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The Will to Change: Rereading Sandor


Milady of York

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SANDOR V:

Rise to Kingsguard

On the battlements, Sandor does obey his king’s order to turn round Lord Eddard’s rotting head towards his daughter so she can look at it, but when she refuses to give Joffrey the pleasure of a reaction, he also follows suit and doesn’t humour the king in his taunting:

“Your brother is a traitor too, you know.” He turned Septa Mordane’s head back around. “I remember your brother from Winterfell. My dog called him the lord of the wooden sword. Didn’t you, dog?”

“Did I?” the Hound replied. “I don’t recall.”

Not the first time Joffrey is deprived of sadistic satisfaction by claims of “not remembering,” and he’s further provoked when Sansa outwits him by saying it’s just as likely that her brother will have Joffrey’s head as the other way round like he is bragging, earning her second beating by Trant. In desperation, she contemplates killing Joffrey and herself in one single push and fall, but Sandor gets in her way in a discreet manner that dissimulates to potential onlookers what her true intentions had been:

“Here, girl.” Sandor Clegane knelt before her, between her and Joffrey. With a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he dabbed at the blood welling from her broken lip.

It’s a blessing amongst a myriad of misfortunes for the king’s betrothed that he’s a Kingsguard, but for the king’s grandfather it is a source of vexation, because he’s clever enough to realise his family’s blunder:

His father had not raised his voice, yet Tyrion could see the anger in the gold of his eyes. “And dismissing Selmy, where was the sense in that? Yes, the man was old, but the name of Barristan the Bold still has meaning in the realm. He lent honor to any man he served. Can anyone say the same of the Hound? You feed your dog bones under the table, you do not seat him beside you on the high bench.” He pointed a finger at Tyrion’s face. “If Cersei cannot curb the boy, you must. And if these councillors are playing us false . . . ”

Thus does Sandor Clegane inaugurate his period of service in the Kingsguard, with the distaste of high lords towards his appointment and going behind his king’s back to protect a hostage as one of his first deeds wearing that snowy cloak.

Nice! I had never thought about this parallel between Sansa and Sandor here both claiming to Joff at some point that they don't remember something he did as a way to try and remain uninvolved.

Stunning analysis, Milady of York. To begin where you ended, Sandor finding his way out of soiled cloaks - and Sansa's deciding role in this - seems foreshadowed by the action she takes when she kneels before the king on Barristan's discarded cloak to plead for mercy for her father. As you noted in your summary, Sansa is the only one who feels compassion for the "naked knight" and here she inadvertently finds a way to make use of him, a purpose for his service that was deemed no longer suitable by Queen Cersei and her son. In begging for mercy on Barristan's white cloak, Sansa enables that garment to be symbolically invested with the honour and ideals that Barristan would have spent his life trying to fulfill, but sadly falling short when expected to stand by and watch the madness of the men he served go unchecked. The joke may have brought him some humiliation, yet in ending his tenure with the Lannisters as a naked knight, Barristan has the opportunity to reestablish his own personal sense of honour and duty. As a non-knight replacing the naked knight, Sandor begins his service by challenging the long-held and meaningless codes of the institution; further, even though he is expected to obey and serve his king in everything he does, he begins by displaying kindness and compassion to Sansa when she is ordered to attend Joffrey in court. Perhaps it is significant that instead of the white cloak of his Kingsguard brothers, Sandor is wearing a plain brown doublet and green mantle in that scene.

Brashcandy has covered much of my thoughts on the symbolism of Sansa using Barristan's white cloak to kneel on when she pleads for mercy for her father and how Sandor is the one who will take Barristan's place on the Kingsguard. This is the second example of how someone else is being used as a proxy for Sandor's true nature as a knight despite the fact that he refuses to take the vows. The first is when Loras gives Sansa the red rose at the tourney, an act which Sansa thinks of as the epitome of gallantry, and in the end Sandor wins the tourney by acting to save Loras's life.

Yeah, as it concerns the identity theme, it's interesting how the "black dog" is a symbol of pride and sacrifice for Sandor whilst others use it to insinuate he's a man without honour. There's a parallel in this to what Aemon tells Jon about the NW and ravens:

“Doves and pigeons can also be trained to carry messages,” the maester went on, “though the raven is a stronger flyer, larger, bolder, far more clever, better able to defend itself against hawks … yet ravens are black, and they eat the dead, so some godly men abhor them. Baelor the Blessed tried to replace all the ravens with doves, did you know?” The maester turned his white eyes on Jon, smiling. “The Night’s Watch prefers ravens.”

Jon’s fingers were in the bucket, blood up to the wrist. “Dywen says the wildlings call us crows,” he said uncertainly.

“The crow is the raven’s poor cousin. They are both beggars in black, hated and misunderstood.”

I'm also musing on all this further foreshadowing Sandor's role in the greater issues that will be facing Westeros with the return of the Others and the "winter is coming" theme, which Bran's dream has already prefigured. Jon VIII is following the wight attack on Mormont, and he's even suffering with a burned hand for his efforts in saving the Commander's life. Suffice to say, the entire chapter contains imagery and themes that are applicable to Sandor.

Welcome to the thread, Gambolpuddy! Please feel free to discuss anything from previous chapters we've covered; we're going to be wrapping up AGOT next week, so it's all still fair game for analysis :)

Yes, I noticed this too. The part about how much pain Jon is in from his burned hand was especially striking to me as evocative of Sandor:

At the time he felt nothing, the agony had come after. His cracked red skin oozed fluid, and fearsome blood blisters rose between his fingers, big as cockroaches. . . . Maester Aemon had given him milk of the poppy, yet even so the pain had been hideous. At first it had felt as if his hand were still aflame, burning day and night. Only plunging it into basins of snow and shaved ice gave any relief at all. Jon thanked the gods that no one but Ghost saw him writhing on his bed, whimpering from the pain.

When I read this it reminded me of the comment about how only a man who has been burned knows what hell is truly like. Both Jon and Sandor have suffered through scarring terrible burns but there is something else that both have in common and that is how they are perceived by the public. While we have been given a few examples now of how the Hound's public image is a negative one, because of being unfairly lumped together with his brother's evil doings, we also see throughout the books how bastards also are unfairly perceived negatively simply because of their bastard status since they are considered to have been born out of lust.

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Thank you, Doglover and Elba. It practically wrote itself; this chapter grouping yields a lot of information on Sandor.




Great analysis of what's really important to Sandor, and I love the comparison to Jaime. This really shines light on a future conversation Sandor will have with Sansa. ;)



". . . all a man needs. Or a woman" makes more sense in view of this chapter, and the more you examine this in the context of his renouncing a wife and family during his Kingsguard appointment, the less random his lines at the Serpentine sound. Just one more exemplification of that it can be startling how differently his words sound and mean once you reread them reframed by other scenes, and how much more comprehensible they become.




As for the theme of fatherhood in Sandor's arc, as others have mentioned I think there is a lot more to it than first meets the eye too. Sandor was more of a father figure to Joff than Robert was (or Jaime he biological father) and it makes me wonder that Joff seems to go more and more off the rails as Sandor moves further away from him. I never noticed it before because it's also so closely tied to when Joff becomes King so he is no longer restrained the way he was when Robert was alive, but I wonder if there is a more subtle reason due to Sandor slowly shifting his allegiance from Joff.



