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The Will to Change: Rereading Sandor


Milady of York

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Excellent piece of work, Milady, and a useful bit of analysis for Martin's use of the POV structure in looking at any character in a reread.



I'm curious about how Martin undermines his own negative portrayal especially since he does it so often and the Hound is the first one we see. Jaime and Theon are the major ones but the Wildlings are kin slaying blood drinking slavers who mate with the supernatural enemy we see before we even meet the Starks. Lysa is Cat's sister who first warned us of the danger. Cat goes to her in time of need and the expected help turns into unexpected... instability... which later turns into her guilt over Jon Arryn's death. Dany's Slavers Bay plotline is another example. We're constantly having our presumed judgments of reality shifted and the Hound is the first real character Martin does this with.





Such a well-written and insightful piece, Milady! The grouping of Theon, Jaime and Sandor really does help to highlight how the author has used these heinous acts against children to varying purpose and effect, and in particular with the latter two, it's important that these are the actions which effectively introduce them to the readers and shape our early biases.





This is certainly true, and I would also argue that the Hound's redemptive arc with Arya would not have been so impactful or resonated so strongly with readers had it not started with another POV, that of Sansa's. Indeed, it's the portrait of Sandor that we get through Sansa's eyes that challenges us to rethink and reassess him as character worthy of our understanding and sympathy. If Arya takes the role of Mycah's POV champion, then Sansa could be seen as fulfilling a similar kind of duty with regard to Sandor, albeit one that is much more subtle and complex due to the nature of their relationship. To bring it back to Martin's use of literary techniques, this is why Sandor's brief interaction with Sansa in her first POV can be seen as significant for its foreshadowing potential, as she mistakes his touch for her father's, and he helps to diffuse the tense situation by telling the men gathered that the direwolf acts a "wetnurse" for the Starks. The suggestion of the Hound's importance to Sansa is then further teased in Robert's statement to Ned about getting her a dog. It's also important to note that Arya is not the only one who loses in the incident; Sansa also suffers a very poignant loss in her direwolf, and the fact that Sandor quickly comes to be established as having a protective role in her life provides readers with an invaluable counterpoint in his portrayal. If Mycah was to condemn him, Lady helps to redeem him.





I think your surrogate POV assessment is dead on and also the primary method Martin uses to turn the readers' views on Sandor upside down. I'd like to look a little closer at that and also the guilt by association dynamic.



The observations made in Sandor I show Martin avoiding a direct negative portrayal of the Hound. Any negative impression is largely through his association with the Lannisters. On a first read we lack the prerequisite information to read between the lines so most of that aspect of his introduction is going to be lost to a first time reader. One of the more important parts of Sansa mistaking Sandor for her father is the context. Ilyn Payne is the real frightening one. The hint to a first time reader is that Sandor looks frightening but this other Lannister associate, Ilyn Payne, is frightening. The Lannister association that has been the source of any reader condemnation so far is being put in context. His protective gesture toward Sansa is also contrasted with Joffrey needing to be told by Cersei to that very thing and, as you mentioned, the pro-direwolf statement that aligns with the overall Stark vs. Lannister unfolding tension. None of this would serve to undermine the impact of Mycah's death, but there are seeds being planted before that incident.



The Hands Tourney is the next big event where he protects Loras from Gregor. This act tends to stand on its own, but it also has a context. We get Sandor's back story the night before, but we also get Ned's reflections on Gregor right before the incident. So Sandor's Lannister service, the source of the reader's condemnation, is being put in perspective. Ned's thoughts on Sandor's father and sister dying reinforce the story Sandor just told to Sansa. When Ned blames "the Hound and that cruel woman he serves" the Gregor tale puts that service in perspective and the same man making the statement helped establish that perspective. A short while later we get Gregor attacking innocents in the Riverlands and Ned ordering his death. Littlefinger references the Hound's likely angry reaction at being deprived of killing Gregor himself. This again plays into why Sandor is in Lannister service and puts him on the opposite side of Lannister malevolence.



This contrasting Gregor perspective will continue to play out in Arya. Sandor's trial is about cruelties committed in Lannister service. At this point Mycah's death as an act of Lannister service has gained a great deal of perspective primarily through Gregor but also Lorch and Tywin's general philosophy of prosecuting this war. We also have the cruelty on behalf of the Mad Huntsman displayed in his crow cages that calls into question the moral purity of his accusers before we even get to the trial. That the Huntsman uses dogs to enable him to exact these cruelties also speaks to the context of Sandor's service.



Sandor's time with Arya actually serves to demonstrate their alignment as a result of Gregor's actions culminating with the two fighting together to kill Gregor's men who are likely on Sandor's prayer list as well. Arya, the Gregor victim we've seen, bleeds over into Sandor the Gregor victim we haven't. Arya also fixates on both Mycah's death and Sandor's failure to rescue her mother at the Twins. The unrealistic expectation of the latter reflects back on the former and is further emphasized by Arya's own inability to recall Mycah's face herself. This culminates in Arya saying Sandor doesn't deserve the Gift of Mercy which can seem like a condemnation based on Sandor's lessons on this Gift, but also plays into First Men justice and sees Arya remove him from her prayer list.



So I see a good deal of use of the overall Stark vs. Lannister conflict used to undermine Sandor's guilt with an extensive use of Gregor on many levels to pull off the redemption. I'm sure there are probably numerous other techniques I've missed as well as many details of the Gregor plot device.




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Explain to me why it is more noble to kill 10,000 men in battle than a dozen at dinner.


I hope Tywin Lannister takes the time to read your analysis, Milady of York. :)



It’s easy for readers to disregard all the nameless people who died in the conflicts between Robb’s side and Joffrey’s side of the war, while Robb’s murder at the hands of the Freys makes quite an impact and it fits with many of the above-described criteria for literary bias including Identifiable Witness Effect.



It’s also curious that Tywin’s statement to Tyrion comes right on the heels of a discussion about Gregor Clegane’s murder of Elia and her children. This is related to the points Ragnorak has made about using Gregor to highlight Sandor’s remption. Readers are encouraged to make comparisons between the Clegane brothers and draw conclusions; the fact that both have murdered a child makes for yet another important comparison of the two men. At the end of the day, Gregor is proud of what he did.



Will any further essays be posted while we are still in Sandor II: The Trident Incident? I'd like to look at Sandor's scene in Sansa I in more depth (especially regarding what Ragnorak said about Martin undermining his own negative portrayal) but wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes!


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Will any further essays be posted while we are still in Sandor II: The Trident Incident? I'd like to look at Sandor's scene in Sansa I in more depth (especially regarding what Ragnorak said about Martin undermining his own negative portrayal) but wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes!

Thank you, Ornitorrinca! No, there won't. Some chapters touch quite contested topics, as happens with Sandor II, and those will have a "Feature Commentary" by one of the hosts expanding on the specific topic of controversy, in addition to the regular chapter summary/analysis. The analysis by OGE covers Sandor II, and my Commentary is the last for AGOT, meant also to wrap up my two-parts examination of bias and literary techniques started with the intro essay. The best way to avoid getting ahead is just have a look at the list of chapters posted in the OP, of course. The Trident encounter with Sansa is within those grouped together in Sandor II, where we currently are still in, so you're free to go in-depth on that.

The observations made in Sandor I show Martin avoiding a direct negative portrayal of the Hound. Any negative impression is largely through his association with the Lannisters. On a first read we lack the prerequisite information to read between the lines so most of that aspect of his introduction is going to be lost to a first time reader. One of the more important parts of Sansa mistaking Sandor for her father is the context. Ilyn Payne is the real frightening one. The hint to a first time reader is that Sandor looks frightening but this other Lannister associate, Ilyn Payne, is frightening. The Lannister association that has been the source of any reader condemnation so far is being put in context. His protective gesture toward Sansa is also contrasted with Joffrey needing to be told by Cersei to that very thing and, as you mentioned, the pro-direwolf statement that aligns with the overall Stark vs. Lannister unfolding tension. None of this would serve to undermine the impact of Mycah's death, but there are seeds being planted before that incident.

