#'and these are the poems I have referenced in my books: three about women dying and one about a woman founding a university'

[chaos-has-theories]

Alecto and Annabel Lee, Cristabel Oct and Christabel, Commander Wake and The Sleeper - but has anyone mentioned Tennyson's "The Princess" in the context of Coronabeth Tridentarius?

So alright, I've only read a synopsis, but the titular character is literally called Princess Ida. It's about said princess refusing to get married and instead founding a feminist women's college.

I don't have fully formed thoughts about this, but they're all tied to the cavalier gender essay. Something about... Corona always trying to portray a necromancer, the way her father wanted her to be - while also training herself to be a cavalier, and always serve her sister or another necro - but now she's with Blood of Eden, who hate necromancers and value her fighting abilities - but at the same time she's still very much in star-crossed love with Judith...

idk. There's just something there, and I don't think it's a coincidence. In any case, I'm kind of glad to see one parallel narrative for Jodybeth in which they don't have to kill each other and actually end up happy together :D

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

THE SAME STORY (2-2)

MELISANDRE’S VISIONS

It’s been said that both books and show are different stories, but there are some major common stories including the endgame. What I propose here is an analysis of what is common between all the prophetic segments, that they all tell the same story. In specific (there are more), I have analysed the following

A CLASH OF KINGS #47 - Danerys # 4: Danerys visits the House of the Undying and sees some visions that foreshadow her future.

SPINOFF #2: Melisandre’s visions.

S02E10 - Valar Morghulis: Danerys visits the House of the Undying and sees some visions that foreshadow her future.

SPINOFF #1: Arya Stark will kill Danerys with Bran’s help.

S04E02 - The Lion and the Rose and S06E06 - Blood of my Blood: Bran Stark’s prophetic visions.

In this fifth post, I’ll analyse Melisandre’s prophetic visions and how they foreshadow Danerys burning Winterfell during the Battle against the Army of the Dead, in an attempt to kill Jon and ending up killing a “fake” Sansa instead.

MELISANDRE, THE RED WOMAN

Melisandre is a priestess of R'hllor, a religion based on a dualistic view of the world. R'hllor is the god of light and life, contrasted with it's antithesis the Great Other, the god of ice and death. She has the ability to see visions in the flames, which predict the future, though they are difficult to interpret and because of that she freestyles a lot. She joins Stannis Baratheon’s cause, believing him to be Azor Ahai reborn, a hero destined to defeat the Great Other.

In previous iterations of these analyses, I propose that R’hllor (represented by its champion Danerys and the dragons) and the Great Other (represented by its champion the Night King and the White Walkers) are neither good nor evil, just the two extremes of destructive elemental magic that are threats against humanity. Therefore, this fits the eponymous “A Song of Ice and Fire”, the franchise’s name which was derived from a poem by Robert Frost which characterises fire and ice as equally destructive forces.

Therefore, Melisandre’s prophetic visions should mostly relate to the struggle between fire and ice. She can predict random things as well of course, but the major ones should revolve around those matters. In specific, Melisandre gives off a few successful predictions here and there but there is one that is framed differently, warranting a cumbersome mistaken identity choo-choo train and it’s own dedicated chapter, ADWD #31 Melisandre. It’s worth noting that the Azor Ahai prophecy actually doesn’t come from Melisandre, in that case she’s simply parroting R’hllor’s prophecy and teachings that greatly predate her becoming a priestess of that religion.

Anyway, that prophetic vision presented in ADWD #31 Melisandre should tell the same story as well, specifically to the Azor Ahai section. Cross-referencing with the previous iterations of this post series, this means Danerys burning WInterfell. The question is, does this story fit with Melisandre’s prophetic visions. It’s my conviction that it does.

PREVIOUSLY, ON THE SAME STORY:

In broad strokes, Danerys finds out about Jon being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and attempts to burn him with Drogon, outing herself as Azor Ahai as the destructive counterpart to the Night King / Others, ending up burning Winterfell as well as killing a fake!Sansa whether accidentally or on purpose. In this section, a summary of the foreshadowing of this event and where it can be found in other prophetic visions (explained in detail in the previous posts).

In the show, Danerys Targaryen visits the House of Undying in S02E10 - Valar Morghulis to rescue the dragons after they were stolen by Pyat Pree. She sees some visions which foreshadow her future. Amongst them, the following:

Danerys sees a stained-glass window with a blue flower, inside the Iron Throne room which is covered in snow. Moreover, she’s carrying a torch and the camera-work makes it pass over the blue flower. I propose that this represents Danerys finding out that Jon Snow is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, which will result in her burning him and / or Winterfell with dragonfire.

Also in the show, Bran Stark has two clusters of prophetic visions, the first in S04E02 - The Lion and the Rose and the second in S06E06 - Blood of my Blood. Amongst them, the following:

Bran sees an undead!horse, the Iron Throne covered in snow, the Night King behind an ice wall and a dragon over King’s Landing. I propose this represents that during the invasion of the Army of the Dead, Jon Snow being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne is revealed, moreover this will trigger the destructive forces of ice and fire (in other words, that Danerys + Drogon will prove herself to be as much of a threat as the Night King).

Bran sees parallel imagery of Danerys followed by Night King creating their respective elemental weapons, Aerys wishing to burn everything followed by Night King wishing to kill everything. These are preceded with a clip of the sun hanging low, Catelyn Tully being murdered at the Red Wedding, and followed by Joffrey executing Eddard Stark in revenge for saying he wasn’t the rightful heir. I propose this represents Danerys + Drogon will out themselves as threats against humanity as much as Night King + White Walkers during the Long Knight. Moreover, that Danerys will break-guest right (Red Wedding) in hopes of killing Jon since he denied her being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne (Joffrey executing Ned), consequently killing “Sansa Stark” (Cat) as well.

Bran sees the Long Night clip, followed by Danerys // Night King parallel, followed by Aerys wishing to burn King’s Landing, then the wildfire catching. This is followed by Aerys deciding to murder Aerys and then asking where is Lyanna, to find her dying  I propose this represents Danerys breaking guest-right by setting Winterfell on fire, that Arya will seek revenge against her and that Jon will find “Sansa” dead next to a tower.

In the books, Danerys visits the House of the Undying in ACOK #47 Danerys #4, after failing to gather support from the rest of Qarth. She sees some visions which are meant to give her knowledge on how to claim the Iron Throne (the visions show Jon Snow has a higher claim) and that foreshadow her future (what she’ll do once she realises this). Amongst them, the following:

Danerys sees a feast of corpses, which foreshadows the Red Wedding. I propose that this foreshadows another event where Danerys will break guest-right with the Starks (in hindsight, Danerys burning Winterfell with Drogon’s dragonfire).

Danerys sees Rhaegar saying that Aegon is the rightful king, that the dragon has three heads and that there must be one more. I propose this represents Jon Snow as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, he’s Rhaegar’s third child that he thought he needed.

Danerys meets a bunch of people with fake intentions, amongst them a kingly man who offers her food. I propose this represents Jon Snow inviting Danerys to Winterfell (in hindsight, to fight against the Army of the Dead).

Further along, Danerys meets the Undying and asks them to explain what she saw before meeting them. They mock her and explain whatever she saw through more riddles and visions (they should say the same as the ones above). Amongst them, the following:

“… three fires must you light … one for life and one for death and one to love … (…) Viserys screamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth.” This represents Danerys allowing Drogo to kill Viserys at Vaes Dothrak, breaking guest-right and usurping him. I propose this represents Danerys using Drogon to try to kill Jon at Winterfell, breaking guest-right in an attempt to usurp him.

 “ … three mounts must you ride … one to bed and one to dread and one to love … (…) Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. … mother of dragons, slayer of lies …” This represents Stannis as Azor Ahai, a person that people cheer for, and a beast flying off to burn shit. I propose this represents Danerys being Azor Ahai (and not Stannis) and this is a threat to humanity (not someone people should cheer for), and that she’ll reveal it by burning Winterfell (smoking tower = Burned Tower).

THE GIRL IN GREY

GRRM likes to use characters as shadows of someone else. In Jon Snow’s case, there are a few characters who apparently are love interests but whose attributes code what he’s either attracted to or repulsed by. These characters and Jon’s story with them exist independently, but I believe there are details about them which are also meant to foreshadow future storylines with other characters. In specific, Jon as a man appreciates specific attributes in these characters which foreshadow his endgame love interest to be Sansa Stark.

Melisandre’s prophetic visions in ADWD #31 Melisandre feature three out four of these women. Jon has a moment where he mistakes the two redheads Ygritte and Melisandre, which alludes to a “mistaken identity” plot and then bleeds into those same prophetic visions which allude to the brunette Alys Karstark (who was changed from having brown hair in the books, to having red hair in the show). In specific, this is known as the “girl in grey” prophecy. People often treat the whole thing separately (crumbling towers by the sea, the girl in the grey, “Brynden Rivers” and Bran Stark, Jon Snow as Azor Ahai?), but I believe that is wrong and treat it together.

ADWD #28 Jon #6

In general, Jon’s character arc is a mistaken identity plot since he’s not Ned’s bastard but Rhaegar’s trueborn son, but Jon’s arc in ADWD in specific is full of mistaken identity plots (Jon swapping Mance and Gilly’s babies, Melisandre disguising Mance as Rattleshirt, fake!Arya who is actually Jeyne Poole, the inane grey girl plot, etc etc). In broad strokes, it hints that Jon mistaking people should be looked at carefully because they foreshadow something else.

In this chapter, Jon receives a raven informing him that his half-sister Arya Stark is to marry Ramsay Bolton. He’s conflicted between keeping faith with the Night’s Watch and worrying about Arya. In reality, this isn’t Arya but Jeyne Poole in disguise. In the books, this is part of Jon’s Winterfell side-plot where he's tempted back to his family and pander to his wish to retake his home. In the show, Jeyne was switched by Sansa and they conveniently made Jon clueless about the whole thing (not a good look if he did know she was there getting raped and yet did nothing, because Sansa is his endgame love interest).