Very interesting to ponder. All of this also coincides with the onset of puberty for Joffrey, with all that it entails. I'd say that his behaviour became poorer and poorer due to the confluence of primarily four factors: as king, nobody was above him, so he had no limitations to his royal will; his mother had tended to indulge him overmuch when younger, but still could control him either directly herself for he was still small, the way she did with Tommen, or indirectly through Sandor. But now, with him grown up and very tall for his age at that, she could no longer do it that way, as she herself tells at one point that Joffrey was difficult and willful, nor does she try to seek a different approach more appropriate for his age. Joffrey, however, still fears his mother’s intervention as Tyrion only had to threaten him to inform Cersei of the public beating for him to stop, and he continues with his misbehaviour precisely because Cersei enables it, turning a blind eye to all he does so long as he lets her rule in peace, and his uncle the Imp does much the same; in fact, he even encourages his bad behaviour (e.g. the antler men) for the same reason: to have him out of his way in ruling matters. The Lannisters don’t know how to manipulate Joff out of mischief the way Sandor knows, only how to keep him entertained by means of promoting his cruelties, they play into his worst traits and feed them, and Joff eventually comes to see it as natural and acceptable for a king.



So, if to unrestrained and indulged and cruel by inclination we add that hormones have knocked on his door, we have all the ingredients for Aegon the Unworthy reborn. He begins to have sexual needs by the time he’s crowned king, but since he knows only a twisted way to do things, he expresses them like that, threatening his future queen with rape and later bragging on how he has the same power of a past king to have any woman be brought to his bed, willing or unwilling, married or single. Tyrion will be the only one to realise this and tries to provide with a means for him to let some steam off, but prostitutes might not be the adequate solution, because as they’re nothing but commoners with no agency or protection, they can be abused and mistreated by a powerful client. If he’d been threatening a highborn noblewoman like Sansa with sexual humiliation so early in his reign, much before his uncle even caught a smell of things, then we can imagine what he’d do to brothel women that are expendable.



Sandor was practically the only person in King’s Landing that tried to maintain Joffrey out of trouble, who tried to restrain him subtly and in non-humiliating ways when he was doing wrong. He even uses humour as a tool for that, like when the royal children are having that “Mother said” spat over Tommen’s jousting and Sandor sides with Myrcella with a laugh, causing Joff to admit defeat. I think this is also a big factor in why Joffrey looks up to and is in awe of Sandor: he treats him in a way that Joff feels takes him into account, he doesn’t make him feel bad or unwanted or humiliated, like his kingly sire or the other adults. And as cherry of the cake, Sandor is the sort of warrior Joff wishes he were, like Robert was too, as we note when Sansa asks him if he thinks Loras will be champion, Joff is the first one to bet in favour of his Hound and says he’ll be champion, and if not him, then his uncle Jaime will. That said, it does seem like his worst side surfaced precisely when his Hound is kept away by duty or other factors. No wonder therefore that when he’s gone, Cersei thinks he’d be the ideal instructor for Tommen instead of the “simpering” rose, only that she’s wrong about what is it in Sandor that made him effective with her eldest child. With Sandor gone, there’s absolutely no one in court to even try to restrain Joffrey anymore, and he even is emboldened enough to talk back to the fearsome Tywin to his face.





Home and belonging is a very pertinent theme in Sandor's arc, and we're seeing the beginnings of it here when he's made KG yet is clearly more concerned with the family life it would mean he has to give up, even if that was only a wished for reality. This theme also intersects with that of identity, in Sandor as the loyal "dog" that truly wants a better master/mistress to serve. He may have found a refuge with the Lannisters in escaping from the savagery of Gregor, but it does not erase the fundamental displacement that's a feature of his arc, and helps to explain why simply packing up and leaving for another life isn't an available option for him, especially not after his experiences with Sansa.





True, and additionally becoming a sellsword would be a regression for his development as a character, and possibly a degradation as well given that he's a noble that for all his life has been a faithful liegeman to his land of birth's overlord and had the prestigious post of a sworn shield to a queen and then a king. Selling his services to anyone that paid the bills would be a fall from grace in this context, and would pose more moral quandaries for him who's defined by loyalty and obedience, as "sellsword's faith" is used as an insult the same way as "whore's virtue." He's leaving unworthy masters, and going for even unworthier employers wouldn't behoove him if his purpose is improvement. Serving a liege lord that's worthier, and if in addition happens to be kin to the girl who helped with the push he needed to bail out, that's something that does benefit him.

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True, and additionally becoming a sellsword would be a regression for his development as a character, and possibly a degradation as well given that he's a noble that for all his life has been a faithful liegeman to his land of birth's overlord and had the prestigious post of a sworn shield to a queen and then a king. Selling his services to anyone that paid the bills would be a fall from grace in this context, and would pose more moral quandaries for him who's defined by loyalty and obedience, as "sellsword's faith" is used as an insult the same way as "whore's virtue." He's leaving unworthy masters, and going for even unworthier employers wouldn't behoove him if his purpose is improvement. Serving a liege lord that's worthier, and if in addition happens to be kin to the girl who helped with the push he needed to bail out, that's something that does benefit him.

I am glad you brought this point up Milady. I've been in arguments with others who have asserted that Sandor could have easily left the Lannisters and sought employment elsewhere. While it's arguable that it would have been better for Sandor to have left the Lannisters sooner, the fact of the matter is that things were not so simple. Leaving aside the issue of his sworn oath to the Lannisters, it wouldn't have been easy for Sandor to have found a better master or mistress. Many of the lords have atrocious ethics like the Lannisters do. And I think we all know how awful sell sword companies can be.
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Lots to read from the past few days, and insightful stuff at that. I especially liked Ragnorak's comparison of Sandor and Barristan as a function of black and white, the raven and the dove, and everything in this last post:




...


I'd like to take a closer look at Barristan since he is the Kingsguard knight Sandor is replacing.


[lots of great points]


...





The manner in which Barristan and Sandor are regarded by others illustrates the hypocrisy of Westeros wrt expectations about knighthood and the KG. Barristan served 4 kings in Westeros, 2 of which fought on opposite sides of a war. Instead of having his loyalty cast forever into doubt for accepting leadership of Robert’s KG, he, as Tywin says, brings prestige to the man he serves, thanks to his past deeds. Sandor serves but 1 family (and nobody questions his loyalty, ever, until the moment he leaves), so as far as society is concerned, he embodies the KG ideal of absolute loyalty to the king. However, he is reviled for this, partly because the family he serves is the Lannisters and the king in question is Joffrey Baratheon, whose cruelty is increasingly well-known and whose claim has been called into question by Stannis – and also based on the fact that he doesn’t wrap himself in the title of “knight,” so he is easily condemned for his Lannister-ordered actions. Ser Barristan the Bold, who moved from Targaryen to Baratheon, can serve Bad King Joffrey but Loyal Dog Sandor cannot be honored with a similar position. Why? At least partly because of society’s expectations about knighthood. Knights are the good guys, worthy of wearing white cloaks and protecting the king.



Sandor is not the only KG to serve an unpopular king who did cruel things. Barristan served Aerys, known as the Mad King, and stood by while Aerys did as he pleased. Popular opinion didn’t think badly of him for it, though; on the contrary, he’s considered a living legend. At least Ser Barristan has the good grace to feel soiled after everything that he has been a part of. He’s the only one who seems to come down hard on himself though, similar to how Sandor later reacts to his own shortcomings. After all, Dany accepts Barristan quite readily, considering he served the “Usurper.” Once he has proven himself, she allows him to try to realize his potential as he serves someone he considers worthy: I hope there is a parallel here in terms of Sandor’s future.



Later, Ser Barristan is dismissed from the KG and from serving King Joffrey, and everyone, up to Danaerys Targayen herself, takes offence. Would they have had a man as fantastic as Ser Barristan serve Joffrey, even fight in a war for him? Apparently so. Society supports KG ideals over what it actually entails. And while Barristan shows some autonomy when he hesitates between Robert’s letter and Joffrey’s demands (choosing again between loyalty to the dead king and allegiance to the new one), he does, in the end, fight on Joffrey’s side, thus deciding to throw in his lot with another king, all for the sake of living up to the ideals of the KG.



Spoiler for a comparison to a future event (I'll delete it if necessary).