The Hands Tourney is the next big event where he protects Loras from Gregor. This act tends to stand on its own, but it also has a context. We get Sandor's back story the night before, but we also get Ned's reflections on Gregor right before the incident. So Sandor's Lannister service, the source of the reader's condemnation, is being put in perspective. Ned's thoughts on Sandor's father and sister dying reinforce the story Sandor just told to Sansa. When Ned blames "the Hound and that cruel woman he serves" the Gregor tale puts that service in perspective and the same man making the statement helped establish that perspective. A short while later we get Gregor attacking innocents in the Riverlands and Ned ordering his death. Littlefinger references the Hound's likely angry reaction at being deprived of killing Gregor himself. This again plays into why Sandor is in Lannister service and puts him on the opposite side of Lannister malevolence.

This contrasting Gregor perspective will continue to play out in Arya. Sandor's trial is about cruelties committed in Lannister service. At this point Mycah's death as an act of Lannister service has gained a great deal of perspective primarily through Gregor but also Lorch and Tywin's general philosophy of prosecuting this war. We also have the cruelty on behalf of the Mad Huntsman displayed in his crow cages that calls into question the moral purity of his accusers before we even get to the trial. That the Huntsman uses dogs to enable him to exact these cruelties also speaks to the context of Sandor's service.

Sandor's time with Arya actually serves to demonstrate their alignment as a result of Gregor's actions culminating with the two fighting together to kill Gregor's men who are likely on Sandor's prayer list as well. Arya, the Gregor victim we've seen, bleeds over into Sandor the Gregor victim we haven't. Arya also fixates on both Mycah's death and Sandor's failure to rescue her mother at the Twins. The unrealistic expectation of the latter reflects back on the former and is further emphasized by Arya's own inability to recall Mycah's face herself. This culminates in Arya saying Sandor doesn't deserve the Gift of Mercy which can seem like a condemnation based on Sandor's lessons on this Gift, but also plays into First Men justice and sees Arya remove him from her prayer list.

So I see a good deal of use of the overall Stark vs. Lannister conflict used to undermine Sandor's guilt with an extensive use of Gregor on many levels to pull off the redemption. I'm sure there are probably numerous other techniques I've missed as well as many details of the Gregor plot device.

Great analysis of the Lannister service as the source of condemnation for Sandor and the Stark conflict/Gregor as methods to revert the negativity, bringing up the broader picture is so spot on. I hope you'll get into the "good men in service of a bad cause" motif once we get to the Kingsguard phase of the Hound's narrative. Plenty of similarities with Aerys' royal guards and the Jaime/Rhaella situation there. Also, since you've mentioned Gregor, he's called "Lord Tywin's Mad Dog" in-world, which tells you what sort of overlords the Lannisters are: fostering, nourishing and encouraging and making free use of the violent and most depraved side of their men as political and warring tool. Gregor prospers because Tywin needs him, something boy Sandor would've noticed very early, since his brother got "rewarded" with a knighthood from Prince Rhaegar, a honour we can trace back to Tywin as we'll discuss in Sandor III, and he'd have realised that to get the same protection from his overlord, he'd need to be just as good martially, to embrace the "strong arms and sharp steel rule the world" philosophy (does this not strike you as something Tywin would if not say at least nod in approval?). The lions brought forth the aggressive and violent side of him, and shaped him as their tool, as Tywin himself will remark, because "he had his uses." Even Kevan at one point in AFFC blames the Hound's supposed criminal acts at Saltpans on Cersei for fostering his violence, with the "a dog takes after its master" line he'll repeat a second time in the ADWD epilogue, again thinking of Sandor as the infamous Butcher. The a dog mimics its master motif is presented very early in AGOT, funnily enough by Sansa herself in her first chapter, where she says:

Sansa couldn’t help but smile a little. The kennelmaster once told her that an animal takes after its master. She gave Lady a quick little hug. Lady licked her cheek. Sansa giggled.

So the little lady got her first lesson on dogs from Winterfell's kennelmaster, Farlen, no less. She'll later apply this knowledge to a certain huge hound, most notably in the scene on Maegor's rooftop, where she'll compare Sandor to a dog that'll bite anyone who tries to pet him but will loyally defend his masters from any threat. I think that's a really accurate and very poignant way of summing up his service with his lion masters, and also puts into perspective why he starts to break away once the collision of core values with them aligns with the appearance of someone willing to bring forth his better side.

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Thank you, Ornitorrinca! No, there won't. Some chapters touch quite contested topics, as happens with Sandor II, and those will have a "Feature Commentary" by one of the hosts expanding on the specific topic of controversy, in addition to the regular chapter summary/analysis. The analysis by OGE covers Sandor II, and my Commentary is the last for AGOT, meant also to wrap up my two-parts examination of bias and literary techniques started with the intro essay. The best way to avoid getting ahead is just have a look at the list of chapters posted in the OP, of course. The Trident encounter with Sansa is within those grouped together in Sandor II, where we currently are still in, so you're free to go in-depth on that.

Great analysis of the Lannister service as the source of condemnation for Sandor and the Stark conflict/Gregor as methods to revert the negativity, bringing up the broader picture is so spot on.

<snip>

Thank you.

So if Sandor III is going to be the Hand's Tourney we still have Bran III (his three-eyed crow awakening dream) in Sandor II that has not been discussed.

He looked south, and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king, his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night, and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood.

There is some debate about the identity of the giant but GRRM certainly intends to tease Gregor as the giant whether or not that's his intended vision fulfillment. Given Gregor's role as a tool in Sandor's redemption it might be worth poking around Bran's vision now. The other two shadows are pretty clearly Jaime and Sandor. On a first read this seems like threats surrounding the Starks. That Sandor might not be a threatening shadow will surface only a few chapters later and has a good deal of support in the first book. Jaime will remain firmly in the perceived threat camp until the latter half of SoS. Shadows will emerge as a metaphor for the projection of power but also retain their evil ickyness feel from Mel's shadow babies that so unnerve Davos. Darkness also gets a revised connotation both in Arya and Bran where its hiding characteristic is highly valued, but still retains the negative feel from things like The Long Night. Also the them from shadows all around them could refer to Arya and Sansa or Ned, Arya, and Sansa since Ned is alone in his own sentence and may or may not be lumped into them. I would suspect only Arya and Sansa since this still seems to be playing out and Ned isn't.

One of the more significant effects is that this raises the importance of Sandor Clegane as a secondary character. Ser Rodrik would seem an equally if not more important character given his role in training the Stark children, travelling with Cat, and running Winterfell for Bran in his minority. But this prophetic scene elevates the narrative importance of the Hound considerably and adds weight to his appearances that other seemingly more prominent characters lack. There is also the context of the vision with Bran naming his wolf Summer after seeing into the heart of the Ice Zombie apocalypse that looms over the plot since the prologue contrasted with Lady's death. Of course Lady and Mycah's death are connected in both the presentation and comparison of Ned and Sandor as the willing and unwilling headsman of the king and queen under the larger umbrella of justice.

Any thoughts on how Bran's vision ties into Sandor's arc?

