road not taken"; Jon was never given the chance to choose this path. My question is could this also be foreshadowing - might Jon still have a shot at this, if he indeed wants it? The path to the goal is hidden and fraught with many twists and turns (the submerged zig-zag causeway), but it exists, and Jon knows it does. What stands between him and the path to the tower? Apple trees.

In this context, I see the apples symbolizing the act of choosing. In Greek myth. Eris chucked the Apple of Discord into a wedding, and Paris was recruited to choose who to give it to, thus starting the Trojan War. In Genesis, a fruit tree (which has conventionally come to be considered an apple tree) represents temptation, but temptation automatically involves choice. Or more precisely, choosing between #1) - following the orders of the Authority Figure and #2) - choosing to make a choice based on your own analysis. I just finished the Learning to Lead reread (great work there, btw!), and the last few Jon chapters depicted Jon as getting ready to, and finally in fact choosing to, make a choice.

For Jon, the choice is love vs honor. Jeor Mormont advocates honor over love. Society (the Chivalric Code) (the Authority Figure) demands that honor is everything, and there's no choice allowed. (You don't need knowledge of Good and Evil; following orders is all that's required.) Maester Aemon describes the choices and reveals the option he took, but doesn't advocate for one or the other. When Aemon asks whether his father would choose love or honor, Jon says he "...would do what is right", avoiding a clear commitment to one or the other, and admitting that there is in fact no automatic right answer. Queenscrown might symbolize that Jon could still have this life, if he wants it, if he chooses to choose. (I don't want to get ahead of the reread, and a more detailed examination of this should probably wait until the aDwD chapters, but it might be a good idea to tuck this into the backs of our minds until then. And Jon Making Choices is a constant theme in his storyline.)

It might also be important to note that, because he arrives at night in a storm, Jon can't see Queenscrown clearly. He only gets brief glances at it when it is illuminated by lightning. Bran is the one who sees it clearly. In the future, perhaps Bran will be able to help Jon see his options when Jon can't really make them out.

[Lummel]

...But in terms of the oathbreaking, I think it's significant that Jaime took these half measures, and I wonder if there's something to be gleaned from that-- that is, he crossed the "point of no return" in slaying Aerys, but held to these other aspects of the vow that could have caused the very tragedy he sought to avoid. I'm not sure if there's a broad lesson here, i.e. "if you're going to oathbreak, do it all the way." But cautiously, I think Jaime's explanation shows us that sometimes an oath truly must be broken, and in those instances, perhaps fully committing to it is better than half measures.

I think it's also a relevant parallel that at this point, Jon is convinced he's an oathbreaker, but unlike Jaime, he explains the entire rationale behind it and is mostly absolved of the "crime" by many of his brothers. However, moving ahead to Dance, Jon starts taking some oathkeeping half measures, and by fateful Chapter 13, he seems as secretive of his purpose as Jaime was, leading to rather unfortunate outcomes...

I don't know. Jaime's oathbreaking is pretty complete, he didn't half kill the king afterall ;) though I agree there was some potential for mixed messages, I suppose we could discuss the semiotics of golden armour and white cloak, which is meaningful for Jaime but what does it signify to every/any body else?

I think when we get there there is a stronger argument for Jon to disolve the night's watch oath and start a new organisation with a different oath and in that sense to truly and absolutely break the oath - the backdrop to this chapter is that the watch isn't fit for purpose - the Wall isn't controlled, patrols in the Gift are inadequate, teh Watch couldn't defend the population which support the Watch and so on.

Cultural Exchange

...There is also the unspoken circumstances of those without martial prowess living under Ygritte's way of life. While not directly addressed here, I think this echoes back to Jon's plea on Sam's behalf back in GoT.

Farmers, smiths, merchants and the like only really arise in a society where labor is preferable to plunder and these people don't require personal martial prowess to keep a sufficient portion of the fruits of their own labor to pursue their craft. It is this lesson that is beyond Ygritte's comprehension when she says:

Marriage

While there is truth in Ygritte's philosophy about owning knives that echoes Mormont's "Answered Prayer"

...

