maidenpools
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hyped for a re-read!!
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Post by maidenpools on Feb 11, 2015 10:21:13 GMT
There is a passage in this scene that I've always had difficulty interpreting, and I'd love to hear your input.
"Jeyne Poole wept so hysterically that Septa Mordane finally took her off to regain her composure, but Sansa sat with her hands folded in her lap, watching with a strange fascination. She had never seen a man die before. She ought to be crying too, she thought, but the tears would not come. Perhaps she had used up all her tears for Lady and Bran. It would be different if it had been Jory or Ser Rodrik or Father, she told herself. The young knight in the blue cloak was nothing to her, some stranger from the Vale of Arryn whose name she had forgotten as soon as she heard it. And now the world would forget his name too, Sansa realized; there would be no songs sung for him. That was sad."
Why do you all think Sansa cannot cry here? Is she still in shock, in a way, because of the traumatic things that have happened to her recently, as she mentions? Or is there some other reason or combination of reasons?
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Post by sillierthings on Feb 13, 2015 6:04:02 GMT
I'm not sure why Sansa is unable to cry here, and it could very well be a sign of the trauma she's already endured. However, I think it shows us Sansa's mettle especially when compared to Jeyne. Sorry to bring up Sandor again, but when the Hound is waving his sword around, growling about being the butcher, Sansa isn't too upset by him either. She is a Stark and she knows "Winter is Coming," death is coming. She's able to look at death without flinching. She's much tougher than anyone gives her credit for.
On the other hand, this is a sharp difference to the girl who weeps for Joffrey, the boy who cut off her father's head. Perhaps Sansa does not cry because she's not grown enough to have the empathy that I love her for. She's lost her wolf, and she's suppressing instinct, perhaps? I agree it is rather difficult to interpret.
I think there is also the importance of the song. Sansa sees the man die, thinks how no one knows who he is nor will they ever because there will be no songs sung for him. The song is a way of conferring immortality if you will, a way of defeating death. Death will come for all, but the song stands up to Death either by allowing a name or a legend live on long after the subject is dead OR if we take song as sexual innuendo (which it often is in Sansa's later chapters), the song is sex, life, the birthing of children which allows us to conquer death. At least through our progeny we live on.
What do you think? Am I reaching?
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maidenpools
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hyped for a re-read!!
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Post by maidenpools on Feb 13, 2015 15:34:55 GMT
It's totally cool to bring up Sandor - I can hardly think of one of these characters without mentioning the other because they're such important parts of each other's development.  After thinking about it for a while, I think that Sansa's seeming lack of empathy here is due to a combination of factors including her recent trauma, but mostly due to the frame of reference through which she views the world. At this point in the story, she hasn't been exposed to the evils of the world - the songs and stories she cherishes are still 100% true to her. It's hard for her to empathize with people who fall outside of her tight-knit family circle who have not distinguished themselves in some way through the system of chivalry. It's not until later, after she has suffered a great deal herself, that she realizes that life is truly not a song for anyone, herself included. Now she knows how they feel and can't help but emphasize. She recognizes the potential of ordinary people, like Dontos, to do extraordinary things despite their different social and economic circumstances. If she saw a man die like that again, I believe that not only would she suspect the other knight of foul play (remember how Sandor has to convince her that Gregor engaged in foul play?), but she would also empathize with the dead knight. She might not cry, however, having been exposed to so much death. But she would recognize the tragedy of the circumstances, because even if life is not a song, "There are gods, and true knights too. All the stories can't be lies." Chivalry may not always prevail, but everyone is capable of it and when they are deprived of it, it is an injustice and a tragedy - this is what she comes to believe. Does that make sense? |
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Post by sillierthings on Feb 13, 2015 18:38:25 GMT
I think you've made a lot of sense and said it very well. I agree with what you say. Sansa was still very protected at this point and as a result, has not learned to truly empathize. It's curious that this is the same day that she and Sandor have their chat on the darkened tourney field, and it's during that conversation that she starts to feel frightened FOR the Hound instead of for herself. Perhaps this moment sets the starting point for this kind of emotional growth in her character?
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maidenpools
Junior Member
hyped for a re-read!!
Posts: 50
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Post by maidenpools on Feb 13, 2015 20:00:27 GMT
I think you're absolutely right! I think the first moment of that deep, resonant empathy that Sansa is so well-known for displaying was when the following occurred:
“She was sad for him, she realized. Somehow the fear had gone away. The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself.”
She doesn't doubt Sandor's story - after all, the burns are right there on his face, and his emotions are all too raw and real to deny. This is the first time that she realizes that sometimes life is not a song, but that doesn't mean that true knights don't exist, as she tells Sandor when she puts a hand on his arm. :')
This just goes to show that her beliefs have grounded her morality in faith, hope, optimism, and empathy. The minute her beliefs are challenged, she seeks to integrate her beliefs into the world - to seek out the good amidst the evil and put it to use - instead of allowing the world to destroy her faith in the possibility of good and noble truths. Therein lies her strength.
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