Sometime after, Jon goes for a walk with Ghost to angst about this, then finds Melisandre who he mistakes for Ygritte at first. Melisandre tells Jon that she knows about his sister Arya marrying Ramsay and that she has seen her in prophetic visions. Much later on, the “girl in grey” that Melisandre sees will be “revealed” to be Alys Karstark instead. In hindsight, it will become obvious that the “girl in grey” is actually meant to be Sansa Stark since she lurks in the background in all these mistaken identities: Arya Stark // Jeyne Poole, Ygritte // Melisandre, Alys Karstark // Sansa Stark. In the show, they cut this bloated storyline by switching Jeyne with Sansa and making Alys Karstark a redhead.

    [01] In the shadow of the Wall, the direwolf brushed up against his fingers. For half a heartbeat the night came alive with a thousand smells, and Jon Snow heard the crackle of the crust breaking on a patch of old snow. Someone was behind him, he realized suddenly. Someone who smelled warm as a summer day.     [02] When he turned he saw Ygritte. She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander’s Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon’s heart leapt into his mouth. “Ygritte,” he said.     “Lord Snow.” The voice was Melisandre’s.     Surprise made him recoil from her. “Lady Melisandre.” He took a step backwards. “I mistook you for someone else.” [03] At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face.

[01] Jon feels someone that smells as warm as a summer day. This can’t be Ygritte since he met her in autumn and it can’t be Melisandre since he says she smells of smoke and blood the first time they meet in ASOS. The “warm as a summer day” gives it away as who this really is meant to foreshadow, a regular childhood acquaintance since most of Jon’s childhood that he remembers took place during the Long Summer (in specific, Sansa was born either at spring or summer, while Arya was definitely born in summer).

AGOT #52 Jon #7: The old men called this weather spirit summer, and said it meant the season was giving up its ghosts at last. After this the cold would come, they warned, and a long summer always meant a long winter. This summer had lasted ten years. Jon had been a babe in arms when it began.

[02] Jon then mistakes Ygritte and Melisandre, but he’s dismayed as to why this happened when they’re actually very different physically and the only thing in common is that they’re both redheads. A childhood acquaintance who has red hair, so Cat and all of the Stark kids (except Arya, which is notable since she and Jeyne are both brunettes, who they think the “girl in grey” is at first). Ygritte and Melisandre (and later the “girl in grey”) are all female, so this suggests the subject should be one as well, narrowing this further to either Cat or Sansa. Since Cat and Jon disliked each other, Jon wouldn’t characterise her as having a warm smell, therefore by the elimination of parts we get Sansa (awww).

[03] Jon has a daltonic event and mistakes robe colours, he sees Melisandre’s red robes as grey robes. This is notable since they are talking about the “girl in grey” next. This suggests the whole passage should all be looked at together as a single foreshadowing event, therefore to look more closely at all these mistaken identities which I’ve already done in [01] and [02]. The conclusion is that this “girl in grey” is actually meant to represent Sansa. Again, in the show they cut all this bloating, making Sansa go to Jon at the Wall and that’s it.

    “The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.”     “I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?    Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?”    “Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly –”     “– for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will.”

Melisandre says she has seen in prophetic visions that Arya will be coming to Jon at the Wall, dressed in grey and on a dying horse, fleeing from Ramsay’s marriage. Most of what Melisandre says is actually nonsense fuelled by filling the blanks and wishful thinking, because two or three chapters later there’s a POV chapter with Melisandre and only about half of this is truth. Melisandre only sees a grey girl on a dying horse, coming to the Wall to Jon for his protection. It’s possible that Sansa is also fleeing a marriage since it’s present in both fake!Arya and Alys storyline (Arya + Jeyne, Alys, Alayne, all brown-haired, get it?), but that detail isn’t necessary due to never being stated that way. Melisandre filled the blanks with faulty logic, most likely because she overheard Jon receiving Ramsay’s letter in some way (or she was informed). She got the “sister” part right, but that only out of sheer luck.

ADWD #31 Melisandre: The girl. I must find the girl again, the grey girl on the dying horse. Jon Snow would expect that of her, and soon. It would not be enough to say the girl was fleeing. He would want more, he would want the when and where, and she did not have that for him.

ADWD #31 Melisandre: “The girl,” she said. “A girl in grey on a dying horse. Jon Snow’s sister.” Who else could it be? She was racing to him for protection, that much Melisandre had seen clearly.

Melisandre doesn’t give the context as to why she sees the “girl in grey” in her fires. Since her objective is for Jon to trust her just like Stannis trusts her so they can make shadow babies together (dreadful), the logical conclusion is that she asked to be shown something important enough to move him. In response, the fires answered with Sansa (awww). This may be indirectly confirmed by Melisandre commenting that she can see into men’s souls and Jon’s own words loaded with authorial intent, “What do you know of my heart, priestess?“ It suggests that Jon already loves Sansa at this point (there are others sprinkled in the text that suggest it as well), which is the type of icky stuff GRRM would do and that (in this case) I very much appreciate. It shouldn’t matter either way, if this is foreshadowing of the future or says something about the past as well, since the endgame is the same though.

ADWD #03 Jon #1: “I shall pray for the Lord of Light to send me guidance. When I gaze into the flames, I can see through stone and earth, and find the truth within men’s souls. I can speak to kings long dead and children not yet born, and watch the years and seasons flicker past, until the end of days.”

S05E04 - Sons of Harpy

In the show, Jeyne Poole and Mance Rayder (the whole “girl in grey”) were cut from the storyline. In consequence, Melisandre skips the mental seduction and power tripping, going right into the physical seduction (the show is just “sexy” like that, urgh). Jon is very tempted by Melisandre’s beauty (also a metaphor for her power), when Sam leaves them alone he sits straighter and clutches the armrest like a green boy and when she undresses he’s rekt because she’s a redhead with nice titties (the camera-work purposely focus on both with light tricks and close-ups) and he’s very weak against those (he’s a consistent man).

There’s a portion of the dialogue which is common in both mediums. Melisandre promises that if Jon gives himself to her (make shadow babies with her), she’ll give him the power to obtain what he wants. In the books, both Winterfell and a way to save Arya, while in the show, it’s just Winterfell since he’s oblivious about Ramsay having Sansa. In both cases as well, Jon is very much tempted but refuses, saying he swore the Night’s Watch vows, but in the show when she looks at him pointedly because she doesn’t believe him, he adds that he doesn’t want to since he “loves another” still. This is nonsense, Jon is refusing because he knows Melisandre is dangerous and he doesn’t want to be indebted to her (these are his thoughts in the books).

What’s interesting about this scene is actually the potential for Sansa in the background, as was the case for the equivalent chapter in the books.

Sam mentions Lord Ashford, which could be a reference to the Ashford Tourney theory, predicting a Targaryan as Sansa’s final suitor (in the show, it has to be Jon since Aegon VI was cut from the storyline).

Jon is writing stuff down with a quill and two scenes afterwards, Sansa finds Lyanna’s feather at the Crypts of Winterfell. These two scenes are connected visually by a feather object.

Jon is upset for having to ask the Boltons for resources and then he’s seduced by a redhead but refusing by saying he still loves another, while Sansa discusses Jon’s real parents with Littlefinger, as well as her upcoming marriage to Ramsay Bolton. These two scenes are connected thematically as well (sexually even, which is... kind of telling).

This means that either this is a huge coincidence (nah) or they managed to adapt the “mistaken identity” conundrum, just made with different symbolism (very nasty symbolism, the smelling warm like a summer day is just... *cries*), though the underlying idea is the same. Jon “mistakes” Melisandre with Ygritte (well, kinda), but the subtext actually means Sansa.

ADWD #31 MELISANDRE

Melisandre has one POV chapter in the whole series, ADWD #31 Melisandre, where she’s in her chambers, looking into the fire and trying to have visions. It becomes obvious very quickly that Melisandre's interpretation skills are quite bad since her logic process is very flawed. What this also means is whatever Melisandre says she sees in the fire in other character’s POV chapters should be interpreted with huge caution.

    The red priestess closed her eyes and said a prayer, then opened them once more to face the hearthfire. One more time. She had to be certain. Many a priest and priestess before her had been brought down by false visions, by seeing what they wished to see instead of what the Lord of Light had sent.  Stannis was marching south into peril, the king who carried the fate of the world upon his shoulders, Azor Ahai reborn. Surely R’hllor would vouchsafe her a glimpse of what awaited him. Show me Stannis, Lord, she prayed. Show me your king, your instrument.

This passage suggests that R’hllor’s visions are very difficult to interpret to begin with, that people who have these visions are prone to see what they wish to see reflected in them instead of what it really means. In case of Melisandre, it means that her instinct is to believe she’s serving a good god and relate what she sees to Stannis. This is Melisandre’s bias filter.

However, this passage is also explicit in what she’s asking R’hllor to show her. She asks the flames to show her Azor Ahai, which is R’hllor’s champion. What she’ll see next is the same story. Danerys outing herself as Azor Ahai by burning Winterfell with Drogon, moreover attempting to kill Jon Snow and succeeding in killing someone that is mistaken by Sansa Stark.

    [04] Visions danced before her, gold and scarlet, flickering, forming and melting and dissolving into one another, shapes strange and terrifying and seductive. She saw the eyeless faces again, staring out at her from sockets weeping blood. [05] Then the towers by the sea, crumbling as the dark tide came sweeping over them, rising from the depths. Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that turned to mist, bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing. [06] Through curtains of fire great winged shadows wheeled against a hard blue sky.