To start, the descriptions seem broken down into armor/face. Gregor(?) stone armor and no face but thick black blood. The stone fist on his helm is mentioned earlier and there might be something to that. Jaime is armored in gold like the sun and the beautiful would seem to be his facial description. Sandor's "armor" would be dark as ash and he has the same terrible face description Ned uses when the king's party arrives at Winterfell. Ash is the remnants of fire but also a tree, both of which could be meaningful in the context of his armor.

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Gregor and Sandor obviously are big characters who are integral part of the story and they are supposed to hang on till the end. They both died and were reborn in their own ways and eventually their paths have to cross (though certainly not in Cersei’s trial by combat). The TV show did a good job when they decided to make the scenes that are preparing us for Gravedigger and UnGregor simultaneous.


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Seeing potential for change in Sansa I.



Okay, well, these aren’t exactly deep thoughts or even “new insight.” In fact, anyone reading this thread might consider them a given. But then again, many readers take what’s written at face value; and especially when talking about Sandor, I get the feeling that some readers have judged him guilty of being a Bad Guy since scene one and every mention of him just gives more damning evidence of his evil nature. This scene seems to work to incite those people - until you look under the surface. That’s why I wanted to put this out here. The next few paragraphs examine how this scene fits into the greater scheme of things with respect to Sandor’s will to change.




…She stepped backward and bumped into someone.



Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his face twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile. “You are shaking, girl,” he said, his voice rasping. “Do I frighten you so much?”



He did, and had since she had first laid eyes on the ruin that face had made of his face…



What does it look like on the surface?


1-Creepy guy creepily grasps POV character’s shoulders.


2-Creepy guy mocks her with his smile.


3-Creepy guy taunts her about his face: she mentally confirms that yes, he does scare her.


4-Creepy guy makes fun of her wolf and her family


5-Creepy guy is told to GTFO.



First, the use of the word “mockery,” a word with negative connotations. Throughout the books, the concept of mocking comes up all the time. By the time Sansa backs up into him, we’ve been conditioned to see this person in a bad light: both Arya I and Tyrion I show us that the Hound engages in mocking behavior. On a first read, we’re impelled to think “oh, no, not this jerk again. First Robb and Ser Rodrik, then Tyrion, now he’s mocking a little girl.” (And of course his coup-de-grace as a Bad Guy comes just a few pages later) A second reading or just a close reading shows that this isn’t necessarily the case.



I think it’s important to see a difference between “a mocking ___” and “a mockery of (a) ___;” Martin gives us examples of both.



In ACoK, Littlefinger speaks with Tyrion and is described as having a “mocking smile.” Why? Because in that particular scene he’s making fun of Tyrion’s offer to eat with him and its implications. Sansa reflects upon her union with Tyrion as “a mockery of a marriage.” Why? Because it is a ridiculous, offensive imitation of a real marriage. When Sandor makes fun of Sansa’s beliefs, the verb “mock” is employed twice: he certainly does mock her at times.


So the use here of “a mockery of a smile” instead of “a mocking smile” should be construed not as him mocking her, but as something else. Why is it “a mockery of a smile?” Because Sandor’s smile, by its very nature, would be a mockery of a “normal” smile. His scarred face prevents him from having a regular smile.



Taking this in conjunction with the whole scene, from when she bumps into him until he is dismissed, none of his actions seem badly meant. Grasping her shoulders in what must have been a reassuring manner (reassuring because she assumes it is her father) is, at the very least, a respectful gesture towards Joffrey’s betrothed, rather than a creeper-move. Most others could not have hoped to receive such treatment from the Hound. It could also be considered a risky move, since her status as Joffrey’s betrothed should have kept her “off-limits” to other men’s hands; if she’d started screaming about it, he’d have been in an awkward situation.



Then, his question to her. His self-consciousness is evident here: he knows just about everyone is afraid of his face and that Sansa is no exception, but he also must know that, if she’s backing up into him, his face is not the reason she’s freaking out. The (bitter, self-deprecating) question actually serves to guide her away from the true source of her fear. So the idea that his smile is kindly meant (or at least primarily so; he must know that even his winningest smile is still scary and the Hound can’t just go around handing out daisies- he’s got a reputation to maintain) doesn’t seem like such a stretch. Finally, as Brashcandy said, he tries to diffuse the tense situation concerning Lady by joking that the Starks use direwolves as wet nurses. On the surface, it sounds like another hurtful, mocking remark about the Stark family, but here I think Brashcandy has the right of it. He’s helping but never outright “breaking character.”



Also really important here is the placement of this exchange. We’ve been introduced to Sandor several times now, always with negative reinforcement. In the next chapter, the Hound commits his most damnable act. Once we start seeing positive changes in Sandor’s behavior, it’ll be important to remember this scene because it shows that these changes don’t come out of nowhere. They don’t spontaneously self-generate or appear purely thanks to external influence. What we see here, basically at the beginning of the story and smack dab in the middle of really negative Hound-scenes, is that Sandor has always had it in him to be compassionate and to empathize. He needed to find "the will to change," and he does find that motivation, but you can’t change into a good person if you don’t already have it somewhere inside of you.





Then, after the effort he employed to connect with this girl and help her calm down, he’s insulted and rudely dismissed by Joffrey. This is nothing new and it won’t be the last time it happens, but it has to smart to see your good efforts go for naught and the person you wanted to help turn to Joffrey of all people for comfort. Maybe this influenced his decision to take Joffrey’s dismissal at face value and not keep an eye on him from afar, against his better judgment.



Finally, it’s in this chapter that readers are introduced to Ser Ilyn Payne. It’s through a Sansa POV, which I think is important because I feel like Ser Ilyn has a lot of parallels and foils with Sandor and those differences especially are illustrated quite well through Sansa’s eyes. [both were maimed in the facial area as punishment for an act of defiance, both are Lannister henchmen, both act in capacity of headsmen (Ser Ilyn officially, the Hound more as “go get him”), both are universally feared; the differences between the two come out later in the story.]


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On one hand, Bran's dream gives me hope for Sandor's arc because it implies that his story is definitely not finished. It also shows him looking quite redeemed. He's defending the girls (something he's already done). On the other hand, I've feared for some time that Martin is trolling me, and the fact that the description of the two shadows dovetails so nicely with our introduction to Sandor and Jaime means nothing. Those shadows are someone dressed in Jaime's armor or similarly and someone else wearing the Hound's helm. But Sandor is closely associated with shadows so this makes my first impression of hope win out over my doubts.



I also found it disconcerting that it seems to describe an event that still hasn't happened, as of ADwD. Cat on the ship with Ser Rodrik, Ned pleading with the king, Maester Luwin, etc. - all these other parts of the vision have come to pass, up until he sees what's happening in the far North. "Sansa crying herself to sleep and Arya holding her secrets hard in her heart" have happened, also, but I think those two examples continue. Maybe Sansa doesn't cry every single night, but ever since the Trident Incident this part of the prophecy has been coming true for both girls. This is similar to the Ghost of High Heart's prophecy, where everything has happened except Sansa slaying the savage giant. Could these two 'giant' prophecies and their delayed occurrences have something in common?



In addition to the stone fist allusion, the "thick black blood" that pours out from the giant's helmet also makes me think it refers to Gregor due to the poison that Oberyn had on his spear. Since Sandor has been nowhere near unGregor physically speaking, it does seem to indicate a future confrontation.


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Thanks to you and Brashcandy for your welcome, but actually I've been here since page one! :grouphug:

Allow me to quote myself from back then, regarding this topic of yours than I'm quoting above.

Up until now, it looks like the one that people fear is the Hound, rather than just Sandor Clegane.

"The Hound" looks more like a public role rather than an actual identity, kinda like Jaime Lannister is "Jaime, the individual" as well as "the Kingslayer".

The two identities coexist and sometimes overlap, but the nickname alone doesn't tell the true and complete story.

