As someone who has made a living out of watching TV – the good, the bad and the ugly – I relish the look of shock when I tell people I’ve never watched Game of Thrones.
During my teens, I couldn’t move for talk about HBO’s biggest show ever – the epic medieval fantasy based on George RR Martin’s work that had it all: bloody battles, an iron throne, incest (?!), backstabbing and fearsome foes that leave a chill up your spine.
For better or worse, I missed the boat on it and, after the catastrophic finale that went down in the TV Hall of Infamy, I wasn’t feeling especially motivated to correct my egregious oversight, so I chalked it up as a loss and moved on.
That is, until now.
After thoroughly enjoying A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, I shocked my flatmates with the knowledge that, no, I haven’t watched Game of Thrones; thus, it was settled.
Now I need you to understand, before going into this, I truly only knew the Cliffnotes.
There’s a guy called Jon Snow (Kit Harington) who maybe dies or maybe doesn’t?
Daenerys is the Mother of Dragons, and Ned Stark croaks it at some point (perhaps season six or seven). Oh, and there was a blonde kid who was an absolute menace.
So you’ll imagine my surprise when I quickly discovered Jon was Ned Stark’s illegitimate kid, Daenerys doesn’t even have any dragons yet; the menacing blond kid was Tyrant Joffrey; and Ned proceeds to lose his head nine episodes in.
There I was, living every episode in fear and having no clue how fans could bear to watch it back in the day.
This all leads me to a couple of weeks ago, when I sat down with my flatmates to watch season three, episode nine – The Rains of Castamere, blissfully unaware of what I was about to witness.
I knew of the concept of The Red Wedding but had no clue what it involved (maybe Jon?) or when it happened.
So there I was, thrilled Robb Stark (Richard Madden) had got away with marrying Talisa and even more thrilled for Lord Tully (Tobias Menzies) that he had found a wife he liked.
I clocked something may be wrong when the guards threateningly shut the wedding banquet doors, with Lady Catelyn Stark (Michelle Fairley) watching on with worried eyes.
Here’s where the five stages of grief kicked in – beginning with… surely not?
Then Arya was showing up, and Roose (Michael McElhatton) showed Lady Catelyn the knife up his sleeve, and I could feel my rage rising at the dark turn the episode was taking.
The bargaining followed quickly at its heels. Maybe they’ll just threaten them, or Arya will swoop in at the last second and save them, or Robb will manage to escape in a last second show of strategic genius.
Surely they wouldn’t kill them now, in season three, when they’d just found their groove.
Then Talisa was being stabbed in the stomach, and the living room was filled with my shocked gasps, my flatmates watching the sorry scene with a hysterical dismay.
Watching Catelyn’s final plea for mercy to Walder Frey (David Bradley), a Hail Mary for her son to escape as she held a knife to his wife’s throat, was so horrifying I simply refused to accept it was happening.
Then Robb was being stabbed in the gut, and then Catelyn’s neck was being slit, and the whole room was filled with blood, and all I remember thinking was: ‘This must be the Red Wedding then, eh’.
As the credits rolled, I stared at the black screen in shock, tears threatening to spill over, rendered utterly speechless. Well that’s a lie, if memory serves, I oscillated between: ‘Oh my god’ and ‘I can’t believe it’ for a little while.
I understand now why Game of Thrones was praised for reinventing the wheel for what was possible for these large-scale shows. George RR Martin (and the show by extension) was unafraid to kill off its main characters even if there was still so much potential for them.
Not only that, but it pushed the narrative off into new and exciting directions. It’s the kind of unpredictable TV that keeps you coming back for more even if you really, really don’t want to.
There was a heaviness in my heart (we’d gracelessly crashed into stage four: depression). I refused to let us click onto the next episode, my mind still reeling. Maybe there was a way they had survived?
What disturbed me most of all was one of my flatmates telling me that ‘Game of Thrones really started from now’. Not what you want to hear in the throes of fictionally-induced grief.
I have no idea what happens next, but the Red Wedding, in a sick and twisted way, has made me realise that that’s part of the fun.
Game of Thrones is available to stream on HBO Max, NOW and Sky.
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