[04] Melisandre describes the visions she sees in the fire with words associated with fire. The colours are gold and scarlet which are the colour of fire, the verbs are flickering like the movement of flames and then a more flowery language way of describing them, forming / melting / dissolving into one another. Later she’ll also see snowflakes and the like, things different from fire that she can distinguish. What Melisandre is glossing over is that she’s watching something on fire (in hindsight, Winterfell).

This is confirmed by the following phrase. Melisandre sees eyeless faces, staring out of sockets weeping blood. This type of imagery pinpoints what kind of fire it is, since it’s also used with Azor Ahai killing “monsters” with Lightbringer as well as Danerys killing people with dragonfire (in hindsight, they’re the same thing). There are other variants, but the most substantial example is with the common expression: “eyes melting down their cheeks”. In other words, “eyeless sockets weeping blood”.

ASOS #27 Danerys #3: “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.” The black dragon spread his wings and roared. A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head.

ADWD #10 Jon #3: “I looked at that book Maester Aemon left me. The Jade Compendium. The pages that told of Azor Ahai. Lightbringer was his sword. Tempered with his wife’s blood if Votar can be believed. Thereafter Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm. In battle the blade burned fiery hot. Once Azor Ahai fought a monster. When he thrust the sword through the belly of the beast, its blood began to boil. Smoke and steam poured from its mouth, its eyes melted and dribbled down its cheeks, and its body burst into flame.”

ADWD #16 Danerys #3: “My dragons have grown, my shoulders have not. They range far afield, hunting.” Hazzea, forgive me. She wondered how much Xaro knew, what whispers he had heard. “Ask the Good Masters of Astapor about my dragons if you doubt them.” I saw a slaver’s eyes melt and go running down his cheeks. “Tell me true, old friend, why did you seek me out if not to trade?”

[05] Melisandre describes the sea destroying towers. It’s worth remembering that these visions are supposed to be tricky, so the most likely interpretation that these are towers by the sea is factually wrong. Since I propose this to be the same story that is being told, the common subject of Winterfell being destroyed by the sea as well as Winterfell burning was already explored before. In ACOK, Jojen Reed had a green dream where the sea came to Winterfell and that predicted the Greyjoys invading Winterfell. There is a very good meta that proposes this green-dream predicts Winterfell will burn a third time and that it will be invaded by the sea once more (I cannot find it because I’m incompetent and don’t tag), but this time by Danerys with the Dothraki, which hail from the Great Grass Sea. That fits quite well into this.

Moreover, Melisandre describes the sea as a dark tide made of skulls that rose from the depths and sweeps over the towers to destroy them. Together, these suggest the Army of the Dead, since that one is composed of undead corpses (dark tide made of skulls) which have been reanimated (rose from the depths), as well as their invasion of Winterfell (sweeping over the towers and destroying them). Furthermore, the skeletons are having freaky sex and intercourse in ASOIAF’s prophetic dreams often mean war (for example, Danerys sees some dwarves fucking a woman as an allegory for the War of the Five Kings). It’s worth noting that “rising from the depths” could also allude to the corpses inside the crypts Winterfell, suggesting all those dead Starks can come back to either join the Army of the Dead or fight against them.

ACOK #34 Bran #4: “I dreamed that the sea was lapping all around Winterfell. I saw black waves crashing against the gates and towers, and then the salt water came flowing over the walls and filled the castle. Drowned men were floating in the yard. When I first dreamed the dream, back at Greywater, I didn’t know their faces, but now I do. That Alebelly is one, the guard who called our names at the feast. Your septon’s another. Your smith as well.”

[06] Melisandre describes great winged shadows flying in a wide curve amidst tall fires. This suggests that the dragons are flying over and setting stuff on fire (in hindsight, the dragons are setting Winterfell on fire). While the three dragons are described as winged shadows, this is most prevalent with Drogon.

AGOT #68 Danerys #9: Wings shadowed her fever dreams. (...) She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. "Faster!" the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. (...) And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings.

ACOK #12 Danerys #1: "Aegon's dragons were named for the gods of Old Valyria," she told her bloodriders one morning after a long night's journey. "(...) and Balerion ... his fire was as black as his scales, his wings so vast that whole towns were swallowed up in their shadow when he passed overhead." The Dothraki looked at her hatchlings uneasily. The largest of her three was shiny black, his scales slashed with streaks of vivid scarlet to match his wings and horns. "Khaleesi," Aggo murmured, "there sits Balerion, come again."

ASOS #27 Danerys #3: "And here he waits." Ser Jorah and Belwas walked beside her to the litter, where Drogon and his brothers lay basking in the sun. Jhiqui unfastened one end of the chain, and handed it down to her. When she gave a yank, the black dragon raised his head, hissing, and unfolded wings of night and scarlet. Kraznys mo Nakloz smiled broadly as their shadow fell across him.

ADWD #2 Danerys #1: Bones they were, broken bones and blackened. The longer ones had been cracked open for their marrow. "It were the black one," the man said, in a Ghiscari growl, "the winged shadow. He come down from the sky and … and …"

ADWD #11 Danerys #2: And Drogon ... The winged shadow, the grieving father called him. He was the largest of her three, the fiercest, the wildest, with scales as black as night and eyes like pits of fire.

ADWD #52 Danerys #9: Dany hit him. "No," she screamed, swinging the lash with all the strength that she had in her. The dragon jerked his head back. "No," she screamed again. "NO!" The barbs raked along his snout. Drogon rose, his wings covering her in shadow. Dany swung the lash at his scaled belly, back and forth until her arm began to ache. His long serpentine neck bent like an archer's bow. With a hisssssss, he spat black fire down at her. Dany darted underneath the flames, swinging the whip and shouting, "No, no, no. Get DOWN!" His answering roar was full of fear and fury, full of pain. His wings beat once, twice …

This type of “winged shadow” imagery is shared with an eagle that stalks Jon during ACOK (in fact, it’s a skinchanger checking up on Mormont’s column) and later attacks him when he’s taken hostage by the wildlings because it detects he’s being duplicitous. This blue-grey eagle is changed to a black eagle in the show (subtle) and attacks Jon right after he outs himself as a betrayer (”You were right the whole time!”). Together, these foreshadow that Danerys will attempt to burn Jon with Drogon, butthurt about him betraying her.

ACOK #52 Jon #7: Then a sudden gust of cold made his fur stand up, and the air thrilled to the sound of wings. As he lifted his eyes to the ice-white mountain heights above, a shadow plummeted out of the sky. A shrill scream split the air. He glimpsed blue-grey pinions spread wide, shutting out the sun ... "Ghost!" Jon shouted, sitting up. He could still feel the talons, the pain. "Ghost, to me!"

 ASOS #73 Jon #10: "Something's coming." Varamyr sat crosslegged on the half-frozen ground, his wolves circled restlessly around him. A shadow swept over him, and Jon looked up to see the eagle's blue-grey wings. "Coming, from the east [Essos]."

I refuse to post #agony kissing each other’s chin and moustache, with Jon staring at Drogon over Danerys’ shoulder while the dragon glares at him in suspicion because EWWW, but that’s the perfect moment to post here so whatever... imagine it,

[07]The girl. I must find the girl again, the grey girl on the dying horse. Jon Snow would expect that of her, and soon. It would not be enough to say the girl was fleeing. He would want more, he would want the when and where, and she did not have that for him. [08] She had seen the girl only once. A girl as grey as ash, and even as I watched she crumbled and blew away.

[07] Melisandre switches focus and thinks about the "grey girl” and how she must find more about her in the flames, to appease Jon. She’s dismayed she hasn’t seen her again, but she’s actually asking the flames the wrong question. Melisandre asked the flames to show her Azor Ahai, so they showed Danerys burning Winterfell and outing herself as such. She now wishes to find the grey girl again, so the flames show her how to find her (in hindsight, it’s Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven through the Weirwood Network).

[08] This girl is as grey as ash, she crumbles and blows away. This is the same imagery of burning until there’s nothing but ash. This fits the scenario where Danerys burns Winterfell and ends up burning someone that is mistaken by Sansa either willingly or unwillingly (I’d say willingly). Jon later believes this is grey girl is Alys Karstark and in the show, it has been speculated that she will die and be mistaken for Sansa (they even changed her hair from black to red between adaptations).

    A face took shape within the hearth. Stannis? she thought, for just a moment – but no, these were not his features. A wooden face, corpse white. Was this the enemy? A thousand red eyes floated in the rising flames. He sees me. Beside him, a boy with a wolf’s face threw back his head and howled.

This is Bran Stark (wolf boy) with a Weirwood Heart Tree (wooden face and corpse-white). Together, these represent Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven’s powers to check out the Weirwood Network and find out about things (”a thousand red eyes that see everywhere”). Melisandre’s question is answered, Bran will find this grey girl through the Weirwood Network. In hindsight, this suggests that Bran will find out about Sansa’s mistaken identity as well as kidnapping (?), plus that he’ll find out where she was taken.

    The red priestess shuddered. Blood trickled down her thigh, black and smoking. The fire was inside her, an agony, an ecstasy, filling her, searing her, transforming her. Shimmers of heat traced patterns on her skin, insistent as a lover’s hand. Strange voices called to her from days long past. “Melony,” she heard a woman cry. A man’s voice called, “Lot Seven.” She was weeping, and her tears were flame. And still she drank it in.

This functions as “punctuation”, separating the former segment from the latter. Melisandre sees herself before she became a priestess of R’hllor, as a slave sold to a red temple at an early age. It’s worth noting that this would be a clever way for the author to hint at a kidnapping plot, as slaves have no agency and they’re only property of someone else (as a hostage, Sansa is known as the property of the crown, this is exactly what Littlefinger calls her situation).