I wish I could elaborate more on this but I don't want to spoil the reread... for now let's just say that I believe that "the Hound's identity" travels togheter with this creepy helmet.

@Bright Blue Eyes: nice catches!

LOL! You are correct! It was Alvonnic I meant to welcome. :)

FEATURED COMMENTARY:

Murder as a plot device and its impact on bias

To the extent that I've been able to make the characters real, people invest in them emotionally, they identify with them, and they like or dislike other of the characters. They argue about themI find that very gratifying. It's one of the things that suggests to me that what I'm doing with the characters is working. When I hear from different fans who have varying opinions about a character, about who's a good guy and who's a bad guy, and who they'd like to live and who they'd like to dieit's not always the expected ones, and they disagree sharply with each other. That's a good sign. In real life, people don't always like the same people. People make moral judgments that differ sharply with each otherwitness some of the arguments we see going on about the current election. People should respond to fictional characters in the same way. If you introduce a character who everybody loves, or who everybody hates, that's probably a sign that that character's a little too one-dimensional, because in real life there's no one that everybody loves, and there's no one that everybody hates.

George R. R. Martin, in an interview.

When discussing personal change-based arcs in ASOIAF like those of Sandor, Jaime and Theon, the most divisive topic is probably that of child-killing. In broad strokes, the diverging sides will argue either in favour of discernment through attenuating surrounding circumstances and contextual liability, or will argue based on questions of morality and justice that provide cause for impeaching and judging them. However, theres one factor that doesnt get discussed as much yet does have considerable influence on the matter on a meta-conscious level, and that does mould peoples opinion to variable extents, wheresoever they may stand.

Excellent job, Milday! In addition to the psychology and literary analysis lessons, the Sandor-Jaime-Theon redemption arc analysis has been incredibly enlightening, as I've often compared Sandor and Jaime, but never really explored Theon's redemption arc in comparison to the two until your introductory essay. I second brashcandy's comment about how insightful the grouping of the three is to understanding GRRM's use of such heinous acts as a plot device to shape bias and establish a redemption arc. And great point about Arya playing the triple role of champion, judge and executioner.

Your commentary and the following observations by all the other reread participants brings to mind Ragnorak's ping-ponging across the sympathy line comment he made at the beginning of the thread. Sandor is initially established as an unlikable character through the eyes of Ned and Tyrion, yet we see a softer side to him in Sansa's POV. Albeit very subtle, it forces the careful reader to reevaluate him (and we'll read more about his oddly gentle touch). When she backs into him and mistakes him for her father, in addition to foreshadowing the role he'll eventually occupy in her life, the theme of protector appears. Momentarily, he made Sansa feel safe. And while she thinks he does frighten her, she realizes he's not really that frightening after all, especially in comparison to Ser Ilyn Payne. Just a bit later, she questions Joffrey's decision to dismiss Sandor, asking if that would be wise. Even though Joffrey thinks his dog scares her so, her questioning the decision implies that Sandor's presence makes her feel safe. Had it been Ilyn Payne in Sandor's stead, Sansa would have welcomed his dismissal with emphatic relief. And just as soon as he's introduced sympathetically through Sansa's POV, we have him crossing the line to the other side due to the killing of Mycah, earning the enmity of the readers. I'll make a quick mention since I don't want to jump too far ahead, but Sandor will soon cross the sympathy line again in both Sansa's and Ned's upcoming POVs (Ragnorak has also already expounded on this, especially in his insightful Sandor as Sword compared to Shield analysis).

Thanks, Brashcandy! I'd wanted for ages to do a comparative analysis of bias and literary techniques using those three characters, although my initial outline had been quite different.

I like your point on him having his own albeit more complex "POV champion" too. One of the many reasons his redemptive arc is so interesting for analysis is that it has the distinctive feature of being shaped through the eyes of women, for in late AGOT/ACOK he is Sansas man, in ASOS he is Aryas and in AFFC/ADWD he is Briennes, making his presence in the male narrative minimal in comparison to the female-focused narratives he is in. And each woman has a different attitude towards him, from condemnatory to empathetic and more, which each seep into our own assessment of the character; each serves as a narrator showing a different stage of his path towards change from beginning to the Quiet Isle, and Martin has made sure to create links between all three that'll be unveiled as we make progress. Two details in particular stood out to me, one related to this unsympathetic/sympathetic dichotomy you allude to: both Sandor and Sansa are shown in the younger Stark girl's first AGOT chapter in ways that elicit reactions that will be challenged aheadand upon posterior rereads too, when we become more conscious of the writing devices at play; and the second, concerning strictly his redemption, is that the three girls mentioned have a prayer he is in directly or indirectly: the first one, Arya's, asks for the death of the Hound, the second one, Sansa's, asks for the betterment of the Hound, and the third one, Brienne's, asks for a sign leading to the maiden of three-and-ten she's questing for, before she arrives to the monastery.

Milady, another great observation about Sandor being perceived through the POVs of three women. Even though his relationships with each differ dramatically, he's perceived as sympathetic through each. He acts as protector for both Sansa and Arya (even though their attitudes toward him are dramatically different), and while Brienne is hunting him with the intent to kill, the readers understand she's misguided, assuming Sandor's motivations and actions were sinister, as not only is Sandor not guilty of the sack of the Saltpans, but has kept Arya alive with the intent of getting her to her family. The Elder Brother's speech to Brienne also further elicits the readers' sympathies.

With regard to Bran's prophecy, while Sandor and Jaime, upon first read, appear ominous and a threat to the Starks, once their characters are more fully fleshed out and readers are introduced to Gregor, they emerge as allies to the Starks (Jaime more slowly than Sandor). I agree with both Ragnorak and ornitorrinca that Sandor's appearance in the prophecy establishes him as a very important secondary character and strongly infers that his story is far from finished. I also expect an eventual confrontation between Sandor and UnGregor, just not as opponents in Cersei's trial by combat.

Mithras' observation that both Sandor and UnGregor have both been reborn is also significant. After Sandor makes his break from the Lannisters upon recalibrating his moral compass, he is metaphorically reborn by shedding the Hound persona. If he emerges with his rage placed behind him, he will then be able to live a constructive and meaningful life, allowing him to forge healthy relationships with others, unlike his very dysfunctional relationship with the Lannisters. In contrast, Gregor has been depicted as figurative monster, but then is transformed into a literal monster by the Lannisters.

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He looked south, and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king, his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night, and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood.

There is some debate about the identity of the giant but GRRM certainly intends to tease Gregor as the giant whether or not that's his intended vision fulfillment. Given Gregor's role as a tool in Sandor's redemption it might be worth poking around Bran's vision now. The other two shadows are pretty clearly Jaime and Sandor. On a first read this seems like threats surrounding the Starks. That Sandor might not be a threatening shadow will surface only a few chapters later and has a good deal of support in the first book. Jaime will remain firmly in the perceived threat camp until the latter half of SoS. Shadows will emerge as a metaphor for the projection of power but also retain their evil ickyness feel from Mel's shadow babies that so unnerve Davos. Darkness also gets a revised connotation both in Arya and Bran where its hiding characteristic is highly valued, but still retains the negative feel from things like The Long Night. Also the them from shadows all around them could refer to Arya and Sansa or Ned, Arya, and Sansa since Ned is alone in his own sentence and may or may not be lumped into them. I would suspect only Arya and Sansa since this still seems to be playing out and Ned isn't.