This bad taste left behind by children as coin enhances the appeal of Ygritte's philosophy beyond what is reflected in reality. Perhaps the appeal relates to the chance at freedom of choice over arbitrary happiness as a side effect of political expediency.

The Innocent Man

...If the Halfhand's orders play into this scene I would think it has more to do with Jon's "real" father's teachings still outweighing those of his foster father figure's influence. Earlier Jon had a very philosophical conversation about Wildling raiding with Ygritte. This man serves to put real consequences to the content of that conversations hypotheticals.

I agree that this has some curious future potential. Jon thinking Jaime looked a King, Jaime being part of the current royal family, and Jaime technically being sworn to protect Jon as LC of the KG offers numerous opportunities for twists and plays on the phrase. On the mechanics of justice, the wolf-- the Lord of Winterfell and the lion-- the Lord of Casterly Rock sit as equals. Setting aside Jaime's forsaking his lion status to at least some degree by joining the Kingsguard and the Lord vs. Lord's son difference, it is the King that sits on top of both these Lords and has the right to judge the wolf and the lion-- and Jaime has just murdered that King. ... I do think there's something to the "half measures" but the real difference with Jaime and Jon seems to be in their wrestling with morality relative to their vows in the lead up to breaking them. Even without the Ned/Tywin difference Arthur Dayne never told him what a man's honor is worth like the Halfhand tells Jon.

On the cultural exchange there's a point there about the flatness and lack of diversity of the ostensibly free wildling culture. The end result of all there freedom is that nobody can ever be free to be skilled in some craft because you have to be afighting, and araiding and constantly strong and fierce blah blah blah, while the uniformity of subjection to authority allows a thousand flowers to bloom south of the wall. I agree that Ygritte's marital philosophy seems attractive because it appears to be about choice, although I notice that when Jon quizzes her with various unpleasent scenarios she rationalises them away - iirc wan't her first lover driven off with a broken arm by her villagers? So she didn't get to choose, the one person she does choose is Jon. I mean there is social coercion in the idealisation of the strong, its a bit social Darwinist...

I think that wrestling with morality is a great point, certainly with regard to Jaime, I feel in Jon it is less explicit - even though we live in his POV - but it is implicit in his ADWD actions.

Judging the lion and the wolf made me wonder if I could remember something about a trial of Isemgrim teh wolf in the animal fableux, but the memory escapes me.

As butterbumps! noted, this seems to be a vision that Jon wistfully regrets not getting a chance to choose. It's not really a "road not taken"; Jon was never given the chance to choose this path. My question is could this also be foreshadowing - might Jon still have a shot at this, if he indeed wants it? The path to the goal is hidden and fraught with many twists and turns (the submerged zig-zag causeway), but it exists, and Jon knows it does. What stands between him and the path to the tower? Apple trees.

In this context, I see the apples symbolizing the act of choosing. In Greek myth. Eris chucked the Apple of Discord into a wedding, and Paris was recruited to choose who to give it to, thus starting the Trojan War...

I like the apples and acorns. In this case since the apple of discord is already rotten it suggests the end of the relationship rather than a viable choice at this stage. I'm not sure that Jon making choices is much of a theme, he did in AGOT and he will in ADWD, not sure that he makes any inbetween - certainly none without being given a hefty push!

You are right to say that it isn't a road not taken, it is more a sense of alternative life, might have beens, could have beens and what ifs...

I don't know about the future, I find it hard to imagine the scenario where Jon is allowed to step down and get a cottage in the country :dunno:

Glad you enjoyed Learning to lead!

[Ragnorak]

I don't know. Jaime's oathbreaking is pretty complete, he didn't half kill the king afterall ;) though I agree there was some potential for mixed messages, I suppose we could discuss the semiotics of golden armour and white cloak, which is meaningful for Jaime but what does it signify to every/any body else?