    Snowflakes swirled from a dark sky and ashes rose to meet them, the grey and the white whirling around each other as flaming arrows arced above a wooden wall and dead things shambled silent through the cold, beneath a great grey cliff where fires burned inside a hundred caves. Then the wind rose and the white mist came sweeping in, impossibly cold, and one by one the fires went out. Afterward only the skulls remained.     Death, thought Melisandre. The skulls are death.     The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain. Now he was a man, now a wolf, now a man again. But the skulls were here as well, the skulls were all around him. Melisandre had seen his danger before, had tried to warn the boy of it. Enemies all around him, daggers in the dark. He would not listen.     Unbelievers never listened until it was too late.

This is like a continuation of what Melisandre asked first in [1,2,3], it’s what follows Danerys burning Winterfell, the Battle against the Army of the Dead proper. A dark sky represents the Long Night, the white snowflakes and the grey ash represents the destructive forces of both ice and fire respectively. The Others have brought their cold winds to Winterfell and Danerys has burned it as well because she’s raging. Interestingly, since it implies that some type of undead wins the battle (”the wind rose and white mist came, one by one the fires went out and afterwards only the skulls remained”), either killing everyone or forcing them to flee south.

Jon is also mentioned of course. He’ll fight this battle, as expected. Much later, it’s implied that Melisandre’s visions are meant to symbolise “dragons” and “kings”, which fits this narrative. Danerys as Azor Ahai and burning stuff with Drogon, Jon and Winterfell both, out of anger because she finds out Jon is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.

ADWD #39 Jon #8: “And keep him away from the red woman. She knows who he is. She sees things in her fires.” Arya, he thought, hoping it was so. “Ashes and cinders.” “Kings and dragons.” Dragons again. For a moment Jon could almost see them too, coiling in the night, their dark wings outlined against a sea of flame. “If she knew, she would have taken the boy away from us. Dalla’s boy, not your monster. A word in the king’s ear would have been the end of it.” And of me. Stannis would have taken it for treason. “Why let it happen if she knew?” “Because it suited her. Fire is a fickle thing. No one knows which way a flame will go.”

    “What do you see, my lady?” the boy asked, softly.     Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow. (...) Yet now she could not even seem to find her king. I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R’hllor shows me only Snow.

To recap... Melisandre asks the flames to show her Azor Ahai, so she sees what she believes are “unrelated” visions, but they’re actually Danerys burning Winterfell and outing herself as Azor Ahai (the same story). Melisandre thinks she must find the grey girl, so she sees what she believes is the enemy, but it’s actually Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven because he gets to find the grey girl. Melisandre trips out and then the visions continue “unprompted”, she sees Jon Snow because he’s the one who’s going to rescue Sansa after being told by Bran where she’s at. Yet, she connects Azor Ahai with Jon Snow.

Even if people don’t agree with what I’m proposing, it should be more than clear Melisandre misread what she sees in the flames because she has bad basic interpretation. Melisandre should be equating Azor Ahai with either the skulls being naughty because that’s the first thing she sees or the wolf boy since that’s the first person she actually sees, but instead she dismisses the former as non-important and the latter as the enemy (Bran is R’hllor’s champion’s enemy alright, but not how she believes), then bridges the start vision with the end vision, identifying Azor Ahai with Jon Snow. It’s very bad.

    (...) [09] “The girl,” she said. “A girl in grey on a dying horse. Jon Snow’s sister.” Who else could it be? [10] She was racing to him for protection, that much Melisandre had seen clearly. “I have seen her in my flames, but only once. We must win the lord commander’s trust, and the only way to do that is to save her.”     “Me save her, you mean? The Lord o’ Bones?” He laughed. “No one ever trusted Rattleshirt but fools. Snow’s not that. If his sister needs saving, he’ll send his crows. I would.”     “He is not you. He made his vows and means to live by them. The Night’s Watch takes no part. But you are not Night’s Watch. You can do what he cannot.”

[09] Who else could it be? This is blatant trolling by the author since this is a string of mistaken identities. [A] Jon Snow has no sisters since he’s a mistaken identity himself, he’s unwittingly posing as Eddard Stark’s bastard son when he’s Rhaegar Targaryan and Lyanna Stark’s trueborn son, so his sisters are his cousins. [B] Jon was informed Ramsay Bolton married Arya as a captive in Winterfell and Melisandre must have known about him, so she tricks him into thinking that the “girl in grey” is Arya when it’s Jeyne in disguise. [C] Jon later believes this "girl in grey” means Alys Karstark (it is and isn’t) since Stark and Karstark are kin some generations back. In resume.

Jon’s sister but Jon says he has no sister because they’re his cousins, he has two instead of one and such Sansa lurks in the background.

Arya Stark, who’s actually Jeyne Poole. Theon spends ADWD comparing these two to Sansa, therefore Sansa lurks in the background. In the show, Sansa took this plot directly.

Alys Karstark, who is kind of random... but that I propose will be killed and mistaken for Sansa, therefore Sansa lurks in the background. In the show, her hair colour was changed from brown to red to match Sansa’s.

[10] The grey girl goes to the Wall for Jon’s protection is framed as certain. The way this is framed is the same as GRRM’s original plotline, where “Arya” goes to the Wall for protection. That original plotline is now irrelevant as most of it has taken another form (including Arya’s character), but Jon’s sister going to the Wall for protection seems to be something that was carried over. In the books, it’s a side-plot that keeps tempting him back to his family and back home (successfully). In the show, it’s played “straight” since Sansa took Jeyne’s plot and later flees Winterfell with Theon to the Wall for Jon’s protection. It’s unclear how the Night’s Watch’s vows business will go in the books, in the original plotline Jon turns Arya down because of them, while in the show Jon believes he was released from them and swears to protect Sansa immediately.

So in TWOW, Sansa will bail out from the Vale and will flee to the Wall to Jon. I’ve seen several metas on how this sister is supposed to be Sansa (I agree!!) and what way she’ll travel. They’re all very good and I recommend them (if only I tagged and knew how to find them in the rat maze that is my blog) I’m actually only going to make a few observations of the following passage which I don’t believe where made in any of them (if they were, I honestly don’t remember and I apologise in advance. They predict the way she’s coming, but they also identify her through those same descriptions.

    [11] “If your stiff-necked lord commander will allow it. Did your fires show you where to find this girl?”     “I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever.”     “Long Lake. [12] What else did you see around this girl?”     “Hills. Fields. Trees. A deer, once. Stones. She is staying well away from villages. [13] When she can she rides along the bed of little streams, to throw hunters off her trail.”     He frowned. “That will make it difficult. She was coming north, you said. Was the lake to her east or to her west?”     Melisandre closed her eyes, remembering. “West.”     [14] “She is not coming up the kingsroad, then. Clever girl. There are fewer watchers on the other side, and more cover. And some hidey-holes I have used myself from time –” He broke off at the sound of a warhorn and rose swiftly to his feet.

[11] Melisandre describes “where” this sister can be found with an elemental allegory of water and ice. Sansa is half-Tully from her mother’s side, the lords of Riverrun and the Riverlands, a place associated with rivers and waters. She resembles her mother and she has the same eye colour, which Littlefinger describes in AFFC as “blue as a sunlit sea” and when she’s a bit older many men will drown in them (younger too, apparently). Sansa is half-Stark from her father’s side, the lords of Winterfell and the North, associated with ice and snow. This piece of land comprises half the territory of the Seven Kingdoms and both Robert Baratheon and Tyrion Lannister have described the North as “going on forever”. While the element fits all the Stark kids, since it’s female and the insistence on the colour blue points to Sansa over Arya.

[12] Melisandre describes the “surroundings” of this sister with another nature allegory referencing the current location and even the relevant characters. Sansa is at the Vale, a region associated with mountains and vales and trees. In specific, Sansa begins AFFC at the Eyrie which is the Vale’s highest point (hill) and then descends into the Gates of the Moon at the mountain’s base (field), said to be surrounded by a thick forest. These locations are both very far away from regular villages as they’re two isolated castles. The following, mentioning a deer and stones and streams suggests she’d go through forest, whatever stone means (mountains for example) and water.

Sansa befriends plenty of people, but not that many would fit the words “hill”, “field”, “trees”, “streams”. Only Mya Stone is referenced proper, she’s Robert’s Baratheon bastard daughter, whose house sigil is a stag (deer) and whose surname is stone. This suggests that Mya accompanies Sansa in her journey North. The rest, I’ve no idea. There is “water” in this, so this could mean Brynden Tully, Gendry Waters, Brienne Tarth (in her case, there’s also the colour blue). In the show, Brynden is randomly killed, Gendry shows up in Winterfell in a very forced manner, and Brienne does find Sansa on her way North. Of all three, Brienne has big chances.

[13] The journey north references avoiding hunters, which can both signify the bounty hunters that are at the Vale after Sansa (for example, Ser Shadrich), as well as the Boltons later on. Ramsay is a known hunter in both medias, in the show he’s precisely introduced in this fashion hunting for a human girl (!), and after Theon and Sansa escape Winterfell they are chased by his dogs. In a way, just this alone hints that there will be some kind of chasing sequence.

There is the widely accepted theory that Jon is going to stay inside Ghost for awhile while “dead”, which considering the dynamics at play suggest some kind of Red Riding Hood reversal moment (Jon while warging Ghost as the “big wolf” but he’s good instead of bad), Sansa as the “red cap” since she’s a redhead, Ramsay as the hunter chasing after her but he’s evil instead of good). It’s worth noting that GRRM likes fairytales with wolves and specifically mentioned Little Red Riding Hood and the Starks in an interview a few years back.

2014-11-09: "Well, they're mythic. I think even as a kid I responded to the werewolf legends and the wolves in the wood and, you know, Little Red Riding Hood and all of that," says Martin, who claims his choice for the Stark's direwolf banner came from a gut feeling rather than an attempt at symbolism.