Ser Barristan reflects that perhaps his “greatest moment” - saving Aerys - was really a big mistake. He’s been praised by all for this action, in spite of the kind of man Aerys was. This is contrasted to Jaime, reviled by all (including Ser Barristan at the time) for his decision to kill Aerys. And Sandor’s best decision as a KG, which won’t happen until the end of the next book, is also met with universal scorn. He is not lauded for choosing to desert the unworthy King Joffrey but derided as a coward for not standing by him and for not living up to the KG ideals. His unwavering loyalty – but without the knightly vows – wasn’t good enough before and now he’s held in contempt for not being loyal enough.


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I am glad you brought this point up Milady. I've been in arguments with others who have asserted that Sandor could have easily left the Lannisters and sought employment elsewhere. While it's arguable that it would have been better for Sandor to have left the Lannisters sooner, the fact of the matter is that things were not so simple. Leaving aside the issue of his sworn oath to the Lannisters, it wouldn't have been easy for Sandor to have found a better master or mistress. Many of the lords have atrocious ethics like the Lannisters do. And I think we all know how awful sell sword companies can be.

Indeed, and those are unsustainable arguments to make, too, since the whole point of judging Sandor for serving the Lannisters is that they're terrible people that don't deserve his loyalty, then expecting him to go join some sellsword company is demanding that he jump from the frying pan into the fire. At least with the Lannisters he has some room to manoeuvre, for he can refuse to do certain things, he can go behind his lieges' backs to do some good, he has some measure of initiative and agency (no one sent him to save or protect Sansa, for example, it was all him), and he's in good terms with and has the trust of his superiors, he's allowed liberties that the average Lannister vassal doesn't have, etc. Would he have that degree of autonomy in a sellsword company? Unlikely. A sellsword company means irreversible moral corruption for someone like him, it's fighting for whomever has gold, for causes he doesn't believe in, spilling his blood for masters he wouldn't know, being a full-time killer instead of a protector, everything that goes against what he's internalised as his worldview that's derived from his grandfather's story. He is not Bronn, and wouldn't kill the baby for the gold.

The most decent outcome he could hope for if he were to get out of Westeros for Essos is something akin to the honourable service (for a knight and a nobleman) that Ser Barry has found for himself by joining Daenerys. But then, Barristan fought loyally for the Targaryens with Prince Rhaegar, served Robert when the war was lost and he was pardoned and was kicked out by Joffrey on risible grounds. Dany doesn't really have much of weight against him, therefore, and once he approves her test by fire and blood, she takes him in. And in contrast, we have Sandor, who's not only little brother to the man who raped Elia and killed Aegon, which in itself is bad enough already, but if you add to the bulk that Sandor fought with the treasonous Lannisters against the dragons during the Rebellion, then the deal is sealed as far as Daenerys is concerned. At least Tyrion could argue, in the eventuality that he met her, that he was a little child when that happened and he can't be held responsible for the crimes of Tywin, whom he killed anyway, but Sandor can't argue the same: he was a squire back then and according to GRRM himself, he was in Tywin's host that sacked King's Landing. Brother to Gregor, squire to a high-ranking Lannister (maybe Tywin himself), sworn shield to the Usurper's queen, Kingsguard to the Usurper's heir . . . That record isn't going to recommend him highly.

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I really like that take. It fits with Tyrion's first advice to Jon about arming yourself with who you are. It also fits with a lot of the loss of innocence imagery Martin uses and innocence is too often lost with stains and bloody hands in this series. Dany initially likes the heat of her bath because it makes her feel clean, yet by Meereen she is rather bothered by the heat and her baths only get her as clean as she was ever going to be. Some stains can't be cleansed. They must be accepted and incorporated which is one of the overarching aspects of Dany's story in DwD. I suppose a similar view could be taken of Sansa's Snow Winterfell scene:

White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here.

Yet she stepped out all the same.

One can't walk on a pristine snowfall and not make a mess. We can't maintain the purity of our innocent world. Sansa steps out, makes her mess, shapes that world to her will by building a home amidst the mess and draws strength from it. As of the time we meet him, Sandor seems to have made the "stain" on his face a part of himself but still needs to come to grips with the stains on his cloak.

Well said, Rag, and I like your example of how the snow castle scene fits in with these concerns. In Martin's world, experience always comes at a cost, some more harsher than others, but no one escapes without a stain of some sort. I'm reminded of what Cersei tells Sansa after she burned the bedding to hide her menarche:

“I don’t blame you. Between Tyrion and Lord Stannis, everything I eat tastes of ash. And now you’re setting fires as well. What did you hope to accomplish?”
Sansa lowered her head. “The blood frightened me.”
“The blood is the seal of your womanhood. Lady Catelyn might have prepared you. You’ve had your first flowering, no more.”
Sansa had never felt less flowery. “My lady mother told me, but I . . . I thought it would be different.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. Less . . . less messy, and more magical.”
Queen Cersei laughed. “Wait until you birth a child, Sansa. A woman’s life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you’ll learn that soon enough . . . and the parts that look like magic often turn out to be messiest of all.” She took a sip of milk. “So now you are a woman. Do you have the least idea of what that means?”

@ Milady of York - I thought you'd like to know that I have finished Dying of the Light (you can put away the whip now) and thoroughly enjoyed it as was anticipated from your terrific essay ;) Besides the striking parallels that you highlighted between Bretan and Sandor, I would say that overall the former is such a memorable character, even though he's not nearly as utilised as the Hound is in ASOIAF, and this is a quality that pervades both men's characterisation. Like Sandor, Bretan may have had harsh experiences and can be quite violent, but he also has a personal sense of honour, one that Dirk ends up respecting and responding to when he finally goes to meet him in the Death square. Even in this dying world, where it's easy to be manipulative and selfish like Arkin Ruark (aka Baelish), the bonds of fellowship and brotherhood - what the Kavalars hold sacred in their teyn relationship, still matters and can help to dignify one in death. It brought to mind Ragnorak's thoughts on the brotherhood motif in Sandor's arc, and how there's a gradual movement from the destructive/exploitative kind to the redemptive/productive possibilities represented by the Elder Brother. Of course, as Martin does in Song, all the institutions in Dying are presented as problematic and wholly critiqued, so there are no simple answers or solutions. Also, this book gives a wonderful example of what Martin considers to be a bittersweet ending, where no one comes out of the conflict unchanged or unscathed, yet there's just enough left to offer some semblance of promise for the future. In that light, though the ambiguous ending of the book frustrated me to no end, it was probably most fitting for communicating the author's message.

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Lots to read from the past few days, and insightful stuff at that. I especially liked Ragnorak's comparison of Sandor and Barristan as a function of black and white, the raven and the dove, and everything in this last post:

The manner in which Barristan and Sandor are regarded by others illustrates the hypocrisy of Westeros wrt expectations about knighthood and the KG. Barristan served 4 kings in Westeros, 2 of which fought on opposite sides of a war. Instead of having his loyalty cast forever into doubt for accepting leadership of Robert’s KG, he, as Tywin says, brings prestige to the man he serves, thanks to his past deeds. Sandor serves but 1 family (and nobody questions his loyalty, ever, until the moment he leaves), so as far as society is concerned, he embodies the KG ideal of absolute loyalty to the king. However, he is reviled for this, partly because the family he serves is the Lannisters and the king in question is Joffrey Baratheon, whose cruelty is increasingly well-known and whose claim has been called into question by Stannis – and also based on the fact that he doesn’t wrap himself in the title of “knight,” so he is easily condemned for his Lannister-ordered actions. Ser Barristan the Bold, who moved from Targaryen to Baratheon, can serve Bad King Joffrey but Loyal Dog Sandor cannot be honored with a similar position. Why? At least partly because of society’s expectations about knighthood. Knights are the good guys, worthy of wearing white cloaks and protecting the king.