One of the more significant effects is that this raises the importance of Sandor Clegane as a secondary character. Ser Rodrik would seem an equally if not more important character given his role in training the Stark children, travelling with Cat, and running Winterfell for Bran in his minority. But this prophetic scene elevates the narrative importance of the Hound considerably and adds weight to his appearances that other seemingly more prominent characters lack. There is also the context of the vision with Bran naming his wolf Summer after seeing into the heart of the Ice Zombie apocalypse that looms over the plot since the prologue contrasted with Lady's death. Of course Lady and Mycah's death are connected in both the presentation and comparison of Ned and Sandor as the willing and unwilling headsman of the king and queen under the larger umbrella of justice.

Any thoughts on how Bran's vision ties into Sandor's arc?

To start, the descriptions seem broken down into armor/face. Gregor(?) stone armor and no face but thick black blood. The stone fist on his helm is mentioned earlier and there might be something to that. Jaime is armored in gold like the sun and the beautiful would seem to be his facial description. Sandor's "armor" would be dark as ash and he has the same terrible face description Ned uses when the king's party arrives at Winterfell. Ash is the remnants of fire but also a tree, both of which could be meaningful in the context of his armor.

I'm glad you brought this up Rag. I see the "them" of the vision being Arya & Sansa. One thing I've noticed in the past that the "identifiers" are seemingly things that the three characters in question (Jaime, Sandor, Gregor) eventually cast off-- the golden armor Jaime carefully notes that he wore the day he killed Aerys, the Hound's helmet, and Gregor's identity as "the Mountain"

Taking the idea of change as a theme, I believe this dream could link the redemptive arcs of Jaime and Sandor with each other and with the two Stark girls. Also, note that Jaime, not unlike Sandor, has unfinished business with Gregor Clegane-- seventeen years ago he failed to save Rhaegar's wife and child from him.

So in terms of the dream as future gazing (which it definitely seems to be in light of the next passage of the dream dealing with Jon) it could indicate some important actions (not necessarily taken together) on the part of Sandor and Jaime that protect the girls from the "looming giant" of the vision.

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I'm glad you brought this up Rag. I see the "them" of the vision being Arya & Sansa. One thing I've noticed in the past that the "identifiers" are seemingly things that the three characters in question (Jaime, Sandor, Gregor) eventually cast off-- the golden armor Jaime carefully notes that he wore the day he killed Aerys, the Hound's helmet, and Gregor's identity as "the Mountain"

Taking the idea of change as a theme, I believe this dream could link the redemptive arcs of Jaime and Sandor with each other and with the two Stark girls. Also, note that Jaime, not unlike Sandor, has unfinished business with Gregor Clegane-- seventeen years ago he failed to save Rhaegar's wife and child from him.

So in terms of the dream as future gazing (which it definitely seems to be in light of the next passage of the dream dealing with Jon) it could indicate some important actions (not necessarily taken together) on the part of Sandor and Jaime that protect the girls from the "looming giant" of the vision.

I really like this idea, and the 'looming giant' could be several different threats.

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More on the rebirth of Sandor and Gregor:



They both seem to be improved in their new lives by getting rid of the troubles that plagued them in their past lives.



Sandor was troubled by his Hound persona and by getting rid of his helmet, he found his inner peace.



Gregor was troubled with terrible headaches and now, it appears that he found a sure cure for his headache :D



ETA:



About Sandor's future, I agree that the safety of the Stark girls will be a motivator for him and he will be involved in their fates eventually. But before that, I think he might go north and take the black.



There might be possible foreshadowing for this:



“Too many corpses, these days.” The Elder Brother sighed. “Our gravedigger knows no rest.”



Too many corpses are coming through the river and the gravedigger has to deal with them relentlessly. This sounds like the wight problem. It is also in conjunction with how Tyrion japed about giving 100 spades to Thorne and stating that if they bury the dead, they will not come back. Another nice thing about Sandor taking the black is that he will have to use fire to slay the wights. In North, fire will be his best friend. This works well for Ser Sandor who will have overcome his fear of the fire and found his inner peace.


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So the use here of “a mockery of a smile” instead of “a mocking smile” should be construed not as him mocking her, but as something else. Why is it “a mockery of a smile?” Because Sandor’s smile, by its very nature, would be a mockery of a “normal” smile. His scarred face prevents him from having a regular smile.

That’s true. And yet, for all that his scarred side makes his smiling look terrible, Sandor isn't at all self-conscious about smiling and laughing freely. Going through all his appearances book by book, anyone would be surprised at just how much he tends to laugh and smile, contradicting many assumptions, and it's not always bitter or scornful or defensive, he is seen laughing genuinely too, as we’ll see when we get to the end of this and the second book, where it’s more evident. This scene is the first time Sansa describes his smile as a mockery, and it is informed by her fear rather than by the appearance itself, and works fine contrasting it with what she thinks of Joffrey's lips: in the phase she is currently in, when she fancies herself in love, she dreamily thinks his lips are beautiful; but later when she comes to hate him, she’ll describe them as two fat worms. The inverse is true for Sandor, from calling it a "mockery" of a smile here, she’ll go to taking note of all times when he smiles and laughs, with no trace of a negative thought about its appearance, moreover revealing that for all his complaints that she won't look at his face, she does look at it rather an awful lot and he doesn't realise.

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So in terms of the dream as future gazing (which it definitely seems to be in light of the next passage of the dream dealing with Jon) it could indicate some important actions (not necessarily taken together) on the part of Sandor and Jaime that protect the girls from the "looming giant" of the vision.

Nice post, Gwyn. It's relevant here to note Littlefinger as a candidate for a looming giant, even if he's not the one particularly referenced in Bran's dream. He has a stone armour in the form of his family sigil that features the Titan of Braavos, and his role in the destructive fallout of the Lannister/Stark conflict goes without saying. Arya thinks to herself upon reaching Braavos that the Titan could step over the walls of Winterfell, and Littlefinger will later do just that in the snow castle scene with Sansa. Also, your point on the "identifiers" being cast off by the three men in the vision could apply to LF, as he does not claim his family sigil, but prefers to go with the "harmless" mockingbird.

If Sandor and Jaime are to become entangled with Ungregor, Cersei might be the instigating factor, as she hopes to win her trial using Robert Strong as her champion and regain some kind of power. It's interesting to consider how Jaime and Sandor also relate as "valonqars" - little brothers that have profoundly complicated and contentious relationships with their older siblings.

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I'm getting here a little late (several posts got eaten up with recent site crashes) but want to thank the OP, the familiar faces from the PtP threads, and people like OGE, Mad Madam and LongRider I already know from other threads on Sandor, with or without Sansa. I may lurk more than post since while I do have decent analytical skills, I have a tendency not to take the time to dig deep and often miss important details. So thanks again to all of you for teasing the important things out of the text, placing in context and all the cross referencing. I've totally lost count of how many times I've seen both Sandor and Sansa get their entire arcs judged by the Trident incident, so mad props to OGE, Milady and everyone else on this discussion for the thorough analysis and connecting the dots.



I don't want to go too far OT, since this thread is more about Sandor specifically, but I think the overall theme at the Trident is observing the contrast between how the Starks and Lannisters observe the same social structures but apply them differently; ranging from relationships with their banner houses and small folk, to king's justice. As well as being honorable, I think Ned also had more pragmatic reasons for blurring class lines more than lords in more moderate climates...survival literally depending on people working together and leadership needing to be a bit more "hands on." A less corrupt Southron house than the Lannisters may have handled things much more sanely, but there still would have been serious concerns raised about Arya simply deciding to play at swords with Mycah.