There is a specific passage in Jon’s very first chapter in AGOT that could be foreshadowing for such a plot as well. Jon feeds Ghost some chicken, there’s a mongrel who attempts to steal the food (Ramsay has hunting dogs which he calls his girls) from the wolf and the two face off, but then Ghost wins. In this case, the food can foreshadow Sansa and / or Winterfell (I’d say both). In the show, Jon and Sansa retake Winterfell from Ramsay, fulfilling this little one.

AGOT #05 Jon #1: Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

As a side-note, there is a sexual component to all these stories. Ramsay rapes and tortures Jeyne in the books and Sansa in the show. The Little Red Riding Hood is actually an allegory for sexual male desire and a girl having sex for the first time (colloquially, “she has seen the wolf” *shifts eyes*). AGOT #05 Jon #1 foreshadows the conflict between Ramsay and Jon through animal counterparts where they’re both hungry and I’ve watched Evangelion too many times it also features a sexual pun (”He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs.”). I’m not sure what to think of it. I’m just hoping Sansa’s fate is kinder in the books than in the show, because from that disgusting mess of season 5 I’ll only miss Sansa’s friendship with Theon Greyjoy.

[14] Melisandre mentions that the grey girl will travel through isolated areas to avoid being seen. Mance believes this makes the grey girl a clever girl. I could write about Sansa is smart but I’ll let Arya speak for me. Yeah.

THE BURNING OF WINTERFELL

It’s interesting to look for Jon’s chapters to find Sansa’s shadows, to see if they have foreshadowing of her role in his life. There is a “redhead obsession” with Ygritte and Melisandre (the show added Ros as well), it is clear they are meant to foreshadow that his endgame love interest is also a redhead, but also other things such as singing and nice titties, etc etc (all things Sansa has as well). There is also a “brunette swerve” with Val (he thinks she’s the most lovely when she’s described as a brunette) and Alys Karstark during ADWD, which fits the time Sansa spends parading as a brunette Alayne Stone in the Vale. In the case of Val, Jon appreciates her character strength in face of contrariety and unwilling to be subservient, which mirrors Sansa’s story as it’s being framed in season 8 (northern independence).

Jon doesn’t really think of Sansa much, which many think is narratively suspect (I agree!!). In specific in ADWD, Jon thinks of Sansa in two specific contexts. The first is to assert Winterfell belongs to her by birthright and the second is to oddly associate her with Ygritte for the first time. The latter is one reason why it’s narratively suspect that he doesn’t think of her, since Jon compares Ygritte being skinny with Arya, but it’s Sansa who resembles Ygritte since they share colouring, yet he only connects them at this point in a moment of despair.

ADWD #3 Jon #1: “By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

ADWD #17 Jon #4: Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

ADWD #69 Jon #13: Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.

In the specific case of Danerys burning Winterfell and killing someone that is mistaken for Sansa, the foreshadowing could be present in Ygritte references since about ~75% of them in ASOS after Jon leaves her would fit that plot device. The remaining ~25% also have the potential to fit since they could be details and motivations for the things he has done, but since there’s no way to tell (yet) I’ll leave those out and only reference major examples and add the rest if they happen later (there’s a cute one that may foreshadow Sansa taking care of Jon while he’s hurt, I want it so bad... :<).

A STORM OF SWORDS

ASOS #48 Jon #6: When the dreams took him, he found himself back home once more, splashing in the hot pools beneath a huge white weirwood that had his father’s face. Ygritte was with him, laughing at him, shedding her skins till she was naked as her name day, trying to kiss him, but he couldn’t, not with his father watching. He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night’s Watch. I will not father a bastard, he told her. I will not. I will not. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she whispered, her skin dissolving in the hot water, the flesh beneath sloughing off her bones until only skull and skeleton remained, and the pool bubbled thick and red.

This could foreshadow a “fake” Sansa (Ygritte isn’t Sansa after all) being burned during the Battle against the Army of the Dead, which would happen in the godswood. In specific, slough is a verb that’s almost exclusively used for burning in ASOIAF (there is one exception, an undead!bear and even then this bear might the one that shows up earlier and got burned...).

ASOS #55 Jon #7: But he remembered the grotto best of all, the look of her naked in the torchlight, the taste of her mouth when it opened under his. Ygritte, stay away. Go south and raid, go hide in one of those roundtowers you liked so well. You’ll find nothing here but death.

This could be foreshadowing of Sansa leaving Winterfell in the middle of the battle against the Army of the Dead (not an isolated case) and taken south either willingly or unwillingly but also mistaken for dead up north in Winterfell. In specific, Sansa has a vast association with towers and she’s known for liking the southron architecture XD, which Ygritte also does apparently.

ASOS #55 Jon #7: He found Ygritte sprawled across a patch of old snow beneath the Lord Commander’s Tower, with an arrow between her breasts. The ice crystals had settled over her face, and in the moonlight it looked as though she wore a glittering silver mask. The arrow was black, Jon saw, but it was fletched with white duck feathers. Not mine, he told himself, not one of mine. But he felt as if it were. (...) He touched her hair. “You’re kissed by fire, remember? Lucky. It will take more than an arrow to kill you.”

This could foreshadow Jon finding someone dead that he mistakes for Sansa during the Battle against the Army of the Dead (ice on her face), after Danerys burned her with Drogon out of jealousy (black arrow to the heart). which would fill him with guilt. In specific, Ygritte is found beneath the Lord Commander’s Tower, which Jon accidentally burned to kill a wight. This would fit very well with Danerys’ vision at the House of Undying that could reference burning Winterfell with Drogon (”a stone beast flew from a smoking tower breathing shadow fire”) during the Battle against the Army of the Dead. It’s worth noting Burned Tower is NEXT to godswood, so this body could be found next to both places.

As a side-note, I was meant to finish this nonsense before season 8 began, but I was tired of writing the previous four posts, so this one stayed in the back burner (there are more posts, I write a lot XD). I’m completing it just after 8x2 aired and this is the status quo as of now. Jon convinced Danerys to fight against the Army of the Dead, but she’s both jealous of Sansa and angry at Jon after finding out he’s the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.

ASOS #64 Jon #8: He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. “Father?” he called. “Bran? Rickon?” No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. “Uncle?” he called. “Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me.” Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place. His crutch slipped and he fell to his knees. The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his golden eyes shining sadly through the dark …

This could foreshadow Jon feeling guilty over fake Sansa’s death (”a direwolf spotted with blood”), while the Battle against the Army of the Dead is still raging (”a chill wind was blowing on his neck”). In specific on the latter, Theon has a “counter” dream where he’s feasting with the dead in that same Great Hall (don’t worry about Theon, what is dead may never die). Interestingly, after Jon has this dream and he’s trying to figure out what it means (lol, poor baby), a horn blows and Jon thinks it’s the Horn of Winter (rumoured to bring the Wall down, which would allow the Others to invade, as well as waking giants from the earth, which would probably mean animating all the dead Starks).

Much like the previous example, things are lining up rather well. Sam told Jon he’s not Ned Stark’s bastard but Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark’s trueborn son in Winterfell’s crypts (”You are no Stark.”), and he’s most likely having a silent identity crisis (”I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place.”). Alys Karstark was featured a lot in both episodes and that has added with the speculation that she’ll die and mistaken with Sansa (her hair colour was changed from books to show) and Karstark’s sigil is a sunburst (“a light has gone out somewhere″).

A DANCE WITH DRAGONS

Most of Ygritte mentions in ADWD are “irrelevant” for this subject. In broad strokes, they reference giants (if they’re meant to reference the “waking of giants” and these mean the dead Starks maybe the insistence means fake Sansa comes back from the dead, imagine all that glorious man pain eh...), comparing to other women (Melisandre and Val), remembering her when seeing random redheads (to push the reader to remember Ygritte when reading about Sansa’s red hair of course), then some interesting passages that may foreshadow something else. In specific, one two of them may foreshadow the Battle against the Army of the Dead.

ADWD #58 Jon #12: “Stand fast,” Jon Snow called. “Throw them back.” He stood atop the Wall, alone. “Flame,” he cried, “feed them flame,” but there was no one to pay heed.They are all gone. They have abandoned me. Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. “Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she’d appeared. The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. “I am the Lord of Winterfell,” Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled –

While Jon is dreaming he’s at the Wall fighting the undead, this can foreshadow the Battle against the Army of the Dead at Winterfell as well (“I am the Lord of Winterfell”), where he’ll have to face undead friends (including fake Sansa and Robb!) and Danerys will try to burn him (Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. “Snow,” an eagle cried.).

Much like the previous example, things are lining up rather well. Jon believes that he needs the dragons to defeat the undead and he has acquired Rhaegal as his personal mount (“his blade burned red in his fist”). Danerys is pissed off after Jon revealed that he’s Rhaegar Targaryan’s trueborn son, realising he has a claim to the Iron Throne.

ADWD #69 Jon #13: Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night’s Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon’s breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell – I want my bride back – I want my bride back – I want my bride back – “I think we had best change the plan,” Jon Snow said.

In this case, Jon thinks that going against Ramsay Bolton is treason, but then thinks of his family and directly associates Sansa with Ygritte for the first time (the fact that he never did before is narratively suspect), then changes his plans and decides to engage him, foolishly reveals his plans to the rest of the Night’s Watch and ends up dead. This can foreshadow Jon choosing his family and betraying Danerys for their sake, then ending up targeted.

This example wasn’t part of the original draft of this post, but I procrastinated and in this case it was worth it because the show’s clunky dialogue (”That’s treason.”) when Jon’s parentage reveal was done (the crypts, matching the foreshadowing of the last example of ASOS as well) make it relevant. In the books, Jon thinks it’s treason to go against Ramsay, while in the show, Jon thinks it’s treason to go against Danerys. The parallels between Ramsay and Danerys are actually quite vast (there’s a very good post about this, I even made an infographic, but I can’t find it) and in this case, they’re pretty much the same narrative too. Both Ramsay and Danerys have taken Winterfell away from the Starks and they’re threats to them.

