Beyond the Wall: Exploring George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, From A Game of Thrones to A Dance with Drago (9 page)

It’s worth noting that the appendix to
A Game of Thrones
actually suggests six thousand years have passed since the Andals’ arrival, whilst Hoster Blackwood’s remarks to Jaime in
A Dance with Dragons
suggest it could be as little as two thousand. An “error margin” of some four thousand years leaves significant room for doubts, mistakes, and miscalculations.

The enormous difficulty in calculating history in Westeros is down to the lack of regular seasons. When one season might last for a few months and the next for years, records of harvests, plantings, summer festivals, and so on become highly unreliable. Even the maesters of the Citadel, with their exacting measurements and timelines, find themselves arguing over dates and details. Neither has it been revealed in the books how long the maesters or the Citadel have been around. They are just one more example of the fog of uncertainty shrouding the entire backstory of Westeros—one more example of how history itself is an unreliable narrator in the series.

The unpredictable seasons also answer another common criticism about technological stasis in Westeros. The kingdoms in A Song of Ice and Fire have seen historical epochs pass much as in real history, just at a slower rate. We are told that the First Men brought bronze to Westeros some twelve thousand years before the start of the books. By tradition—which, as we have already seen, may not be entirely reliable—the Andals followed with iron and horse-riding some six thousand years later. In reality, the Bronze Age in Europe lasted from roughly 3200 to 600
B.C
., a period of twenty-six centuries. The following Iron Age overlapped it, extending from 1200
A.D
. to 400
B.C
., a period of sixteen centuries. If we take into account the slowing of technological progress due to the long winters, effectively mini ice ages occurring up to several times a century, the corresponding technological ages in Westeros only last two to three times longer than their real-life counterparts.

That said, we are also given conflicting information about technological and sociological matters: the appendix to
A Game of Thrones
tells us that the Andals brought the concept of chivalry to Westeros, but in
A Feast for Crows
, Samwell Tarly suggests that the institution of knighthood is a more recent one and highlights the fact that some stories speak of knights living a thousand years before they could have existed. This is, of course, a nod to the legend of King Arthur, where knights in the medieval tradition are depicted as living and fighting a clear half-millennia before such fighting men came into being.

A wild card in this matter is the existence of magic. The degree to which magic was practiced in Westeros before the Doom of Valyria is unclear, but certainly at one time magic was used for formidable tasks, such as the raising of the Wall and the building of Storm’s End. The notion that magic retards technological development, if not preventing it altogether, is a common conceit in epic fantasy. Magic in Westeros, even when used, was not as prevalent as in other fantasy stories, and its use may have helped slow, but not prevent, technological advancement. This conflict between magic and science is given a clearer definition in
A Feast for Crows
, when we are told that the maesters of the Citadel believe that magic should be made obsolete and stamped out wherever it is encountered for the benefit of science.

The backstory to A Song of Ice and Fire thus lacks definition up until the arrival of Aegon the Conqueror in Westeros, a mere three centuries before the start of the series. At this point history suddenly snaps into focus, and we get hard dates for the reigns of the Targaryen kings and major events that happen during their reign. Before that, history is less hard fact and more shifting legend.

This unreliability of history extends onto a more personal scale as well. Characters are defined by their experiences and what has happened to them in the past, as well as by their families and their family histories. These histories themselves often suffer from uncertainty as much as the larger-scale timeline. Jon Snow, a major protagonist of the series—if not
the
major protagonist—is a character uncertain of his own identity; he doesn’t know anything at all about his real mother, not even her name. Cruelly, he is not privy to information that the reader and even other characters possess. Catelyn Stark never told him about the rumors that his mother might be Ashara Dayne of Starfall, and Arya has not been able to tell him that his mother might be the Dayne servant, Wylla, as revealed to her by Edric Dayne in
A Storm of Swords
. This latter point is crucial, as Wylla was identified by Eddard Stark as Jon’s mother to his best friend, Robert Baratheon.

This mystery is at the heart of the series, gaining more power as readers learn that Eddard Stark might not even be Jon’s father in the first place. In this instance we are given conflicting information from multiple sources about the matter. Jon may be the son of Eddard and Ashara, or Eddard and Wylla, or Eddard and an unknown fisherman’s daughter from the Vale of Arryn. Or he may not be Eddard’s son at all but a child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, claimed by Eddard to protect him from Robert Baratheon’s fury. Of course, if he were the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, he would be illegitimate . . . unless his parents had secretly married. Since Targaryens could take multiple wives and all of their offspring would have a claim as heirs, this could theoretically give Jon a claim to the throne, although one that would be very hard to prove.