Sandor is not the only KG to serve an unpopular king who did cruel things. Barristan served Aerys, known as the Mad King, and stood by while Aerys did as he pleased. Popular opinion didn’t think badly of him for it, though; on the contrary, he’s considered a living legend. At least Ser Barristan has the good grace to feel soiled after everything that he has been a part of. He’s the only one who seems to come down hard on himself though, similar to how Sandor later reacts to his own shortcomings. After all, Dany accepts Barristan quite readily, considering he served the “Usurper.” Once he has proven himself, she allows him to try to realize his potential as he serves someone he considers worthy: I hope there is a parallel here in terms of Sandor’s future.

Later, Ser Barristan is dismissed from the KG and from serving King Joffrey, and everyone, up to Danaerys Targayen herself, takes offence. Would they have had a man as fantastic as Ser Barristan serve Joffrey, even fight in a war for him? Apparently so. Society supports KG ideals over what it actually entails. And while Barristan shows some autonomy when he hesitates between Robert’s letter and Joffrey’s demands (choosing again between loyalty to the dead king and allegiance to the new one), he does, in the end, fight on Joffrey’s side, thus deciding to throw in his lot with another king, all for the sake of living up to the ideals of the KG.

I do believe the Kingsgurad clock, both worn by Selmy and Sandor, foreshadows that they will eventually cross paths, but as foes initially. Barristan Selmy and Sandor stand in opposition to one another: Semly, dressed in “an intricate suit of white enameled scales, brilliant as a field of new-fallen snow,” who epitomizes knightly honor and virtue in contrast to Sandor, the non-knight and Lannister “black dog” who is so contemptuous of knighthood and the hypocrisy it represents.

Sansa keeps the cloak that both discarded in disgust, the white cloak stained with “fire and blood,” Targaryen house words. The one who formerly possessed it seeks out the Targaryen queen, metaphorically embracing what literally breaks Sandor. After Sandor is broken by that “fire and blood” he moves north, closer to ice and winter, while Barristan Selmy is associated with fire.

Another notable difference is agency, as Barristan is quite passive in contrast to Sandor, who makes active, yet subtle, decisions to do the right and honorable thing. Barristan "the Bold" doesn’t challenge Robert’s orders to have Daenerys assassinated, the queen he will soon swear to protect after he’s dismissed, even though he doesn’t support the decision, yet Sandor, the loyal dog, immediately does what he can to protect Sansa, breaking his own vows in the process. Also, Barristan is stripped of his cloak and dismissed from service, whereas Sandor decides to discard the cloak and abandon the Lannisters and his king to seek out better masters. And while Sandor isn’t a blip on the radar of the Big Game Hunters, as dubbed by Lyanna Stark, it’s Varys who has been pulling Barristan’s strings.

Sandor, whose greatest fear is fire, isn’t going to hold a woman in possession of three unruly dragons in high regard, or the people who serve her. I do anticipate a conflict between the two.

ETA: When Ned challenges Robert's orders to assassinate Daenerys, he appeals to Robert's sense of mercy, mercy Robert showed Barristan Selmy.

"Mercy is never a mistake, Lord Renly," Ned replied. "On the Trident, Ser Barristan here cut down a dozen good men, Robert's friends and mine. When they brought him to us, grievously wounded and near death, Roose Bolton urged us to cut his throat, but your brother said 'I will not kill a man for loyalty, nor for fighting well,' and sent his own maester to tend Ser Barristan's wounds." He gave the king a long cool look. "Would that man were here today."

Since mercy is such a significant theme in Sandor's arc, while there may be a conflict between Sandor and Barristan Selmy in the future, this could possibly foreshadow Sandor showing Barristan mercy.

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@ Milady of York - I thought you'd like to know that I have finished Dying of the Light (you can put away the whip now) and thoroughly enjoyed it as was anticipated from your terrific essay ;) Besides the striking parallels that you highlighted between Bretan and Sandor, I would say that overall the former is such a memorable character, even though he's not nearly as utilised as the Hound is in ASOIAF, and this is a quality that pervades both men's characterisation. Like Sandor, Bretan may have had harsh experiences and can be quite violent, but he also has a personal sense of honour, one that Dirk ends up respecting and responding to when he finally goes to meet him in the Death square. Even in this dying world, where it's easy to be manipulative and selfish like Arkin Ruark (aka Baelish), the bonds of fellowship and brotherhood - what the Kavalars hold sacred in their teyn relationship, still matters and can help to dignify one in death. It brought to mind Ragnorak's thoughts on the brotherhood motif in Sandor's arc, and how there's a gradual movement from the destructive/exploitative kind to the redemptive/productive possibilities represented by the Elder Brother. Of course, as Martin does in Song, all the institutions in Dying are presented as problematic and wholly critiqued, so there are no simple answers or solutions. Also, this book gives a wonderful example of what Martin considers to be a bittersweet ending, where no one comes out of the conflict unchanged or unscathed, yet there's just enough left to offer some semblance of promise for the future. In that light, though the ambiguous ending of the book frustrated me to no end, it was probably most fitting for communicating the author's message.

Excellent! Thanks for letting me know, I am glad to hear you loved the novel, Brash.

Bretan Braith Lantry was definitely underutilised as a character, and terribly so. In comparison Gwen, who seemed to be there only to spark conflict and cause angst to the male characters, has a considerably higher number of appearances. But a good thing is that when Bretan does appear, he is an absolute scene stealer, and such an intriguing character that should have more interactions on page. I wonder if Martin eventually realised he'd not used this character often enough, to full potential, and that factored in his decision to recycle him as Sandor? The Hound is better fleshed-out and better utilised after all. But he might have simply done it because he liked the prototype character a lot; many authors do that.

Of all the coincidences with Sandor, the mentality resulting from his scars as the dream sequence were the highlights to me, and consolidated some ideas I'd posited years ago on these very topics, before reading the novel. And you're right to bring to attention that he does possess a code, as another trait that stuck was how he's true to his word for reasons of personal honour; if he vows he'll do something, he keeps to it even if that means additional burdens, and people recognise it in him, even someone as dishonourable as Arkin Ruark, who trusts him when he gives his word that he won't hurt a woman. Hurting a woman seems to be his no-crossing line in the sand, same as Jaan, who goes rogue and becomes an outbonder in defence of his betheyn. Bretan is no angel for sure, and has troublemaking tendencies, yet isn’t on the same wavelength as Pyr for example, who gave me Ramsay Bolton vibes with all that talk of releasing naked humans on the wilderness and hunting them with dogs.

Indeed, if the Scouring of the Shire in LOTR didn't exemplify it quite clearly what Martin envisions as a bittersweet ending, then the ending of Dying of the Light definitely does: the price of victory is personal even if you and your side win, you’ll never be the same again, those experiences have been transformative on a very significant level and the changes stay, for good or ill; moreover it also gives a glimpse of how our fandom is likely to be debating the ending of ASOIAF for ages regardless of how it goes. I can sympathise with your feelings on the ending, many have felt that way, myself included, and from what other readers say, it's a source of hot debate, as some argue Dirk died in the duel and others argue he might've survived. I've said as a joke that the true end is that Dirk blundered his sword thrust and didn't hit Bretan, then Bretan slashed Dirk almost gently, just enough to draw blood and satisfy the requirements of the code duello, and then Dirk became his new teyn, and together they went on to have more adventures round the galaxy in that wolf-car . . .