As the story moves along, and we start to peel layers away I notice is how much Sandor's core values start to match up with what we see in the North and how this plays out not only with Sansa, but in his later arc with Arya. I don't want to get too far ahead here, but I will say I'm more than looking forward to checking in with this particular reread. Cheers! :cheers:


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Well I have had a devil of a time trying to get on this site the past week. Anyway, before moving on to the next grouping of POVs I had a few observations from this section. In Sansa 1, right at the outset her association with a dog as protector is being established. This is Sansa's first on screen appearance from her viewpoint and right away Septa Mordane calls Lady a dog, highlighting Sansa's association with the guard dog theme that Sandor will fulfill. When we first see them interact together she bumps into him and he steadies her with a strong hand. He's already acting as her protector in that instance. She and Joff's discussion about how Sandor was his mother's dog and now he guards Joff again reinforces the guard dog theme and when Joff says they should leave him behind when they go riding, Sansa feels unsure this is a wise decision. She is already feeling uneasy about leaving him, the guard dog, behind. This is highlighted again later when they near the area where Arya and Mycah are sparring, as Sansa feels anxious and wishes Lady was with her.



Also this time I took notice of the "butcher" theme and realized how that is set up here and this too will follow the Hound character. Joff refers to Mycah as "A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight," and this could also be a description of Sandor. He'll later tell Sansa how the weak are all just meat and he is the butcher, and if I remember correctly, the Saltpans atrocities will be committed by a man wearing the Hound's helm who will come to be known as the butcher of Satlpans.


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I don't want to go too far OT, since this thread is more about Sandor specifically, but I think the overall theme at the Trident is observing the contrast between how the Starks and Lannisters observe the same social structures but apply them differently; ranging from relationships with their banner houses and small folk, to king's justice. As well as being honorable, I think Ned also had more pragmatic reasons for blurring class lines more than lords in more moderate climates...survival literally depending on people working together and leadership needing to be a bit more "hands on." A less corrupt Southron house than the Lannisters may have handled things much more sanely, but there still would have been serious concerns raised about Arya simply deciding to play at swords with Mycah.

As the story moves along, and we start to peel layers away I notice is how much Sandor's core values start to match up with what we see in the North and how this plays out not only with Sansa, but in his later arc with Arya.

Thank you, Duchess of Spork, be welcome to the reread. And feel free to participate whenever you can even if a little, please. Sometimes a brief post, a passing observation, a small detail, etc., can spark interesting discussions and lead to more extensive research of the text to expand on the question, which is always welcome in long-running projects as rereads tend to be.

It's a nice observation you make on Sandor's values aligning more with the Northern example; it's one of the fascinating points of his storyline, to unravel the numerous allusions to the North as we go. There's a good number of these, that pop up often enough and not always so subtly, like it happens with his First Man appearance and the obvious link to Ned that starts in this chapter and continues later. And indeed, besides the differences in Eddard's approach to justice/ruling and his temperament, it's worth considering the nature of the climate and of Winterfell as essentially a city-fortress designed to survive harsh winters does require a "let's dirty our hands" type of leadership and closer interaction with the household and smallfolk, which makes him comparatively forward-minded for a nobleman as OGE noted, and it shows in all of Ned's children to varying degrees, even in the most ladylike of them all. It's hard to imagine Cersei seeking advice on pets from the Casterly Rock kennelmaster as Sansa did, or any of the Lannister siblings sending choice bits from the high table to servants because they loved them as Bran did, or the guards daring to chase the twins away from the lions' cage or catching them cross-dressed as the guards of Winterfell and the cook chase Bran and Arya when they're being mischievous. Tywin frowned on cheerfulness, so he'd not have approved of childish snowball battles with the captain of guards either, when Ned didn't care about that; and even though Casterly Rock is also huge enough to be considered a city-fortress, we don't see Tywin calling the servants responsible of each area to his table to hear their concerns. That's what stewards are for, and it'd be beneath the dignity of a Lannister ex-Hand of the King to be bothered about household chores. And like with the Starks, his philosophy on treating with the commoners also bleeds on his offspring to varying extents, most of all Cersei. Both patriarchs made mistakes with their respective children, and with regard to this specific scene Stark's was not instructing his about the ambient they'd find in the south, didn't tell the younger it would be different outside of home and would require adaptation, and both his girls paid the price for that omission during the Trident.

Next we move on to Sandor III, in which we'll be focusing on the Hand's Tourney and surrounding circumstances, and the chapter analysis is to be presented by Brashcandy tomorrow.

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SANDOR III

THE HAND’S TOURNEY

· Eddard V

· Sansa II

· Eddard VII

SUMMARY

The city is hosting a grand tourney in honour of the King’s hand, Eddard Stark, and the first mention of the Hound regarding these festivities occurs in Ned’s fifth POV chapter, when Littlefinger reveals that Sandor was unhorsed by Barristan Selmy in the previous year’s joust. It is in Sansa’s second POV, with the young girl experiencing the intoxicating pleasure of attending such an extravagant and exciting event, that we learn of the Hound’s intention to try his luck again. In view of the dominance he will attain in this tourney, the initial reference to his participation is remarkably unremarkable:

The Hound entered the lists as well, and so too the King’s brother, handsome Lord Renly of Storm’s End.

The next time Sansa makes reference to him is later in the day, and with many knights already defeated, his prowess is now highlighted alongside his brother’s:

Sandor Clegane and his immense brother, Ser Gregor the Mountain, seemed unstoppable as well, riding down one foe after the next in ferocious style.

The shocking death of Ser Hugh of the Vale shows how ferociously dangerous Gregor Clegane can be, and while Jeyne begins to cry uncontrollably and has to be escorted off by Septa Mordane, Sansa keeps her composure, feeling a sense of melancholy for the young knight’s death. The last to fall to the Hound before the day’s end is Lord Renly:

Renly was unhorsed so violently that he seemed to fly backward off his charger, legs in the air. His head hit the ground with an audible crack that made the crowd gasp, but it was just the golden antler on his helm. One of the tines had snapped off beneath him. When Lord Renly climbed to his feet, the commons cheered wildly, for King Robert’s handsome young brother was a great favorite. He handed the broken tine to his conqueror with a gracious bow. The Hound snorted and tossed the broken antler into the crowd, where the commons began to punch and claw over the little bit of gold, until Lord Renly walked out among them and restored the peace. By then Septa Mordane had returned, alone. Jeyne had been feeling ill, she explained; she had helped her back to the castle. Sansa had almost forgotten about Jeyne.

Septa Mordane’s drunken slumber at the feast later in the night prompts Joffrey to call Sandor into duty to escort Sansa back to the Red Keep:

Sandor Clegane seemed to form out of the night, so quickly did he appear…“Did you think Joff was going to take you himself?” He laughed. He had a laugh like the snarling of dogs in a pit.

As they walk, Sansa thinks to herself that while she is frightened of his face, she ought to attempt to be courteous and compliment him on his riding. This earns an instant rebuke from the Hound, and his deep distaste for knights rises to the surface:

“Spare me your empty little compliments, girl … and your ser’s. I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows. My brother is a knight. Did you see him ride today?”

“Yes,” Sansa whispered, trembling. “He was …”

“Gallant?” the Hound finished.

He was mocking her, she realized. “No one could withstand him,” she managed at last, proud of herself. It was no lie.

Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. “Some septa trained you well. You’re like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren’t you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite.”

He follows this reprimand by revealing to Sansa the truth about Ser Hugh’s death and the fact that Gregor’s lance didn’t stab the boy by accident. Forcing her to look at his face, he then tells the chilling story of the violence he suffered at his brother’s hands as a young boy. The story elicits considerable empathy on Sansa’s part and she tells him that Gregor was no true knight. The Hound laughingly agrees with her, and they make the final part of the journey back to her room, where, before leaving, he threatens to kill her if she tells anyone the true story of his scars.