Not sure how significant the White Cloak aspect is. The individual Kingsguard members' armor changes often but the cloak seems constant (except Jaime's black satin cloak in GoT but maybe he was off duty and in "brother" capacity since Robert had two white cloaked guards flanking him :dunno: .) The point being that if it is a uniform it may be very important. In modern militaries uniforms matter tremendously. A soldier saying the same thing in uniform that he says in civilian clothes is the difference between a non-event and a court martial. There are strange rules surrounding uniforms like not being allowed to carry umbrellas or hold your wife's hand while walking. Most importantly wearing that uniform clearly conveys the capacity in which an act is being carried out. (Brienne's "stained the white cloak" accusation does sound a bit like "disgraced the uniform") Not sure how much of that uniform symbolism can be applied to Westeros. Jon does wonder whether or not the old man can see that he's wearing black even though his cloak is the one thing he explicitly changed which offers some interesting contrast for the Jaime parallel.

On the cultural exchange there's a point there about the flatness and lack of diversity of the ostensibly free wildling culture. The end result of all there freedom is that nobody can ever be free to be skilled in some craft because you have to be afighting, and araiding and constantly strong and fierce blah blah blah, while the uniformity of subjection to authority allows a thousand flowers to bloom south of the wall. I agree that Ygritte's marital philosophy seems attractive because it appears to be about choice, although I notice that when Jon quizzes her with various unpleasent scenarios she rationalises them away - iirc wan't her first lover driven off with a broken arm by her villagers? So she didn't get to choose, the one person she does choose is Jon. I mean there is social coercion in the idealisation of the strong, its a bit social Darwinist...

This is very true. There's a social structure and some sense of community in that they have villages and a sense of communal belonging to those villages but they are more or less stuck some 4000 or more years in the past before the Andals came (which is important relative to the whole remembering theme and the Others, CotF, etc.) They are eternally on the cusp of advancing in that they can get a King like Mance or one of the many prior figures to unite them and they almost built a port for trading at Hardhome 500 years ago-- still they always fall short.

Take Tormund's son:

And Torwynd … it was the cold claimed him. Always sickly, that one. He just up and died one night. The worst o’ it, before we ever knew he’d died he rose pale with them blue eyes. Had to see to him m’self. That was hard, Jon.” Tears shone in his eyes. “He wasn’t much of a man, truth be told, but he’d been me little boy once, and I loved him.”

He could have had the potential to be a Sam or a Tyrion or a Bran the Builder but could never have realized it North of the Wall. All the freedom yet little opportunity-- though by the end of Dance Jon seems poised to change that. Yet for all the pragmatic faults it is curious how the romantic notions of pioneering and the frontier are still so appealing.

Rereading the chapter I was struck by how GRRM uses Jon's memories of Winterfell, his education and of The Ned to stress the differences between Jon and Ygritte. The Ned was a very strong presence throughout the chapter: the memory of the execution, the two brothers working together to devise their plan for the security of the Wall, discipline versus numbers, being his father's son. I think this is possibly the most of The Ned that we have in any POV chapter excepting the man's own ones in AGOT.

A strong sense too of the paths not taken, of the alternative lives that jon could have led - as a bannerman with a towerhouse on the gift, as lord of winerfell, working with his siblings, the loss of both blood and oath brothers - but then the chapter ends with the two brothers working together which shows that Jon's sense of isolation is a feeling and not a reality, there is still a bond that links the siblings.

Very astute. I think we get more of The Ned trickling in throughout other POVs than any other character. I think it is a huge part of what creates the sense of his legacy. Manderly's speech to Davos and his granddaughter's protestations about The Promise are dramatic and "The Ned's girl" was one of the priceless lines of the series, but they stand on these more mundane influences that permeate the Stark children's chapters (and others like Theon.) I think we get a similar legacy influence for Tywin in Tyrion though I'm not sure the same holds entirely true for Jaime and Cersei. (I'd have to think more about the legacy effect of Cat relative to Ned-- probably very interesting but strays way off topic) Tyrion talks of puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before in a very Greek tragedy endless revenge cycle dynamic. Here we see a similar ancestral influence in a far more internal, personal, and positive guiding fashion. These types of Ned memories help lay the foundation for the sense of Ned's influence in his leadership decisions throughout Dance even when there is no explicit Ned recollection.