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Indeed, if the Scouring of the Shire in LOTR didn't exemplify it quite clearly what Martin envisions as a bittersweet ending, then the ending of Dying of the Light definitely does: the price of victory is personal even if you and your side win, you’ll never be the same again, those experiences have been transformative on a very significant level and the changes stay, for good or ill; moreover it also gives a glimpse of how our fandom is likely to be debating the ending of ASOIAF for ages regardless of how it goes. I can sympathise with your feelings on the ending, many have felt that way, myself included, and from what other readers say, it's a source of hot debate, as some argue Dirk died in the duel and others argue he might've survived. I've said as a joke that the true end is that Dirk blundered his sword thrust and didn't hit Bretan, then Bretan slashed Dirk almost gently, just enough to draw blood and satisfy the requirements of the code duello, and then Dirk became his new teyn, and together they went on to have more adventures round the galaxy in that wolf-car . . .

I can't say that ending doesn't appeal to me :) If all a man needs in Westeros is a woman, then all he needs in High Kavalaan Worlorn is a teyn... I agree with your distinction between the members of the Braith holdfast; Pyr and his ilk appear to be much more savage and cruel; whilst Bretan still allows his opponent some measure of dignity once offence has been taken, even if he is branded as a mockman. And the fact that he never genuinely believed in mockmen, but honoured the traditions upheld by his teyn, Chell, does give us further insight into Bretan's character. Despite all the violence, political upheaval, and sense of hopelessness that Worlorn engenders, this is very much a novel about love in all its manifestations, and one that explores what Martin has said drives his narrative purpose: the human heart in conflict with itself. Dirk struggles to accept that the love he had with Gwen - his "Jenny" - cannot be recaptured, while she is fighting against the restrictive codes that her husband's society necessitates they live under. Even characters like Garse become increasingly sympathetic when the strength of his attachment to Jaan and innate decency is gradually realised. Great point about how Martin complicates our conceptions of victory and defeat; has Dirk been defeated because he goes to Bretan in the end to fight a duel he has no chance of winning? Does the death of Jaan's teyn diminish or strengthen the bond he has with Gwen? Can you find purpose on a planet that is on the brink of deathly silence?

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Stunning analysis, Milady of York. To begin where you ended, Sandor finding his way out of soiled cloaks - and Sansa's deciding role in this - seems foreshadowed by the action she takes when she kneels before the king on Barristan's discarded cloak to plead for mercy for her father. As you noted in your summary, Sansa is the only one who feels compassion for the "naked knight" and here she inadvertently finds a way to make use of him, a purpose for his service that was deemed no longer suitable by Queen Cersei and her son. In begging for mercy on Barristan's white cloak, Sansa enables that garment to be symbolically invested with the honour and ideals that Barristan would have spent his life trying to fulfill, but sadly falling short when expected to stand by and watch the madness of the men he served go unchecked. The joke may have brought him some humiliation, yet in ending his tenure with the Lannisters as a naked knight, Barristan has the opportunity to reestablish his own personal sense of honour and duty. As a non-knight replacing the naked knight, Sandor begins his service by challenging the long-held and meaningless codes of the institution; further, even though he is expected to obey and serve his king in everything he does, he begins by displaying kindness and compassion to Sansa when she is ordered to attend Joffrey in court. Perhaps it is significant that instead of the white cloak of his Kingsguard brothers, Sandor is wearing a plain brown doublet and green mantle in that scene.

To delve a little further into the theme of mercy, this could also foreshadow that Sandor will eventually show Barristan mercy, as the cloak then transfers to Sandor after Sansa kneels on it to plead for mercy for her father (who urged Robert to show Daenerys mercy, using Barristan as an example of why mercy is never a mistake), whom Sandor replaces as Sansa's and Arya's protector.

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Another notable difference is agency, as Barristan is quite passive in contrast to Sandor, who makes active, yet subtle, decisions to do the right and honorable thing. Barristan "the Bold" doesn’t challenge Robert’s orders to have Daenerys assassinated, the queen he will soon swear to protect after he’s dismissed, even though he doesn’t support the decision, yet Sandor, the loyal dog, immediately does what he can to protect Sansa, breaking his own vows in the process. Also, Barristan is stripped of his cloak and dismissed from service, whereas Sandor decides to discard the cloak and abandon the Lannisters and his king to seek out better masters. And while Sandor isn’t a blip on the radar of the Big Game Hunters, as dubbed by Lyanna Stark, it’s Varys who has been pulling Barristan’s strings.

Good point, DogLover. Of the four Kingsguard who've experienced the King-Queen-Knight conflicting trifecta of duty vs. decency we've just discussed, Ser Barristan is the one that has been the most passive of them all and the one that's done the least against his king: Prince Aemon managed to do all the could for his queen and his king did his worst only after he'd died; Jaime accepted his brothers-in-arms' advice regarding his queen passively, but he ended up snapping at last, killing his king at a critical moment, and is at present going against his new queen too, and we've examined in-depth what Sandor was able to do. Selmy, on the other hand, did his duty just "too well" as he reflects once dismissed, already in the twilight of his life, after long service at the heels of four kings. Even his seeking redemption in serving a queen isn't voluntary as much as circumstances arm-twisting him into such a path. And there's the detail that Barristan had one chance the other knights and non-knight never had: he did meet a good king and decent human being in Aegon V, with whose son Duncan the Small he tried to joust at the age of ten, and whose other son Jaehaerys II he served, another good king. With monarchs like those two, to be dutiful and obedient and keep to one's vows as best as one could isn't as complicated as when you have . . . Joffrey, for one. Also, Aerys wasn't always unstable and there was a period when the realm was efficiently if ruthlessly ruled by his Hand, a period that would've promoted growing complacent and settling into an easy and well-defined and well-spelt out "the king says, I carry it out" daily routine that plays so well into Barristan's generally unquestioning and not quite self-reflective personality. He had two good kings, and two bad kings, and with both he proceeded the same way essentially saving the differences, showing little initiative.

Through this lens, his failures are therefore of inaction. But Sandor and Jaime? They were more autonomous and took more things in hand, and whatever failings they beat themselves up for are both matters of doing and matters of not doing; especially for the Hound.

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...

Another notable difference is agency, as Barristan is quite passive in contrast to Sandor, who makes active, yet subtle, decisions to do the right and honorable thing. Barristan "the Bold" doesn’t challenge Robert’s orders to have Daenerys assassinated, the queen he will soon swear to protect after he’s dismissed, even though he doesn’t support the decision, yet Sandor, the loyal dog, immediately does what he can to protect Sansa, breaking his own vows in the process. Also, Barristan is stripped of his cloak and dismissed from service, whereas Sandor decides to discard the cloak and abandon the Lannisters and his king to seek out better masters. And while Sandor isn’t a blip on the radar of the Big Game Hunters, as dubbed by Lyanna Stark, it’s Varys who has been pulling Barristan’s strings.

...

That is an important use of quotation marks.

From what I have seen, many readers take Ser Barristan at face value, as good ole Barry the Bold (the same as is done with Sandor), where Barristan is offered up as the definitive proof that "true knights" exist. He is touted as an "honorable man." I think that's quite true, but not at all positive: he is honorable in that he submits completely to every morality-breaking demand of the King's Guard. He lets himself be wrapped in the scratchy white wool of duty. Despite numerous misgivings over the years, he refuses to claim any agency, though he is afforded more chances outright than Sandor ever is (as LC and also with his seat on the Small Council). His honor as a knight and a member of the KG overpowers his desire for autonomy and compels him to stand by while men like Aerys and Robert (who didn't smile when seeing the children's corpses, so it's cool) hurt innocent people. He looks to have been fully prepared to serve Joffrey, the king who began his reign with the promising line "Kill him! Kill all of them, I command it!"

If he is honorable, why should readers feel consternation at his dismissal from a corrupt king's corrupt institution? My heart went out to the man, too, for losing his whole world in 30 seconds, but if we are to feel shame, it should be because Barristan does not take the initiative to bail on his own terms, as Sandor later will. In Essos, Barristan attempts to redeem himself and start participating in his own life but, as you said, many actions he considers self-motivated are suspect to the influence of others. Sandor makes his own decisions and does not attract attention.