Eddard VII picks up the narrative the next day at the tourney, and Sandor’s first match is against the Jaime Lannister. While Ned holds no investment whatsoever in the match, he notices that Sansa is watching it “moist-eyed and eager.” Littlefinger and Renly place bets on the Kingslayer and the Hound respectively:

“A hundred golden dragons on the Kingslayer,” Littlefinger announced loudly as Jaime Lannister entered the lists, riding an elegant blood bay destrier. The horse wore a blanket of gilded ringmail, and Jaime glittered from head to heel. Even his lance was fashioned from the golden wood of the Summer Isles.

“Done,” Lord Renly shouted back. “The Hound has a hungry look about him this morning.” “Even hungry dogs know better than to bite the hand that feeds them,” Littlefinger called dryly. Sandor Clegane dropped his visor with an audible clang and took up his position. Ser Jaime tossed a kiss to some woman in the commons, gently lowered his visor, and rode to the end of the lists. Both men couched their lances.

Sandor is nearly unhorsed by Jaime, but recovers just in time and goes on to win the tilt, while Jaime ends up “golden and dented” in the dirt. With the next match beginning between Ser Gregor and Ser Loras of Highgarden, Ned thinks about the infamous reputation the Mountain holds:

Unlike his brother, Ser Gregor did not live at court. He was a solitary man who seldom left his own lands, but for wars and tourneys. He had been with Lord Tywin when King’s Landing fell, a
new-made knight of seventeen years, even then distinguished by his size and his implacable ferocity. Some said it had been Gregor who’d dashed the skull of the infant prince Aegon Targaryen against a wall, and whispered that afterward he had raped the mother, the Dornish princess Elia, before putting her to the sword. These things were not said in Gregor’s hearing.

Ned Stark could not recall ever speaking to the man, though Gregor had ridden with them during Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion, one knight among thousands. He watched him with disquiet. Ned seldom put much stock in gossip, but the things said of Ser Gregor were more than ominous. He was soon to be married for the third time, and one heard dark whisperings about the deaths of his first two wives. It was said that his keep was a grim place where servants disappeared unaccountably and even the dogs were afraid to enter the hall. And there had been a sister who had died young under queer circumstances, and the fire that had disfigured his brother, and the hunting accident that had killed their father. Gregor had inherited the keep, the gold, and the family estates. His younger brother Sandor had left the same day to take service with the Lannisters as a sworn sword, and it was said that he had never returned, not even to visit.

If Ser Hugh’s death was left open to ominous speculation by those familiar with Gregor’s “accidents,” his attack on Ser Loras leaves no doubt about the kind of man that the Lannisters have in their service. The Hound’s laughter at his brother’s fall in the joust quickly ends when the Mountain viciously kills his horse and goes after the Knight of Flowers in a rage:

It all happened so fast. The Knight of Flowers was shouting for his own sword as Ser Gregor knocked his squire aside and made a grab for the reins of his horse. The mare scented blood and reared. Loras Tyrell kept his seat, but barely. Ser Gregor swung his sword, a savage two-handed blow that took the boy in the chest and knocked him from the saddle. The courser dashed away in panic as Ser Loras lay stunned in the dirt. But as Gregor lifted his sword for the killing blow, a rasping voice warned, “Leave him be,” and a steel-clad hand wrenched him away from the boy.

The fight between the brothers ends upon the orders of the King and, as Sansa anticipates, the Hound is named champion of the tourney when Ser Loras declines a final match in order to honour him for his heroics. Sandor wins not only the sizeable champion’s purse, but “perhaps for the first time in his life, the love of the commons.”

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ANALYSIS

TRAUMA AND TESTIMONY

The Hand’s tourney, with all its pomp and pageantry, displays of gallantry, tricks and treachery, doesn’t seem at first like a place where any character can be laid bare before us, or where Martin would even consider an appropriate setting for truth-telling. But this is precisely what happens with Sandor’s narrative, a critical development that reveals what it is that haunts the man and, most significantly, a development that for the first time since he is introduced at Winterfell, acts to profoundly humanise him in the reader’s eyes. This is achieved, I will argue, through the literary mode of testimony, an act of bearing witness to the trauma he suffered and survived as a young boy.

In Trauma and Literary Studies: Some “Enabling Questions,” Elissa Marder explores the meaning of trauma which is relevant for our understanding of the Hound’s predicament:

The word “trauma” comes from the ancient Greek meaning “wound.” Although the precise
definition of the modern concept of trauma varies accordingly to context and discipline,
there is the general consensus that if trauma is a wound, it is a very peculiar kind of wound.
There is no specific set of physical manifestations identifying trauma, and it almost invariably
produces repeated, uncontrollable, and incalculable effects that endure long after its ostensible
“precipitating cause”. Further, because traumatic events often happen due to social forces
as well as in the social world, trauma has an inherently political, historical, and ethical dimension.

Although he bears terrible burn scars on his face, these do not in themselves hold meaning in designating Sandor as a trauma victim. Rather, the scars act like markers, pointing to a deeper pathology that only the man himself can reveal. To put it another way, the wound that Sandor carries is not represented by his burns, but in the effects it generates: his ingrained cynical outlook on the world; the anger that is always so close to the surface; the pronounced aversion and disgust shown towards the institution of knighthood; and last, but certainly not least, the “desire” to kill his brother. This doesn’t operate in the usual manner of wish and resolve that structures normal human desires. It is instead something unique to Sandor’s trauma, a desire that he is compelled to repeat, a kind of coping strategy that enables him to function. This is revealed by Sandor’s seemingly contradictory words and actions during the tourney. When he is called to escort Sansa at the end of the feast, he tells her:

“Come, you’re not the only one needs sleep. I’ve drunk too much, and I may need to kill my brother tomorrow.”

However, when tomorrow comes and Gregor’s brutal attack on Loras provides him with not only opportunity, but justification, we read:

The Mountain pivoted in wordless fury, swinging his longsword in a killing arc with all his massive strength behind it, but the Hound

caught the blow and turned it, and for what seemedan eternity the two brothers stood hammering at each other as a dazed Loras Tyrell

was helped to safety. Thrice Ned saw Ser Gregor aim savage blows at the hound’s-head helmet, yet not once did Sandor send

a cut at his brother’s unprotected face.

If Sandor’s trauma resurfaces at the Hand’s tourney, it is not simply because of the mere presence of his brother at the event. As I see it, it is Gregor’s more covert act in killing Ser Hugh that brings the spectre of his brother’s menace back, and this, when combined with his later encounter with the naïveté and presumed superficiality of Sansa Stark, compels Sandor into giving, for perhaps the first time of his life, the testimony of what happened to him as a child. Like Ser Hugh, the violence that was done against Sandor is attributed to an accident by his father; and in what is reminiscent of Sansa’s idealism, the young boy whose face was held to a burning brazier suffered this punishment for indulging in a fascination with knights. Sansa and readers alike are made to listen to Sandor’s visceral testimony:

“Most of them, they think it was some battle. A siege, a burning tower, an enemy with a torch. One fool asked if it was dragonsbreath.” His laugh was softer this time, but just as bitter.
“I’ll tell you what it was, girl,” he said, a voice from the night, a shadow leaning so close now that she could smell the sour stench of wine on his breath. “I was younger than you, six,
maybe seven. A woodcarver set up shop in the village under my father’s keep, and to buy
favor he sent us gifts. The old man made marvelous toys. I don’t remember what I got, but it was Gregor’s gift I wanted. A wooden knight, all painted up, every joint pegged separate and fixed with strings, so you could make him fight. Gregor is five years older than me, the toy was
nothing to him, he was already a squire, near six foot tall and muscled like an ox. So I took his knight, but there was no joy to it, I tell you. I was scared all the while, and true enough, he found me. There was a brazier in the room. Gregor never said a word, just picked me up under his arm and shoved the side of my face down in the burning coals and held me there while I screamed and screamed. You saw how strong he is. Even then, it took three grown men to drag him off me. The septons preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who’s been burned knows what hell is truly like.

