Game of Thrones Recap: Season 3, Episode 3

I have to admit it. When Game of Thrones episodes end, I feel a gray, sucking void in my heart. It  may be indigestion from the chili I’ve been eating while watching. But it’s also just the bleak feeling of knowing that I’ll have to wait another week for the next episode. So that’s why I’m blogging my viewing of this season’s Game of Thrones—to just live in that world for a little longer. And commiserate with all of you, of course.

[WARNING: Tharrr be spoilers. If you haven’t yet watched Season 3, Episode 3 of Game of Thrones, stop—go watch it—and then come back. I’ll wait.]

So this episode starts off with a funeral for Cat Stark’s father. Edmure (Cat’s brother) can’t quite seem to get the funeral boat lighted with a fiery arrow in true epic fashion. (To be honest, I would also fail at this and so would pretty much everyone I know. Except possibly my dad, who can do anything.) So the Blackfish shoves him aside and gets the job done. The Blackfish is clearly everyone’s favorite badass uncle. Later Edmure gets a reaming from Robb and said badass uncle for his tactical shortsightedness. Sigh…I love when Robb Stark gets all strategic.

Tyrion Lannister got deposed by his father as the King’s Hand in a previous episode; here, he’s assigned the job of Master of Coin. The general sense is that this is a major demotion, but coin is the lifeblood of the realm—and Tyrion now has his hand on its  jugular. I’m looking forward to seeing how he turns this to his advantage. Not sure this is what Cersei meant when she condescendingly told Tyrion he was entirely up to this task—but I think she was right.

Meanwhile, Jon Snow and his new Wildling buddies stumble upon a scale model of the Milky Way galaxy composed entirely of freeze-dried horse parts--bolstering my suspicion that the White Walkers are really just a collective of tragically misunderstood artists. I find myself wishing I had a friend so deliciously named as Hot Pie who baked me bread animals. Cat mourns her dead father and allegedly-dead sons, and Sam gets fat-shamed at Craster’s Keep. 

Not for the first time, I find myself wishing Sam would discover an amazing talent for map-reading or horse-whispering or something that makes him indispensable to the others, transforming him into a valued member of the group—because that’s a story that’s been told over and over about underdog characters. But Martin’s world isn’t that kind, and I’m not holding out much hope for that.

Melisandre takes her leave of Stannis for mysterious reasons—but not before getting in a dig that implies a lack of, um…manly prowess. (“Your fires burn low, my King.”) Ouch. On the other side of the world, I am happy to see that a minor character of color, the translator for the Unsullied’s masters, may take on a bigger role as a new member of Daenerys’ entourage. And this character gets in a great line: “There are no masters in the grave.” Chills.

Podrick loses his virginity in epic fashion to a bevy of stunningly beautiful contortionsit prostitutes—a reward for saving Tyrion’s life. The girls won’t even take payment—making us all curious about what Podrick is hiding behind his convincing veneer of slightly gape-mouthed innocence.

Theon Greyjoy gets released by a mysterious benefactor, chased down by his captors, and then rescued again—more than he deserves. If I remember correctly (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong), this is a departure from what happens in the book—so I’m wondering what kind of surprises the script has in store for readers.

And finally, Jamie Lannister saves Brienne of Tarth from rape with his quick wit and smooth talking skills—and loses his hand for his troubles. Jamie’s storyline makes me marvel at the sheer mastery of a writer who can make a character who pushes small children out of high windows sympathetic over the course of a story. Pure genius.

This episode ends with an absolutely ripping rendition of “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” by Brooklyn-based band The Hold Steady. I’d stick around—but I need to find out where I can download that post-haste.

Until next week!