The people of Westeros don't know that Sandor has been taking initiative to protect Sansa since Day One, but readers do. We actually witness how Barristan is passive where Sandor is covertly active. There is honor in protecting the innocent from abuse, and it takes a bold person to do so when the chief abuser is the king. Yet Sandor continues to be regarded as a villain while Barristan is considered a Good Guy. I think they certainly do stand in opposition to each other, and that it is very clear who comes closer to the "true knight" ideal. But my opinion appears to be in the minority amongst readers.

ETA: When Ned challenges Robert's orders to assassinate Daenerys, he appeals to Robert's sense of mercy, mercy Robert showed Barristan Selmy.

Since mercy is such a significant theme in Sandor's arc, while there may be a conflict between Sandor and Barristan Selmy in the future, this could possibly foreshadow Sandor showing Barristan mercy.

I had not considered that the parallels and contrasts between the two could be hinting at a future encounter. In keeping with your suggestion, if we look at at the reasons why Robert showed Barristan mercy, it was "for loyalty and for fighting well." If anyone has experience with those two qualities (and the inner turmoil they can cause a person) it is Sandor Clegane.

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I think one big reason as to why Barristan and Sandor are viewed in opposition could be that unfortunately for Sandor he has his brother's evil deeds overshadowing his name, whereas Barristan got his start and made his name doing some heroic deeds. Barristan defeated Maelys the Monstrous as a young man and even though saving Aerys may have later turned out to haunt him, his actions in freeing him were quite brave and heroic. I just read that part in the World of Ice and Fire book. It's too bad that the Clegane name has been tainted by Gregor and that Sandor is just lumped in with him simply because of the fact that they are brothers.


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I think one big reason as to why Barristan and Sandor are viewed in opposition could be that unfortunately for Sandor he has his brother's evil deeds overshadowing his name, whereas Barristan got his start and made his name doing some heroic deeds. Barristan defeated Maelys the Monstrous as a young man and even though saving Aerys may have later turned out to haunt him, his actions in freeing him were quite brave and heroic.

A good caveat to take note of, Elba. There’s more to it than general, unspecified social and idealistic expectations that inform the public’s assessment of both men; it’s also how they started and the deeds by their respective Houses and/or themselves that reached the public, creating the usually impactful and perdurable impression that’ll be the measure to judge their characters by.

From the standpoint of the people in the realm, Selmy has had a long string of impressive deeds from childhood, even before his participation in the Ninepenny Kings war that made him a celebrity. As mentioned before, at ten he'd tried to participate in a jousting match with the then Prince of Dragonstone, Duncan Targaryen, who treated him graciously and didn't humiliate him for his childish act of boldness, bestowing on him instead the nickname he'd be known for: the Bold. That deed, even if small and of no great significance by itself, would've brought him into the limelight, he thus becomes "that little boy who jousted with His Grace at . . ." in common word-of-mouth street talk. For a child, and a squire from a minor House, that is important in terms of social standing, as a favour or a kind gesture from royalty can mean a lot in a society where rank and blood determine your life and destiny. From such auspicious start, he grows up to be the one to end the Blackfyres that so many headaches gave to the kingdom, enters the Kingsguard of a decent monarch, at a time when it was a “dream team” with great names and great fighters, he performs a daring rescue, he fights valiantly for his king, he rides in tournaments. With such a limpid record, how can the masses be expected to think the worst of him, really? He has given them no reason to judge by themselves, there’s nobody to air the court’s dirty laundry outside, so the name of Selmy doesn’t conjure up anything negative because neither Barristan nor anyone from his House has given them cause.

But Sandor became "that boy of the burnt face who is brother to the Mountain, you know, the one that raped and murdered Princess Elia at . . ." when he was only twelve. So at that young age his reputation had already been tarnished by association to Gregor, and squiring for the Lannisters didn't help it any. It's definitely possible to work for a family like them and still have a relatively good reputation earned for oneself regardless, but in this case he had no good beginning like Barristan, not a clean sheet, start-anew opportunity because of his brother. Gregor earned notoriety of the negative sort with a horrible crime, decades later it's still of public domain and gossiped about what he did during the Sack of King's Landing, precisely at the same time Sandor left home to start his own career as a sworn sword, and thenceforward he'd be always in the shadow of his brother by sharing a name. Of course, he has his own deeds that also have contributed to the public perception of him, his own personality as well, but since we're discussing the guilt by association topic, it can't be underestimated how socially damaging it is to have someone like Gregor as a relative, as he and his men do as they please anywhere both in peacetime and wartime, and things like the random murder of a soldier for snoring, the odd disappearance of servants, death of wives, indiscriminate rape, mistreatment of workers, torture of civilians, theft, etc., will be common knowledge to the smallfolk and that’s what they’ll think of when the name of Clegane. There’s definitely cause.

On a side note, have you read the new and more expanded Westerlands chapter from TWOIAF released today by GRRM? Do read it, there's plenty of interesting new bits. For our reread specifically, I'm interested in how deficient it turned out Lord Tytos (the one who ennobled Sandor's grandfather) really was as a lord, a weakling who was defied by everybody:

Even those houses that had hitherto remained leal to Casterly Rock went their own way now, for Lord Tytos had proved himself unwilling or unable to enforce justice or punish malefactors, even those who slew men in his service. A score of private wars broke out across the west, as rival lords strove for land, gold, and power. Outlaws, broken men, and robber knights became a plague upon the land.

And also, this bit that does make it even more likely that Lord Tywin gave the order to Lorch and Gregor regarding the Targaryen children and Elia of Dorne:

Lady Ellyn’s elder daughter, Rohanne, was mother to a three-year-old son, remembered in the songs as “the last Lord Tarbeck.” The boy disappeared the day of the battle, never to be seen again. Those of a romantic bent believe that he was smuggled from the burning castle in disguise, grew to manhood across the narrow sea, and became a bard famed for his sad ballads. More reliable reports suggest that he was thrown down a well by Ser Amory Lorch, though whether this was done at the behest of Ser Tywin or without his knowledge remains in dispute.

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Selmy has not always passive. Most notably, he intervened to save the infant Dontos Hollard as a young man, cashing in his just-won credit with the monarch he had spectacularly rescued.

Welcome, Colonel Green. :) And thanks for bringing this up, as I now further pontificate the importance of mercy in Sandor's arc in relation to Selmy. It's interesting that Selmy did save the infant Dontos, as Sansa and Sandor will both play a role in saving Dontos as an adult. In addition to the white Kingsguard cloak which symbolically connects Selmy, Sansa, and Sandor, this also potentially foreshadows a future meeting of the three and just how it will unfold.

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Selmy has not always passive. Most notably, he intervened to save the infant Dontos Hollard as a young man, cashing in his just-won credit with the monarch he had spectacularly rescued.

He certainly wasn't always passive and in all circumstances, that is true. But you're missing the point entirely: the argument isn't that Barristan never lifted a finger and was just a passive onlooker all the time. If you read the chapter analysis and the follow-up posts with attention, our focus is the scenario where a Kingsguard has to make moves to protect a queen against abuse by the king, and in that context, yes, Barristan was passive, for he didn't do anything for Rhaella, and according to his own reflections on his own POV, he does feel guilt over his inaction during Aerys' reign.

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The week comes to a close, which means we open the A Clash of Kings analyses on Monday. Therefore, this is a perfect opportunity to make any final comments/observations on Rereading Sandor: A Game of Thrones. We also want to thank all of the participants for their significant contributions, helping us unravel and glean insight to such a complex character. We hope you'll continue to offer your own observations/insights in upcoming books. Of course, we encourage lurkers to join the conversation. The more participants, the richer the experience.



We also want to extend a special thank you to OldGimletEye for agreeing to be our very first guest contributor. Your analysis was spectacular!