“My father told everyone my bedding had caught fire, and our maester gave me ointments. Ointments! Gregor got his ointments too. Four years later, they anointed him with the seven oils and he recited his knightly vows and Rhaegar Targaryen tapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Arise, Ser Gregor.’”

What Sandor testifies to here is not simply the personal injustice done to him by his brother’s depravity and his father’s complicity, but also to the institutionalised violence that is masked under a show of chivalry and solemn vows, one that has considerable social and moral implications, as evidenced by Rhaegar’s knighting of the Mountain. Whether or not Sandor personally witnessed the latter event is not known, but it doesn’t lessen the impact it has on his psychic trauma, acting, I would suggest, as a double wound that hardens over time into the Hound persona.

As many theorists have noted, giving testimony is not only useful for speaking of the destructiveness of the traumatic event, but it also attends to the survival of the witness and to the possibility of healing. In taking the role of an active listener to Sandor’s testimony, Sansa is established as an important companion in this process. Earlier in the day, her ability to perform in this role is signalled by her mature perception of her own reaction to Ser Hugh’s death. Unlike Jeyne who becomes overwhelmed and has to be taken away, Sansa faces the spectacle with a degree of nerve and quiet empathy for the dead knight. Later on, she is forced into looking at another gruesome spectacle – the Hound’s face:

Look at me. Look at me!” Sandor Clegane put a huge hand under her chin and forced her face up. He squatted in front of her, and moved the torch close.

“There’s a pretty for you. Take a good long stare. You know you want to. I’ve watched you turning away all the way down the kingsroad. Piss on that. Take your look.”
His fingers held her jaw as hard as an iron trap. His eyes watched hers. Drunken eyes, sullen with anger. She had to look.

The right side of his face was gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and a grey eye beneath a heavy brow. His nose was large and hooked, his hair thin, dark. He wore it long and brushed it sideways, because no hair grew on the other side of that face.
The left side of his face was a ruin. His ear had been burned away; there was nothing left but a hole. His eye was still good, but all around it was a twisted mass of scar, slick black flesh hard as leather, pocked with craters and fissured by deep cracks that gleamed red and wet when he moved. Down by his jaw, you could see a hint of bone where the flesh had been seared away.

It’s hard to imagine anyone else being invited to inspect Sandor’s scars in this intimate manner, and when he follows it up by telling her just how he received those burns, Sansa becomes fully connected to the trauma he experienced. According to Dori Laub in the seminal work on testimony co-authored with Shoshana Felman:

[…] the listener to trauma comes to be a participant and a co-owner of the traumatic event.
Through his very listening, he comes to partially experience trauma in himself. The relation
of the victim to the event of the trauma, therefore, impacts on the relation of the listener to it,
and the latter comes to feel the bewilderment, injury, confusion, dread and conflicts that
the trauma victim feels.

Laub’s point is substantiated in Sansa’s deeply empathic response outlined in the next quote, and it is little wonder that her father will later observe her emotional investment when the jousting resumes.

The rasping voice trailed off. He squatted silently before her, a hulking black shape
shrouded in the night, hidden from her eyes. Sansa could hear his ragged breathing.
She was sad for him, she realized. Somehow, the fear had gone away.
The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she
was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand.
“He was no true knight,” she whispered to him.

The fact that Sansa not only respects Sandor’s story, but offers a way – “he was no true knight” – to understand what is fundamentally an incomprehensible event in its assault on one’s bodily and psychic integrity, provides him with the means to begin to recalibrate his moral compass, and reconstruct a narrative for himself that does not revolve in a damaging cycle of violence. This is something we will see playing out throughout the length of his time with Sansa in King’s Landing, as they are both meant to bear witness to each other’s respective trials and traumas, and grow closer together as a result. That the Hound will the very next day take up the challenge of being a true knight through the rescue of Loras, and secure the love of the commons for it, suggest that it is eventually possible for victims to escape the very alienating and solitary experience of trauma.

To conclude, it is vital to appreciate the magnitude of Sandor’s testimony, and how difficult it would have been for him to tell his story as a victim whose survival up to this point has been based on an identity that admits no weakness or vulnerability. Despite the dark rumours about Gregor and the Clegane family that Ned recalls when watching the jousting, there is a culture of silence in place, one that Sandor has been obliged to keep since he was a young boy. Coming in the wake of his involvement in Mycah’s death, Sandor’s testimony is an act of truth-telling that begins a long process towards his own personal redemption. If we consider the judicial relevance of testimony, then telling his story accomplishes a critical first stage in his will to change and speaks to the wider need for systematic societal transformation.

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Very nice analysis Brash!



In the discussion about trauma and how it relates to Sandor's view of knighthood, it's worth noting that trauma victims that can develop 'black and white' thinking patterns as a result. Here we see the first glimpse of Sandor's black and white outlook on knights; he puts them all in one basket. He seems to hate the institution, yet we immediately see that Gregor's brutality has shaped this perception.



I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows. My brother is a knight.



So Sandor really acknowledges no greyness in the 'knight continuum' at this stage, reflecting how severely the burns to his face and mind have molded him as a person. Sansa is soon trusted by Sandor, and so the stage is set for her to offer some form of therapy. Due to this position of confidence, she can challenge his damaged outlook on himself, and thus knighthood.



It's also interesting we learn that Barristan unhorsed Sandor (in-as-much as they're mentioned together). At this point, Sandor has been portrayed as a 'bad guy', and from the offset Barristan as a shining example of the 'true' white knight. A hero to Bran, and the "greatest living knight", when we first see Barristan, he is courteous & makes Sansa laugh, ridding her of anxiety.



However, what's interesting is that the pair might have similarities. Selmy keeps vigil over Ser Hugh, behaving honorably and like a 'true knight' at the tourney. What Sandor did in defending Loras (and not aiming for Gregor's face), as brash points out, is also in line with ideals Barristan aspires to.



This is an excellent part of the books for getting a grounding on 'knightly issues'.


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Nice work Brashcandy! Excellent essay.



Just a few observations about the Hound at the Tourney. On the first day, it's noted that he enters the lists but his armor is not described like other participants are until the second day, and then it's quite subdued without ornamentation. He is a younger brother who unhorses two younger brothers; Renly, brother to King Robert, and Ser Jaime, brother to Queen Cersei.



Both Renly and Jaime have references to gold in their dress; Renly has golden antlers on his helm and Jaime is described as glittering from head to heel. Both have their headgear damaged by the Hound, Renly breaks an antler tine and Jaime's helmet is so dented he needed help to remove it. As if to show how little he cares for these golden fancy knights, the Hound throws Renly's golden tine to the commons.



Something came out at me in the Eddard chapter. Ned is musing about Gregor and notes; "Unlike his brother, Ser Gregor did not live at court. He was a solitary man whom seldom left his own lands, but for wars and tourneys." I found this interesting, for as damaged as Sandor is, he lives among others and has somewhat of an open social life.



We learn later from a conversation between Tyrion and Varys that Sandor drinks, dices and visits brothels just as his peers do. Unlike the brother who hurt him, he does not live in isolation and by being around other people, he meets Sansa whose empathy starts him on the bumpy road to change.



During the walk back from the tourney, Sandor tells Sansa the story of his burns. It's noted during the telling how dark it is and how, except when he holds the torch near his face he can't be seen. It's been mentioned by fans before that Sandor is many times seen coming from the darkness into the light and that motif may have it's start here.


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