Queenscrown, the setting for Bran III and Jon V, certainly seems to be absolutely loaded with symbolism. In Bran III, the detailed descriptions depict an almost perfect vision of what a small lord would want. The scene is incredibly picturesque. Jojen comments on the fertility of the soil. The ground littered with acorns and apples is ideal foraging land for swine. The rotting apples themselves shout out Wasted Opportunity. It's the Westerosi equivalent of a modest but cozy house in the suburbs with a bit of yard and a white picket fence, just waiting for a young couple with 2.4 kids (dog and cat optional) to set up housekeeping. There's not even a need to fight for it; the place is deserted, just begging for someone to move in. (You would have to supply your own smallfolk, but that means you get to pick them as well.)

<snip>

I was pondering the rotten apple crushed under his heel and I like your apple of discord take. I'm still trying to settle on a series wide apple meaning but haven't reached any conclusions (Arya's apple worm and all, LF eating an apple at the bottom of the stone ladder waiting for Ned, Jon's later choose an apple or an onion...can't find a satisfactory unifying metaphor) By this point in the series we're really beginning to sense the dread behind the Stark words Winter is Coming with signs of the impending food crisis. To see such fertile land left idle is bad enough but the rotting food contrasted with impending starvation makes quite a commentary. Nice observation!

[Winterfellian]

On Jon and the Old man by the Road...

I view this particular instance as GRRM constantly pushing Jon to a hard choice he did now want to make as opposed to a mere plot gift.

Once I shed a brother’s blood I am lost. I cross the Wall for good then, and there is no crossing back

.

Jon’s choice as to where draw the line is certainly interesting. I think that by fixing on a brother’s life he is attempting to frame a possible moral dilemma within an institutional context, in this case the NW, as opposed to framing it through his own moral code.

In a way, he’s taking the easy way out by letting the “rules” of the NW dictate what his actions ought to be instead of letting his own conscience be the primary guide. The old man turning out to be a regular John Doe certainly gives way to a dilemma that is repeated time and time again throughout the series- the conflict between serving an institution against the moral code of an individual.

Ironically, as morally repulsive as it may be, murdering the old man could have been deemed as part of the whole “serving the NW/For the greater good” stance. In fact, I have seen criticisms directed at Jon based on his decision to put his own moral code above the the benefit of the NW. In a way I find this paralleling something Mel tells Stannis in a previous chapter:

He is only one baseborn boy, against all the boys of Westeros, and all the girls as well. Against all the children that might ever be born, in all the kingdoms of the world.”

I see this dilemma as part of a test many characters faced along the series and the way they deal with the answer is a good measuring stick for the moral fiber of a character. While we see the Ned and Davos’ of the world, for whom the life of an innocent might be everything, we also have “pragmatic” ones like Tywin who might see the benefit of killing a dozen men at supper instead of engaging in a battle, or those with a black and white mentality like Stannis for whom “for the greater good” might appear cut and simple.

But how can a person assert what life is more valuable than another one? Is too difficult a decision, so naturally Jon tries to shrink from it:

Jon walked away. A rotten apple squished beneath his heel. Styr will kill him……Did that mean he must stand mute and helpless while they slit an old man’s throat?

Again, we see intending to take the easy way out, by choosing to remain passive only to be forcefully made to make a choice:

He turned his back on the man. “No.”

What I find interesting is what compels Jon to refuse to kill the old Man. A simple heroic impulse? Or is it something deeper? A mere heroic impulse implies Jon knew sparing the old man was the “right” thing to do, which I don´t think was the case. When push came to shove he I think he took a page from Aemon’s book and made the choice he felt he could live with not based upon what he believe was “right” but in some sense of justice inherited from his Father.

That Jon’s choice was influenced by the sense of Justice I find particularly fitting considering how this concept constantly appears in the previous chapters. Where in previous chapters the concept of justice is permeated by an air of violence (Stannis’ debate with Davos, Oberyn’s idea of justice is revenge, the brotherhood and their trials…etc) in Jon the sense of justice takes form in an act of mercy, even if it is against his own detriment.

As an afterthought…

Jon searched the sky until he found the Ice Dragon, then turned the mare north for the Wall and Castle Black…..He rode till dawn, while the stars stared down like eyes.

It seems the stars have become visible again.