A full recap of The Will To Change: Rereading Sandor--A Game of Thrones will be posted soon.



ETA: I'm unable to post the recap in one post, so I'm going to have to try to do it in two parts (though, it doesn't seem longer than any of the other lengthy posts).


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THE WILL TO CHANGE: REREADING SANDOR CLEGANE



A GAME OF THRONES RECAP




Sandor Clegane, a secondary character, enters the A Song of Ice and Fire epic early in A Game of Thrones. While easy to initially perceive him as a lackey villain due to his station within the Lannister rank and file, of whom Ned Stark is so very wary, Sandor slowly and subtlety evolves as a very complex and fleshed out character. It’s in this book that the Hound also commits a truly heinous act, one that borders on the unforgivable: the slaying of Mycah, an act that sets up his redemptive arc. Yet, not too soon afterward is Sandor presented as a humanized and sympathetic character, wherein he reveals the secret behind his scars to Sansa. It’s this power of testimony that emboldens him to protect Loras Tyrell from his savage brother’s murderous rage.



The compassion Sansa shows Sandor when he provides testimony to his trauma establishes a connection between the two, and it’s then that we begin to see small cracks of disloyalty. Sandor crosses the line back to villainy again after participating in the attack against the Ned Stark household, and is then promoted to Kingsguard. However, very significantly, disobeys orders to “kill them all” by saving Jeyne Poole, another act of chivalry from someone who holds the institution of knighthood in contempt. In the very first book of this epic series, we are already seeing a man expressing and acting on the will to change as he slowly breaks from the dysfunctional and avaricious Lannisters and makes a shift to Sansa Stark.



To add to the complexity, themes of knighthood, mercy, redemption, trauma and testimony, and identity and belonging are central to Sandor’s arc, and an array of motifs, symbolism, and foreshadowing thread throughout his storyline.



Knighthood



Knighthood, specifically the subverted knight trope, is perhaps the most ever-present and obvious theme in Sandor Clegane’s storyline. Milady of York, who provided the analysis for Sandor I, explicates upon Sandor’s dismissive and confrontational remarks (or so perceived by readers) to Ser Rodrick Cassel in the Winterfell practice yard after Joffrey insists on using real steel in competition with Robb Stark, remarks that glean first insight to Sandor’s attitude toward the institution of knighthood: “His exchange with Cassel is therefore one of a disenchanted non-knight and a punctilious knight disagreeing on this quite formal training with dull-edged swords and a focus on honour and knightly codes of behaviour acting as lines of demarcation to deter any wounds accidental or not amongst these high-ranking children.”



The knighthood theme is much more prominent after Sandor challenges the idealistic Sansa with an eye-opening lesson on the hypocrisy of knighthood and lets Sansa know just how he feels about them and their vows.



“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?”



Lady Gwynhyfvar provided an expansion on an Arthurian comparative analysis, making the important observation that “Sandor’s identification of his monstrous brother with the institution has led him to dismiss it outright. His relationship with Sansa will allow him to explore those ideals and conflicts. Viewed as an echo of The Knight of the Cart, this scene can be seen as symbolising the idea that true knights aren’t necessarily without flaws and that rescue can come from places unlooked for.”



Tying in with knighthood is the sub-theme of Protector, as, apart from the Mycah incident, Sandor is always positioned to protect others, as eloquently stated by Ragnorak, who also addresses the killing of Mycah:




One aspect that I think would bother him, again subconsciously at first, is that this may be the only time we see Sandor in the metaphorical sword role instead of the shield. He was Cersei's sworn shield, her protector, and then Joffrey's. He saved Sansa during the riot. At the Blackwater he was a defender of the city not an attacker. He talks aggressively at his trial in the BwB cave but again he's on the defensive and protecting himself and not the aggressor. He takes Beric's offer to sally in words first before he is forced to switch to swords. Even with Gregor's men when he knows the inevitable outcome, he waits for them to be the aggressors. He warns the innkeeper of his impending fate to protect him.


Sandor IV further explores Sandor’s role as protector, especially in contrast to Gregor, the vicious aggressor whom is tasked by Tywin Lannsiter to terrorize the Riverlands. While Sandor’s position requires the fearsome and dangerous reputation he holds as the Hound, as well as the skill of a tried and tested warrior, his role is that of the loyal defender.



It’s also foreshadowed that Sandor will replace both Ned and Lady as Sansa’s protector when Sansa backs into Sandor and mistakes him for her father, as well as Robert’s “Get her a dog, she’ll be happier for it” remark to Ned when Cersei orders Lady’s death.



Honor, loyalty, and obedience, pertinent to knightly vows, are all themes interwoven through Sandor’s narrative. This is explored in depth in Sandor V:




And amongst all those men, Sandor is the one whose loyalty nobody suspects for an instant, least of all the prickly Lannisters themselves; it’s the quality that defines him, that makes him be appreciated by his superiors and despised by outsiders, the quality that dissuades every game-player from Varys to Littlefinger to Tyrion from even contemplating the madness of trying to bribe him somehow. In this regard, Sandor does fit the ideal of the royal bodyguard as conceived in its origins, and that he’s no knight just once more elevates him above the others, who are knights but don’t possess this sort of personal honour. It also makes the fact that he forsook his loyalty to the king and regent for the sake of a mistreated girl all the more notable.

~Milday of York



Mercy



The first glimpse of mercy, a significant theme to Sandor’s arc, is highlighted by Milady of York in Sandor I.




From that overheard conversation between Sandor and Joffrey in Winterfell, the first noteworthy line is the former’s remark that Bran is taking too long to die. This passage contains what’s probably the earliest allusion to the gift of mercy that will continue throughout the Hound’s arc… His comment that he’d wish Bran would die comes out filtered through his own view of suffering, that it’s better to end it cleanly than to leave someone to endure till the pain runs its course towards death, a view that diverges from Robert’s and Jaime’s very similar comments in that Sandor doesn’t suggest killing the boy but wishes that his agony should be short and the end swift.


Trauma and Testimony



Brashcandy’s Sandor III analysis delves deeply into Sandor’s source of trauma and the significance of revealing how he received his burns to Sansa:




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.


This act of testimony is also crucial to the healing process, and it’s Sandor’s retelling of his trauma to Sansa, which establishes a deep connection between the two that forces him to recalibrate his moral compass and sets him on a path to redemption, as brashcandy expounds:




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.


Yolkboy pointed out that victims of trauma often adopt black and white thinking patterns, which is so very apparent in Sandor’s attitude toward knights: “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.”


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THE WILL TO CHANGE: REREADING SANDOR CLEGANE



A GAME OF THRONES RECAP continued



The Relationship between Sandor and Joffrey



Sandor is initially perceived as Joffrey’s lackey sidekick, however, upon closer inspection, Sandor is the one who astutely manages Joffrey. It becomes increasingly apparent that Joffrey actually looks up to Sandor, someone Cersei actually considers the closest Joffrey ever had to a father. As we’ll see in the future, Joffrey is careful not to ask the Hound to do certain things. However, the older Joffrey gets, the more embolden he becomes, even more so when he’s proclaimed king and his behavior becomes increasingly erratic and more blatantly cruel and sadistic, as pointed out by Avlonnic:





When Sandor pretends he can’t see Tyrion, it seems like a shtick that is familiar to all three of them and one that has amused Joffrey previously. It illustrates to me that Joffrey is just crossing the cusp from boy prince to be protected to entitled crown prince to be obeyed. Sandor’s goofing around with short jokes is not going to suffice as entertainment much longer. This interaction telegraphs some of the difficult decisions ahead for Sandor in serving the petulant boy royal and his mother.