ROS

Ros is a prostitute of renowned beauty in the brothel in Winterfell's outlying town. She has drawn the attention of the young nobles of Winterfell, including Theon Greyjoy who is a regular customer. Jon Snow once paid Ros for her time but explains he did not have sex with her because of a pang of conscience over the possibility of fathering a child who would be a bastard like him. She’s yet ANOTHER redhead (with great titties) which relates to Jon’s storyline.

Ros is a show-only character, but when Sam asks Jon to describe her, he says her hair was red and she had nice titties (a consistent man, I tell you), then when Sam makes the same question for Ygritte, he says that her hair was red. It’s difficult to grasp whether these redheads in Jon’s storyline are simply meant to foreshadow the future (Jon will love Sansa in the future) or they’re actually saying something about the past as well (he always loved her). It doesn’t really matter either way (IT MATTERS TO ME!), since the endgame is the same.

S03E06 - The Climb : Chaos is a Ladder

Regardless, Ros has an interesting death since it’s part of yet another redhead choo-choo train. Varys finds Littlefinger in the throne room and they discuss the Game of Thrones and how to win the Iron Throne (they even talk about the Tully sisters, both redheads). Littlefinger then announces that he thwarted Varys’ plan of giving Sansa to the Tyrells and reveals that he has given Ros to Joffrey to do what he wants. In particular, Littlefinger’s final stretch “Chaos is a Ladder” is put in the foreground with two scenes, the first Joffrey having killed Ros and the second with Sansa crying after realising she cannot escape King’s Landing after all. This could foreshadow Sansa’s fate during the Battle against the Army of the Dead. Danerys kills a fake Sansa by burning her with Drogon, but Sansa was actually kidnapped and taken south as a hostage instead.

Notice that both Joffrey is the usurper to Jon’s “real” claim (just like Danerys) and that Joffrey kills Ros the same way Ygritte died, plus the arrow is black and red (just like the colours of Danerys’ dragon Drogon). This crossbow (or one alike) has shown up once again for season 8, as Cersei tasks Bronn to go North to kill both Tyrion and Jaime with the crossbow that killed Tywin. It suggests that fake Sansa is killed by Danerys and she’s whisked away by Lannister betrayal (this latter one was also foreshadowed in Bran’s prophetic visions, as they include Roose Bolton killing Robb Stark after saying “the Lannisters send their regards”).

The directors have said that they are very careful with transition scenes and that they mean something, this may not be true for all of them, but this one is a strong candidate for two major reasons. The first, is that this is a redhead choo-choo train for some reason that is actually bigger than this as the two scenes that precede them also feature redheads and the following one does as well. The second is that this is Littlefinger’s infamous speech about climbing to power (the very name of this episode and what the wildlings are doing) and winning the Game of Thrones, obviously something important. So what are these scenes? Below, their transition matrix.

[31] The wildlings are climbing the Wall but it breaks.

[32] Loras and Sansa discuss their future marriage.

[33] Cersei and Tyrion discuss how Tywin arranged to break Loras and Sansa’s betrothal, by arranging Cersei to marry Loras and Tyrion to marry Sansa.

[34] Tyrion goes to Sansa’s room to explain how she’s no longer marrying Loras, but she’ll have to marry him instead.

[35] Varys finds Littlefinger in the throne room and they discuss the Game of Thrones.

[36] Littlefinger’s speech is in the foreground while Joffrey raises up after killing Ros with a crossbow.

[37] Littlefinger’s speech is in the foreground while Sansa watches the ships leaving King’s Landing, realising she’s a prisoner there still.

[38] The wildlings finish climbing the Wall.

The case of [31] and [38] is interesting because the wildlings are climbing the Wall, the name of this episode is The Climb, and Littlefinger gives his infamous speech about chaos being a ladder and that climbing it is all there is. There is a lot of climbing case and in the wildling’s case, it features Orell (eagle guy!), Jon and Ygritte... yes, a redhead.

The first scene is where the Wall accidentally breaks and a bunch of them die, leaving Jon and Ygritte hanging by their safety rope. Orell decides to cut this rope, but Jon manages to secure himself to the Wall and saves Ygritte. The two hug, while Jon glares at Orell (eagle guy), but then Ygritte leaves starts climbing up ahead of him. The second scene is the wildlings reaching on top of the Wall. Ygritte is the “first” to arrive and Jon follows her (hilariously, an eagle passes by as they stare up to the sky, so maybe Rhaegal will be involved). The two raise up and stare at the landscape, then they kiss.

It may foreshadow Danerys attacking both Jon and Sansa (Orell is the skinchanger that controls the black eagle that attacks Jon and he tries to cut their rope), then Sansa decides to go on ahead either willingly or unwillingly (Ygritte goes on ahead) and manages to hatch some plan to win the Game of Thrones (she’s the first to arrive, Sansa crying in King’s Landing directly follows Ygritte arriving at the top) and Jon follows her. I’ll maybe forgive the show for romanticising Jon x Ygritte so much if it actually goes exactly like this. Fuck yes, Sansa winning the Game of Thrones.

The case for [32], [33] and [34] is also interesting, because it’s the Lannisters attempt at solidifying their power through Sansa as Key of the North. There is plenty of speculation about what Cersei’s role in season 8 as well as Tyrion betraying his allies for Cersei (that conversation in season 7 between them that people never got to see).  ETA: Since Cersei sends Bronn to kill Tyrion in 8x1 and yet seems like he has a role to play yet, this panders to that speculation that Tyrion buys an extra-life by delivering Sansa to Cersei. As a side-note for fans of Lyanna’s feather, [31] is preceded by Tywin telling Oleanna that she will accept his plan of breaking the Loras and Sansa marriage to marry each with the Lannisters, threatening to name Loras to the Kingsguard if she doesn’t and picks up a feather, but she accepts the deal and breaks this feather.

In particular there are arguments that Loras Tyrell is actually a stand-in for Jon and interestingly, [31] Jon staring after Ygritte climbing the Wall transitions into a close-up of Loras’ rose pin (the winter rose symbolises Jon’s real parents, Rhaegar Targaryan and Lyanna Stark, therefore that he’s the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. In this case it could foreshadow a romance between Jon and Sansa, but then they are put in a position where they must marry others instead (if it’s literal, Cersei wishes to marry Jon to solidify her claim to the Iron Throne and Tyrion wishes to marry Sansa again to unite the North into Cersei’s hand, I read a theory about the kidnapping plot going exactly like this once).

[qqueenofhades]

Medieval cosmetics: The history of looking good

So, I recently saw a post on my dash with someone lamenting the fact that in the medieval era, they would have been considered ugly as there was no makeup, and someone else offering a well-meant attempt to reassure them: that since they’d have no pox scars, rotten teeth, filthy hair, etc, all medieval men would think they were amazingly hot. While I appreciate the sentiment, there’s.... more than a little mythology on both sides of this idea, and frankly, our medieval foremothers would be surprised and insulted to hear that they were apparently the stereotyped bunch of unwashed, snaggle-toothed crones who put no care or effort into their appearance, and had no tools with which to do so.

(Or: Yep. Hilary Has More Things To Say. You probably know where this is going.)

I answered an ask a couple weeks ago that was mostly about medieval gynecological care and the accuracy of the “mother dying in childbirth” stereotype, but which also touched on some of the somehow still-widely-believed myths about medieval personal care and cleanliness. Let’s start with bathing. Medieval people bathed, full stop. Not as frequently as we do, and not in the same ways, but the “people never washed in Ye Olde Dark Ages” chestnut needs to be decidedly consigned to the historical dustbin where it belongs. “A Short History of Bathing Before 1601″ is a good place to start, as it follows the development of bathing culture from ancient Rome (where bathhouses were known for their use as gathering places and influential centers of political debate) through to the modern era. Yes, common people as well as the nobility washed fairly frequently. Bathing was a favored social and leisure activity and a central part of hospitality for guests. Hey, look at all these images in medieval manuscripts of people bathing. Or De balneis Puteolanis, which is basically a thirteenth-century travel guide to the best baths in Italy. Or these medieval Spanish civic codes about when men, women, and Jews were allowed to use the public bath house. There was also, as referenced in the above ask, the practice of washing faces, hands, etc daily, and sometimes more than once. Feasts involved elaborate protocol about who was allowed to perform certain tasks, including bringing in the bowls of scented water to wash between courses. They associated filth with disease (logically). Anyway. Let’s move on.

Combs are some of the oldest (and most common) objects found in medieval graves -- i.e. they were a standard part of the “grave goods” for the deceased, and were highly valued possessions. Look, it’s a young woman combing her hair (that article also discusses the history of medieval makeup for men, which was totally a thing and likewise also suspected of being “unmanly.”) The Luttrell Psalter, now in the British Library, includes among its many illuminations one of a young woman having her hair elaborately combed and styled by an attendant. There were extensive discourses on what constituted an ideally attractive medieval woman, and the study of aesthetics and the nature of beauty is one of the oldest and most central philosophical enquiries in the world (as were beauty standards in antiquity). Having a pale complexion was a sign of wealth (you didn’t have to work outdoors in the sun) and women used all kinds of pastes and powders to achieve that effect. Remember the Trotula, the medieval gynecological textbook we talked about in the childbirth ask? Well, it is actually three texts, and the entire third text, De ornatu mulierum (On Women’s Cosmetics) is dedicated to makeup and cosmetics. What weird and gross sort of things do they advocate, cry editors of “7 Horrifying Medieval Beauty Tips You Won’t Believe!”-style articles? Well...