[Ser Pollo Loco]

On Jon and the Old man by the Road...

I view this particular instance as GRRM constantly pushing Jon to a hard choice he did now want to make as opposed to a mere plot gift.

.

Jon’s choice as to where draw the line is certainly interesting. I think that by fixing on a brother’s life he is attempting to frame a possible moral dilemma within an institutional context, in this case the NW, as opposed to framing it through his own moral code.

In a way, he’s taking the easy way out by letting the “rules” of the NW dictate what his actions ought to be instead of letting his own conscience be the primary guide. The old man turning out to be a regular John Doe certainly gives way to a dilemma that is repeated time and time again throughout the series- the conflict between serving an institution against the moral code of an individual.

Ironically, as morally repulsive as it may be, murdering the old man could have been deemed as part of the whole “serving the NW/For the greater good” stance. In fact, I have seen criticisms directed at Jon based on his decision to put his own moral code above the the benefit of the NW. In a way I find this paralleling something Mel tells Stannis in a previous chapter:

I see this dilemma as part of a test many characters faced along the series and the way they deal with the answer is a good measuring stick for the moral fiber of a character. While we see the Ned and Davos’ of the world, for whom the life of an innocent might be everything, we also have “pragmatic” ones like Tywin who might see the benefit of killing a dozen men at supper instead of engaging in a battle, or those with a black and white mentality like Stannis for whom “for the greater good” might appear cut and simple.

But how can a person assert what life is more valuable than another one? Is too difficult a decision, so naturally Jon tries to shrink from it:

Again, we see intending to take the easy way out, by choosing to remain passive only to be forcefully made to make a choice:

What I find interesting is what compels Jon to refuse to kill the old Man. A simple heroic impulse? Or is it something deeper? A mere heroic impulse implies Jon knew sparing the old man was the “right” thing to do, which I don´t think was the case. When push came to shove he I think he took a page from Aemon’s book and made the choice he felt he could live with not based upon what he believe was “right” but in some sense of justice inherited from his Father.

That Jon’s choice was influenced by the sense of Justice I find particularly fitting considering how this concept constantly appears in the previous chapters. Where in previous chapters the concept of justice is permeated by an air of violence (Stannis’ debate with Davos, Oberyn’s idea of justice is revenge, the brotherhood and their trials…etc) in Jon the sense of justice takes form in an act of mercy, even if it is against his own detriment.

As an afterthought…

It seems the stars have become visible again.

Wouldn't the hero (want to) save the guy?

I need to reread this chapter, but i got the sense that Jon feels like there's no way out of this situation, he doesn't think he can escape and that factored into his decision

[Fire Eater]

Good analyses, everyone. Ygritte's attitude regarding people south of the Wall is somewhere along Rousseau: Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. The wildlings' attitude towards people south of the Wall is displayed in their name for them "kneelers." The practice of kneeling is making oneself lower in stature to the one before him, an acknowledgement of his lower status and submission to the lord before him. They see themselves as free as they don't have to be compelled to serve anyone, and are able to choose who to follow instead of what they see as a system of submission, although the lords of Westeros have been known to pick who they owe allegiance to in defiance of their liege lords and kings like men who fought for the Blackfyres, Robert and later, fAegon.

As has been pointed out, the wildling culture lacks the hierarchy and strict class structure of Westeros, but it also lacks the discipline and advancement of the civilization south of the Wall as well so it is a double-edged sword.

It seems the stars have become visible again.

I have been mulling over that as well. It might have to do with this:

And the stars in the night were the eyes of his wolf

From "Wolf in the Night" which commemorates Robb's victory at Oxcross. I don't know what to make of it.

[Lummel]

Not sure how significant the White Cloak aspect is. The individual Kingsguard members' armor changes often but the cloak seems constant (except Jaime's black satin cloak in GoT but maybe he was off duty and in "brother" capacity since Robert had two white cloaked guards flanking him :dunno: .) The point being that if it is a uniform it may be very important. In modern militaries uniforms matter tremendously. A soldier saying the same thing in uniform that he says in civilian clothes is the difference between a non-event and a court martial. There are strange rules surrounding uniforms like not being allowed to carry umbrellas or hold your wife's hand while walking. Most importantly wearing that uniform clearly conveys the capacity in which an act is being carried out. (Brienne's "stained the white cloak" accusation does sound a bit like "disgraced the uniform") Not sure how much of that uniform symbolism can be applied to Westeros. Jon does wonder whether or not the old man can see that he's wearing black even though his cloak is the one thing he explicitly changed which offers some interesting contrast for the Jaime parallel...