As Joffrey grows increasingly erratic and difficult to manage, Sansor subtlety separates himself from Joffrey and the Lannisters, but not insignificantly, by breaking his vows and disobeying orders. Sandor goes as far as committing high treason when hiding the fact that Sansa attempted to kill him, and offers Sansa advice on how to best protect herself. Sandor also violates the vow on offering the king councel when not asked, yelling “Enough!” during a beating in which Sansa is stripped of her clothes.




The Trident Incident



The most controversial and shocking act committed by the Hound is the slaying of Mycah, one that many consider irredeemable and that simply can’t be excused with “I was just following orders” explanation, often referred to as the Nuremberg defense, and used so often as a way to cast Sandor as guilty of committing an illegal act. OldGimletEye’s analysis brilliantly shines light on the complexity of evoking the “Superior Orders” defense.



Examining two conceptual problems that arise when using the Nuremberg defense as a way to criminalize the Hound, OldGimletEye states:



  • “The first conceptual problem is whether Sandor's actions were even illegal according to Westeros' law. Theoretically, at least, the tribunals at Nuremburg tried war criminals for breaking international and national laws that had been established before the outbreak of World War Two.2”
  • “The second conceptual problem with casual mentions of Nuremburg is that those mentions often assume that "the superior orders defense" died at Nuremburg. It did not.”


Further examining the possible illegality of Cersei’s orders and Sandor’s own culpability, OldGimletEye surmises that:





Sandor's killing of Mycah would only constitute a crime if Sandor had illegally followed Cersei's orders. For Sandor to have illegally followed orders, two minimum initial conditions have to be met. First, the order itself would have to be illegal. Secondly, to extent the order was illegal in some respect, it would have to be shown that Sandor didn't have a mistake of fact defense.


If there was no illegality to Cersei's order or if Sandor had some viable mistake of fact of defense, then Sandor would not be guilty of murdering Mycah, even under the absolute liability approach.




He then concludes “It seems plausible that Sandor wouldn't have seen anything particularly unusual about Cersei's order, except maybe the severity of the punishment that Cersei wanted imposed upon Mycah.” And while Sandor’s actions were legal, it doesn’t mean they were ethical or moral. While Sandor didn’t know that Mycah was innocent and had little choice in following orders, we do see this act is one he is not proud of and takes a psychological toll.



Home, Belonging, and Identity



Sandor’s choice of dress, which is plain, dark, and lacking in garish ornamentation, establishes him as someone who cares little for material things. This is reinforced when he throws the piece of gold Renly hands him after Sandor bests Renly in the joust. Sandor, like Jaime, has little ambition, and what drives them is to be the best warriors they can possibly be. Sandor’s rank, that of sworn shield to the king and promotion to the Kingsguard is based on merit. Everything Sandor has, he earned.



Not only does Littlefinger underestimate the Hound during the tournament, stating that the Hound dare not bite the hand the feeds him, he does so again when he tells Ned Stark that the Hound will not thank him for ordering his brother executed, as killing Gregor is what Sandor lives for. Brashcandy noted Sandor’s hatred of Gregor and his pronouncements that he wants to kill him is a coping mechanism, as Sandor did not attempt to kill Gregor when the opportunity presented itself. It seems that Sandor actually habors a deeper desire, one that is actually healthy and normal.



Milady of York, in Sandor V, places into context Sandor’s long moment to consider accepting Cersei’s and Joffrey’s offer to elevate him to Kingsguard and his words of acceptance:





“The king and council have determined that no man in the Seven Kingdoms is more fit to guard and protect His Grace than his sworn shield, Sandor Clegane.”

“How do you like that, dog?” King Joffrey asked.


The Hound’s scarred face was hard to read. He took a long moment to consider. “Why not? I have no lands nor wife to forsake, and who’d care if I did?” The burned side of his mouth twisted. “But I warn you, I’ll say no knight’s vows.”


“The Sworn Brothers of the Kingsguard have always been knights,” Ser Boros said firmly.


“Until now,” the Hound said in his deep rasp, and Ser Boros fell silent.




Sandor, completely lacking in ambition, has contemplated owning his own lands, but in relation to having a woman and family, which would give such holdings meaning. This is paralleled with Jaime’s own lack of ambition, giving up claim to Casterly Rock for Cersei.



Sandor’s sense of identity is also tied to his Hound persona and that of the loyal dog. And while he would take pride in being called a “black dog” since he loathes being called a “ser,” his connection to Sansa forces him to question his loyalty to the masters he serves.



Cloak Symbolism



The cloak symbolism is especially significant to Sandor’s narrative and makes a symbolic appearance when Sandor is elevated to Kingsguard and given the white Kingsguard cloak, the very one Barristan Selmy, the epitome of knightly virtue, is stripped of. However, before donning the cloak, Sansa uses it to kneel on when she pleads for mercy. As noted by brashcandy:





In begging for mercy on Barristan's white cloak, Sansa enables that garment to be symbolically invested with the honour and ideals that Barristan would have spent his life trying to fulfill, but sadly falling short when expected to stand by and watch the madness of the men he served go unchecked. The joke may have brought him some humiliation, yet in ending his tenure with the Lannisters as a naked knight, Barristan has the opportunity to reestablish his own personal sense of honour and duty. As a non-knight replacing the naked knight, Sandor begins his service by challenging the long-held and meaningless codes of the institution; further, even though he is expected to obey and serve his king in everything he does, he begins by displaying kindness and compassion to Sansa when she is ordered to attend Joffrey in court. Perhaps it is significant that instead of the white cloak of his Kingsguard brothers, Sandor is wearing a plain brown doublet and green mantle in that scene.


The “bloody cloak” imagery is also presented when Sandor rides back from the search party with Mycah wrapped in his cloak, foreshadowing the bloody Kingsguard cloak he’ll leave for Sansa after he rips it off in disgust.



Motifs



Beauty and the Beast



The Beauty and the Beast motif is intricately threaded throughout Sandor’s storyline, becoming far more prominent as his relationship with Sansa Stark develops. Yet, this motif is established very early on, even before Sandor and Sansa interact, which Lyanna Stark points out:





With regards to Sandor's introduction and the theme of the beast and the beastly in ASOIAF, it is perhaps worth noting that he is not just lumped in with the rest of the Lannisters, he is one in a line of three other "beasts". Jaime, Sandor, Joffrey and Tyrion are all characters who, at various stages in the story, take on various forms of the beast, the beastly and in some cases also the monstrous. All of them also get to star in some way in a "beauty and the beast" setting, whether opposite Sansa (Sandor, Joffrey, Tyrion) or in other settings. In the cases of Jaime and Joffrey, they have all this pretty surface, but still come across to us as hardly better than monsters, at least initially in Jamie's case.


Dogs and Wolves



The motif of dogs and wolves is also significant and pervasive in Sandor’s storyline. Brashcandy mentions that the closer dogs are to wolves, the wilder they become, and we see this with Sandor, the loyal dog. As his relationship develops with Sansa, Sandor demonstrates acts of disobedience: “One consequence of wolves and dogs interacting is that the latter becomes less tractable, less willing to simply serve and obey.”



Milady of York points out the significance of the “dogs take after their masters” lesson that Sansa received:





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.





Shadows and Light



The significance of colors, especially the white vs. black motif and darkness/shadows/lightness is especially apparent. Ornitorrinca commented:





Now onto the subject of shadows, which has been mentioned a few times already. He's clearly associated with shadows; his shadow comes into play twice in Tyrion I and throughout ACoK and even into ASoS we will see the man emerge from the shadows. This seems fitting, given, as Maroucia said, his gray armor and gloomy moods, and also when we consider what a morally gray character he is, and how he seems to be tentatively leaving some of the darkness of his life as the story progresses.


Bran’s prophetic dream also brings shadows, darkness, and lightness into play, which Ragnorak explores here.



And LongRider notes “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.”



And last, but not least, Milady of York uncovers the literary inspiration for Sandor Clegane here.


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