First come general depilatories for overall care of the skin. Then there are recipes for care of the hair: for making it long and dark, thick and lovely, or soft and fine. For care of the face, there are recipes for removing unwanted hair, whitening the skin, removing blemishes or abscesses, and exfoliating the skin, plus general facial creams. For the lips, there is a special unguent of honey to soften them, plus colorants to dye the lips and gums. For the care of teeth and prevention of bad breath, there are five different recipes. The final chapter is on hygiene of the genitalia. [...] A prescription said to be used by Muslim women then follows.[...] The author gives detailed instructions on how to apply the water just prior to intercourse, together with a powder that the woman is supposed to rub on her chest, breasts, and genitalia. She is also to wash her partner’s genitals with a cloth sprinkled with the same sweet-smelling powder.

Wait so... hair care, skin and facial creams, toothpaste, lipstick, and sexual hygiene?? With the latter based on that used by Muslim women??? Zounds! How strange and unthinkable!

L’ornement des Dames, an Anglo-Norman text of the thirteenth century, offers more tips and tricks, and explicitly references the authority of both the Trotula and Muslim women: “I shall not forget either what I learnt at Messina from a Saracen woman. She was a doctor for the people of her faith [...] according to what I heard from Trotula of Salerno, a woman who does not trust her is a fool.” So yes. The beauty regimes of Muslim women were transmitted to and shared by Christian women, especially in diverse places like medieval Sicily, and this was valuable and trusted advice. Gee. It’s almost like women have always a) cared about their appearance, and b) united to flip one giant middle finger at the patriarchy. (You can also read more about skincare and cosmetics.) Speaking of female health authorities, you have definitely (or you should have) heard of Hildegard von Bingen, a twelfth-century abbess and towering genius who was the trusted advisor of kings and popes and wrote treatises on everything from music to medicine to natural science (she is regarded as the founder of the discipline in Germany). This included the vast Physica, a handbook on health and medicine, and Causae et curae, another medical textbook.

Did the church grumble and gripe about women putting on excessive adornments and being too fixated by makeup and the dangers of vanity and etc etc? You bet they did. Did women ignore the hell out of this and wear makeup and fancy clothes anyway? You bet they damn well did. Also, medieval society was fuckin’ obsessed with fashion (especially in the fourteenth century.) The sumptuary laws, which appeared for the first time in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, regulated which classes of society were allowed to wear what (so that fancy furs and silks and jewels were reserved for the nobility, and less expensive cloth and trimming were the province of the lower classes -- the idea was that you could know someone’s station in life just by looking at them). These were insanely detailed, and went down to regulating the height of someone’s high heels. So yes, theoretically, the stiletto police could stop you in fourteenth-century England, whip out a measuring tape, and see if you were literally too big for your britches.

(”But, but,” you stammer. “Surely they had rotten teeth?” Well, this is probably a bad time to note that in addition to the five toothpaste remedies mentioned in the Trotula, there are even more. Jewish and Muslim natural philosophers and herbalists had all kinds of recommendations -- see Practical Materia Medica of the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean. Also, since there was no processed sugar in their diet, their dentistry was far better than, say, the Elizabethans, and white and regular teeth were highly prized. There would be wear and tear from grist, but since fine-milled white bread was a status symbol, the wealthy could afford to have bread that did not contain it, and thus good teeth.)

Of course, everyone wasn’t just getting dressed up with, so to speak, nowhere to go. What about sex? It never happened unless it was marital rape, right? (/side-eyes a certain unnamed quasi-medieval television show). Oh no. Medieval people loved the shit out of sex. Pastourelles were an immensely popular poetic genre which almost always included the protagonist having a romp with a pretty shepherdess, and anyone who’s read any Chaucer knows how bawdy it can get. Even Chaucer, however, is put to shame by the fabliaux, which are a vast collection of Old French poems that have titles so ribald that I could not say them aloud to an undergraduate class. (”The Ring That Controlled Erections” and “The Peekaboo Priest” are about the tamest that I can think of, but I gotta say I’m fond of “Long Butthole Berengier” and the one called simply “The Fucker,” because literally people are people everywhere and always. And yes, you perverted person, you can read the lot of them here.) This was incredibly explicit and bawdy popular literature that was pretty much exactly medieval porn (and like usual porn, did not exactly serve as any kind of precursor of feminist media or positive female representation, but Misogyny, Take a Shot.)

So yes. Once more (surprise!) the history of cosmetics goes back at least six thousand years, and is one of the oldest aspects of documented social history in the world. It existed broadly and accessibly in the medieval world, where women had other women writing books on it for them, and was just as much as a concern as it is now. People have always liked to look good, smell good, accessorize, dress fashionably, try weird beauty trends, and so forth. So if by some accident you do stumble into a time machine and end up in medieval Europe, you’ll have plenty of choices. Our medieval foremothers, and the men who loved them and thought they were beautiful, thank you for your time.

[typologycentral]