...Yet for all the pragmatic faults it is curious how the romantic notions of pioneering and the frontier are still so appealing.

...

I was pondering the rotten apple crushed under his heel and I like your apple of discord take. I'm still trying to settle on a series wide apple meaning but haven't reached any conclusions (Arya's apple worm and all, LF eating an apple at the bottom of the stone ladder waiting for Ned, Jon's later choose an apple or an onion...can't find a satisfactory unifying metaphor) By this point in the series we're really beginning to sense the dread behind the Stark words Winter is Coming with signs of the impending food crisis. To see such fertile land left idle is bad enough but the rotting food contrasted with impending starvation makes quite a commentary. Nice observation!

With regard to the frontier and pioneering, if I remember correctly, you are a citizen of the United States of A. the romance of the pioneer and the settler is part of your national myth. Its no surprise that you should find it appealing. It's interesting how GRRM is playing with the imagery and the ideas here in that in some ways the Wildlings are the settlers (free, independant, self-sufficent), in others the Indians (the Noble Savage, the barbarian other, the strong relationship with nature). Likewise the Night's Watch are in some ways the Indians - think Qhorin, but also the 7th cavalry, patroling the frontier keeping civilisation safe etc :dunno:

Yes, with the white cloak. I suppose for me it is not a symbol of Jaime's half heartedness, but of ambiguity. Had he been in Lannister Gold and Red the semiotics are that this is an act of rebellion, of a nobleman against the King. Had he been entirely in the White of a King's Guard then this is a deposition by the pratorian guard - an assertion that the Kingsguard has the right to judge and punish the King if he fails in his duty. By appearing in both it is not clear what he is saying I suppose. Looking at his orders to the Kingsguard later when he is lord Commander then I think there is a praetorian element to Jaime's thinking. The Kingsguard has independant morality and intelligence and should use these to guide his attitude towards the king and the king's orders. The kingsguard has the duty, implicitly, to protect the king from himself and his own worst instincts.

Apples. We always come back to apples. Temptation doesn't seem good enough. Discord isn't enough either. Rewards and heavenly promise. An archetypal fruit? There is more munching to be done here...

On Jon and the Old man by the Road...

I view this particular instance as GRRM constantly pushing Jon to a hard choice he did now want to make as opposed to a mere plot gift.

...

I see this dilemma as part of a test many characters faced along the series and the way they deal with the answer is a good measuring stick for the moral fiber of a character. ... Jon the sense of justice takes form in an act of mercy, even if it is against his own detriment...

I agree entirely about the moral fibre. These are the moments that reveal the character and again Jon chooses mercy.

I don't know about plot gift. I mean Jon has to escape to get back to the Wall, I think the contrast between his feeling of loneilness, his fear of dying alone, and the fraternal love that leaps in and dismays the Thenns is a good one.

...Ygritte's attitude regarding people south of the Wall is somewhere along Rousseau: Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. The wildlings' attitude towards people south of the Wall is displayed in their name for them "kneelers." The practice of kneeling is making oneself lower in stature to the one before him, an acknowledgement of his lower status and submission to the lord before him. They see themselves as free as they don't have to be compelled to serve anyone, and are able to choose who to follow instead of what they see as a system of submission, although the lords of Westeros have been known to pick who they owe allegiance to in defiance of their liege lords and kings like men who fought for the Blackfyres, Robert and later, fAegon.

....

Yes I suppose Ygritte believes in a universal freedom while the Lords of Westeros would believe that they are free but those below them should not be :dunno:

I thought that Jon's thought "Her crooked teeth, the feel of her breast when he cupped it in his hand, the taste of her mouth...they were his joy and his despair" was an echo of Maester Aemon's "We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy." in Jon VII AGOT.