Going back further, even the story of Rhaegar and Lyanna’s relationship is clouded by mystery. Robert Baratheon believes that Rhaegar abducted and raped Lyanna. Eddard is less sure. Later, in
A Storm of Swords
, Howland Reed’s children seem to tell Bran that the relationship between the two began more romantically, with Lyanna weeping at Rhaegar’s musical skills. We also know from
A Dance with Dragons
that Elia Martell, Rhaegar’s wife, could not bear any more children, whilst
A Clash of Kings
tells us that Rhaegar believed his children would play an important role in preventing the return of the Others. We can infer that Rhaeger was already looking to find another wife to bear him a third child to complete the prophecy. Martin gives us most of the pieces, but it is up to the reader to put it all together, at least until the moment the truth is revealed in later volumes—if it ever is.

Wheels turn within wheels, and the information we are offered within the books is fragmentary, requiring the reader to stand back and combine the scattered facts and perspectives into a larger picture. Popular history, as spread by King Robert, tells us Lyanna was abducted and raped. Other versions of the story tell us she and Rhaegar may have been lovers, or that Rhaegar may have used her to fulfill a line in a prophecy. Even seemingly clear-cut information is not entirely trustworthy: Brandon Stark, Eddard’s elder brother murdered by the Mad King, is described as a fiery but brave warrior, devoted to his betrothed, Catelyn Tully. Yet we learn in
A Dance with Dragons
that he had little to no interest in Catelyn, while another source, Ser Barristan Selmy, hints that he was a violent man. Brandon may have even sexually assaulted Ashara Dayne, getting her with child, which would explain a great deal about Ashara’s pregnancy and her behavior toward the end of her life. Even what appear to be straightforward elements of backstory turn out to be more complex, more shrouded in doubt, than they first appear.

To this end, the message of A Song of Ice and Fire may be that nothing is certain, not the world’s history and not the history of any individual within it. Everything is in the eye of the beholder, and the acts of one character may be heinous crimes to some but heroism to others. Tyrion Lannister tries to save King’s Landing from assault by destroying Stannis Baratheon’s fleet on the Blackwater. He partially succeeds—and is condemned by the people of King’s Landing as a criminal and monster. The reader has a greater perspective from which to judge the characters’ actions in the novels, but we are dependent on what the characters know about each other and about more ancient history. And if even contemporary events cannot be fully understood, what hope is there for the events thousands of years removed?

In
A Dance with Dragons
, we are offered a glimmer of hope, through the agency of the Last Greenseer: “[Y]ou will [. . .] see what the trees have seen,” he tells Bran Stark, “be it yesterday or last year or a thousand ages past.” This potentially opens up a window on the past through which Bran—and the reader—can gain a privileged vantage on events that had only been available through unreliable tales. We already have seen that the First Men used to engage in blood-sacrifices to the old gods, a truth that is not revealed in the other histories and stories. We have also seen through the heart tree that Lyanna Stark was a skilled swordswoman, capable of besting her younger brother—the future First Ranger of the Night’s Watch and a very capable soldier—in mock combat. This fuels speculation that Lyanna herself was the mysterious Knight of the Laughing Tree who avenged Howland Reed’s humiliation in
A Storm of Swords
, and gives another reason for why she and Rhaegar may have met and developed a connection. The addition of even a small scene, which may at first appear only to offer flavoring, can deepen our understanding of the backstory and fuel speculation.

The Song of Ice and Fire novels and the
Game of Thrones
TV series have benefited from the internet. Fans gather at blogs and online forums to debate the questions raised by each new release, whether it’s Jon Snow’s parentage, the reasons for the unpredictable seasons, or the motivations of the Others. Discussions of this sort—though sometimes very . . . lively—increase the readers’ engagement with the story, allowing them the opportunity for active rather than passive participation. It helps create and maintain a loyal and enthusiastic fanbase and gives those fans something to talk about during the waits between novels.

As the story of A Song of Ice and Fire draws to a close, many of the questions raised within its pages will be answered. Martin himself has told us we will learn the reason the seasons are out of joint and the truth behind Jon Snow’s parentage. After almost two decades of discussion, it’s inevitable some fans will have guessed those answers already, but for those who have, it’s a tribute to the skill with which the author assembled those mysteries and seeded clues to their resolutions in the story.

It’s unlikely that all the mysteries will be solved, however. Larger questions about the nature of magic and religion in the world will surely remain, and rightfully so. Westeros itself is a place built upon unreliable time and fractured history, so for the series to end with mysteries still shrouding the landscape would only be fitting.

       
ADAM WHITEHEAD
is a British blogger resident in Britain’s oldest town and ancient Roman capital, Colchester. He is the founder of the Wertzone blog and the
Game of Thrones
wiki. He has also served as a moderator on the
Westeros.org
website since 2005. He was nominated for the inaugural
SFX
SF Blogger of the Year Award in 2011, for his work on the Wertzone.

GARY WESTFAHL