Finding the Gold in the Iron

Making the Inner MarriageAstonishingly, the cat could still move—astonishing because the cat was severed in two. Riveted, I confirmed with my eyes what my bare skin sensed: the ticklish rub of a grey tiger feline walking in figure-eight patterns around my ankles. I was horrified, but she did not appear the least bit agitated. In fact, she seemed to simply want my attention. Back and forth, back and forth she went. The images of the dream began to swirl as I realized that the scene was both real and not real. A feline messenger from my psyche had put me on notice: it was time to tend to the sensual life. As she traced the patterns of infinity, this courageous animal—instinctual and clearly a survivor—was paradoxically revealing both her timelessness and her need of me. Her midsection was cut in profile, so I could easily see her guts, frozen yet not cold. Her pink innards were contained, but there was no vital blood flow; the life force was static. Miraculously, she continued to function, but not in her wholeness. This premier symbol of sensuality and independence was giving voice to a part of me deep within, injured but still alive and seeking healing and union. And she arrived within days of my meeting the man who is now my second husband. I was married for seventeen years to an alcoholic. Our life was not always turbulent. In fact, the searing truth is that I loved him deeply and we shared many happy times. But as my own unquenchable curiosity about the life of my soul took center stage in my consciousness, my former husband turned to liquor to deal with both the shifting dynamics between us and the initiatory call of his own life that he had thus far refused. An acute pain links the awakening soul with the ending of a marriage, for one cannot go back to how things were. When, through a transcendent moment of grace, a light is cast in the depths of the psyche, one cannot un-see what one has seen. I had perfected the twisted art of emotional contortion in my sincere efforts to keep the toxic marriage alive. But life was not having it anymore; it “saved” me in the form of my husband’s infidelity and unthinkable betrayal. Redemption can arrive in the ugliest forms; fairy tales reveal this motif time and again. But the archetypal framing of these events helps me continue to heal, for though my soul is breathing more easily, my ego took a big hit. From a depth psychological perspective, a marriage is not only a dynamic story of two but also a mirror of the innermost soul workings of one, a journey of the disparate parts of one’s self seeking integration, finding their way home. If I have learned anything about marriage it is this: the greatest legacy I can offer my outer marriage is soulful, abiding attention to my inner union. The Caged Panther In discovering the potential of my inferior function, extraverted sensation (Se), I began to strengthen my animus. After the cat dream, my wounded animus showed up again in the form of another magnificent cat: a caged panther. Deep in graduate studies, I read the poem by Rainer Maria Rilke titled “The Panther: In the Jardin des Plantes, Paris”: The passing of the bars fatigues his gaze so much, that it can hold no more. To him, it is as if each bar were a maze that led to another, and another barred door. The quiet pacing of strong and supple limbs that turn around the very smallest sphere is like a dance of power around the rims of circles, that hold a great will numb in there. (Rilke, as cited in Polikoff, p. 310)By the time I read this, though my outer circumstances had greatly improved, I was nevertheless in my nigredo time, that period of chaotic confrontation with one’s darkness and unlived life, which takes as long as it takes. Reflecting back on the end of my first marriage, I knew when the nigredo phase had begun. Lying on my side in bed, in broad daylight, I was staring out the window at the distant mountains, like the panther in his cage, when my husband came striding into the room. He halted, tensing at what he saw, knowing he could no longer avoid the cost of recent revelations of his behavior. He lay down beside me and attempted to put his arm around me. I stiffened, curling tighter into a fetal position. And then from a voice that was not my own came words I had no awareness of speaking: “Something’s dying.” The voice was not referring to the marriage; in effect, it was already over. The voice was also not referring to my drunken husband being pulled over by a cop with another woman in his vehicle while I waited with our children for him to arrive at a Christmas party. The voice came from a place both ancient and familiar, a place that had not made its presence known in quite a while. It was the voice of my soul, announcing ashes and shadow. I was both transfixed and oddly comforted to learn that the great Rilke had endured a similar darkness. Poet and translator Daniel Joseph Polikoff (2011) portrayed a time when Rilke was creatively frozen, disillusioned with the manner in which he had thus far approached his art. A fortunate mentoring by sculptor Auguste Rodin assisted the mercurial Rilke as he embraced an entirely new movement in his work: honoring the dignity of the object. The highly sensate Rodin challenged Rilke to go to the Jardin des Plantes and intensely observe the animals, the “thing” itself. The result was “The Panther”—and an entirely new phase of Rilke’s poetry. While I cannot speak to Rilke’s psychological type, in connecting with the foreign nature of my own Se inferior function, I sensed the tremendous value in this exercise. What seized me the first time I read “The Panther” was, ironically, not the aching, caged containment but the life pacing to break free, the wild current in the spaces between the bars, the electricity beginning to spark deep within my own being: Only seldom does the pupil’s curtain slide Soundlessly up—. Then an image enters, ripples through the tensely stilled stride and ceases where the rhythm centers. (Rilke, as cited in Polikoff, p. 310)I wanted to scream a guttural war cry. It was time to know the agency that had been quietly gathering, and it became increasingly clear I would need the otherworldly assistance of my inferior Se to do so. It seemed the perfect storm was brewing. My awakening animus and my underdeveloped Se were in need of guidance. As synchronicity would have it, I picked up a copy of storyteller and poet Robert Bly’s Iron John: A Book About Men (1990/2004). Though I had read it years before, the folktale’s wisdom leapt off the page anew, feeding a wary, yet hungry sojourner, my neglected animus. In immersing myself in the story of “Iron John,” I discovered that a man needs to both seek his feminine side and form a connection with his wild nature. “Iron John” speaks to the latter. I realized that the folktale held a similar message for me: I was a woman on such a mission. In addressing the classical Jungian definition of animus, analyst and author Clarissa Pinkola Estes (1995) revealed that “the revivifying source in women is not masculine and alien to her, but feminine and familiar” (p. 310), but she nevertheless believes the animus concept to have import. Estes said, Animus can best be understood as a force that assists women in acting in their own behalf in the outer world. Animus helps a woman put forth her specific and feminine inner thoughts and feelings in concrete ways—emotionally, sexually, financially, creatively, and otherwise—rather than in a construct that patterns itself after a culturally imposed standard of masculine development in any given culture. (p. 310)The animus is an essential “bringer and bridger,” said Estes (1995); “he is like a merchant of soul” (p. 310). Thus, an engagement with “Iron John” provides men and women alike the opportunity to relate to a robust animus not often embraced in the culture, an animus in service to the feminine along her path to unity, the ultimate marriage. As I read Bly’s exploration of eight distinct phases of the masculine journey, I readily came to see the stark contrast between the animus models I had historically experienced and the vibrant, engaged animus that could be. And as I continued to digest this remarkable tale, three salient points struck close to home: reclaiming the golden ball, tending the wild garden, and establishing inner sovereignty. As the young boy matured in the story of Iron John, so did my growing animus sensibility. Reclaiming the Golden Ball: The Audacity of Play There was, once upon a time, a King, who had near his castle an enormous forest, in which wild animals of all sorts lived. One day he dispatched a hunter into those woods to take a deer, but the hunter did not return. “Something went wrong out there,” said the King. (“Iron John” cited by Bly, p. 250)From the outset the tale points to the untamed part of the interior life. The king keeps losing hunters in a remote area. Even he is at a loss about how to proceed—until an intrepid young man arrives saying that this is just the sort of adventure he seeks. The man loses his dog to the cause but discovers a wild, hairy man living at the bottom of a lake. After a posse of men drain the lake and capture the savage now referred to as Iron John, the king’s curious eight-year-old son, playing in the palace courtyard, loses his golden ball as it rolls into Iron John’s cage. A conversation begins, and two things are certain: the ball will only be returned when Iron John is set free, and the key to his cage has been deposited under the queen’s pillow. Bly (1990/2004) referenced Jung as saying the psyche likes to make deals. He added, “Conversing with the Wild Man is not talking about bliss or mind or spirit or ‘higher consciousness,’ but about something wet, dark, and low—what James Hillman would call ‘soul’” (p. 9). There comes a time when one has to gather the enterprise to strike out on one’s own, free of the niceties of acculturated parenting, or in regard to type development, the preferred functions. My superior function of introverted intuition (Ni) often “know[s] what is needed or should be done before others start to contemplate the ideas” (Shumate, 2017, p. 8). Additionally, my auxiliary function of extraverted feeling (Fe) helps me to interact with others “so as to accomplish goals that serve the best interests of all concerned” (p. 25). Ni and Fe assisted me as a kid in cluing in to my parents’ and younger brother’s moods, but the shadow aspect of these type gifts is that I was frequently in the adult role. For example, I remember how the kitchen telephone would ring and my mom, jaw clenched and rolling her eyes, would refuse to answer it because she “knew” it was my grandma. Feeling guilty, Mom would then vent to me about her frustrations with her own mother. Even though I was only eight years old, my strong Ni/Fe combination partially understood what my mom was talking about, but these adult exchanges kept me from simply running outside to play. I was often such a good listener, being the Dear Abby for my family, that I think I began to actually mistrust play because there were no familial rewards associated with it. My family did not need me to play; rather they needed me to hear them and provide a sounding board. This reinforced an identity that was rooted in both Ni and Fe, but as one enters adulthood, an exaggerated reliance on the preferred functions is insufficient. Those with Se in the inferior position “may find a creative outlet in artistic endeavors” (Shumate, p. 6), and my inferior function, extraverted sensation (Se), began to emerge when,at midlife, I wanted to give expression to my artistic side. An artist must play in order to create, and must be allowed the space and time to “fail” without worrying about everyone else’s feelings. This is the golden ball I had lost long ago when my eight-year-old self exchanged her sense of autonomy and play for the greater demands of the family’s emotional comfort. Play time still feels indulgent, an activity I should only do when everyone else’s needs are met, which is never. Illustrative of my determination to work my extraverted sensory muscle and revel in pleasure, four years ago at Christmas I ran off to Ireland to marry my second husband, with only my children in tow. My family of origin felt betrayed. During my divorce I had needed their support, and I think they grew accustomed to having me “in the fold” once again. Moreover, my fiancé felt foreign to my rural Wyoming folks. He had backpacked a year in Europe, regularly shouted “Hey, Freaky!” in lieu of “hello,” and proudly declared himself an artist. Marrying abroad was not about my parents, and I felt I had done my part by inviting them to the wedding. Rather, I needed to reclaim my privacy and establish my new family, and neither my husband nor I had ever been to Ireland. Indeed, our intention for launching our life together was to boldly embrace new territory. Entering the Se atmosphere of sensory wonder—amber rays piercing the ancient, black chamber of Newgrange on the Winter Solstice, rosy-cheeked carolers on cobble-stoned Grafton Street, pelting December rain, dark molasses plum pudding—I felt positively victorious. Reclaiming my golden ball fed my imagination. And with my free-spirited spouse leading by example, I began to open up, referring to baristas and other such occasional “strangers” by name, spending over an hour savoring a meal, and playing Mexican train dominoes with my daughter. Ireland was essential to my well being and to my awakening animus that was now in the business of negotiating the choices of a life well-lived for me. Tending the Wild Garden: The Writer’s Life The boy, who really did want his ball back, threw caution to the winds, went into the castle and got the key. The cage door was not easy to open and the boy pinched his finger. When the door stood open, the Wild Man walked through it, gave the boy the golden ball, and hurried away. The boy suddenly felt great fear. He shouted and cried out after him, “Wild Man, if you go away, they will beat me!” The Wild Man wheeled around, lifted the boy onto his shoulders, and walked with brisk steps into the forest. (“Iron John,” as cited in Bly, p. 251)Regarding touchiness and wounding, Marie-Louise von Franz (1971/2006) said, “The inferior function and the sore spot are absolutely connected” (p. 15). The synergy created as a result of the innocent and wild parts of the psyche joining forces is pivotal. In type terminology, both the promise and the unknowns of the fourth function have declared themselves. Even in all the confusion, and while the boy might not be consciously aware of the psychological shift, the wound inflicted by the escape is far less dangerous to the boy at this juncture than his remaining with his parents. Iron John, the wild psyche, has both communicated with and kept his promise to the boy; the lad has suddenly questioned the shelter of the known, and the choice to discover the unknown is made. Iron John tells the boy that though he will never see his mother and father again, he, Iron John, will watch over him and he has more treasure than anyone else in the world. While one does not disregard the other functions when the inferior position awakens, the center of gravity nonetheless shifts. Von Franz (1971/2006) put it this way: “The inferior function is the ever-bleeding wound of the conscious personality, but through it the unconscious can always come in and so enlarge consciousness and bring forth a new attitude” (p. 68). The boy’s world is thoroughly remade. He is growing in agency. Not only has he gone against civilized influences and stolen the key but he has also struck out for wild territory, leaving both parents behind. The psyche requires boldness at times, and Bly (1990/2004) summed it up best when he said, “If a son can’t steal [the key], he doesn’t deserve it” (p. 12). But stealing from the family of origin is often a fraught occasion. Reflecting on the original wound of my own upbringing, I know for certain that re-visioning an empowered view of anger as an agent for relatedness and change is essential. With Fe in my auxiliary position, I rarely present as an angry person, but I feel anger’s raw energy and accept that I have not given voice often enough to its appropriate expression. An example of how rare it was for me to express anger as a child occurred when I was twelve and my younger brother and I were playing with neighborhood kids a few blocks away from our home. My brother’s bike started behaving erratically, and I hopped off my own bike to help out. In seeking to guide the chain back onto the spokes, I caught my finger between the spike and the metal cog. The injury immediately shot into a gushing wound. I yelled, to no one in particular, “Damn!” My brother’s eyes grew round in surprise, and he tore off in the direction of our house to tell our dad I had used a “cuss word.” I couldn’t believe it. If getting my finger caught between a metal chain and spoke wasn’t good enough occasion to curse, I didn’t know what was. But I felt afraid. And sure enough, my dad was mad. Inconceivably, he said he would have understood if I had slipped up and said “damn” with a group of friends, “But to say such a word in anger… ,” he emphasized, trailing off, not finishing his sentence. I was speechless. His argument made no sense to me. But I was powerless at that age to challenge the belief that what I had done was wrong. This early model of animus lodged itself deep within my psyche, coloring my actions and reactions for years. Predominantly, I could tell that my dad was uncomfortable with the energy that cursing signaled: How could kind little Lori have another side? We like her better the other way. But I also internalized that it was not okay to crack the façade of the respectable family. Both of my parents had risen from poverty, and our family was to look and behave differently: We were always to appear happy. I grew to despise the fakeness of this setup, but I had to keep my emotion under wraps. Not until I was in high school do I remember turning on my dad with what felt to me like verbal poison. My mother was out of town, and I needed to cook dinner for my dad and brother. Lost in my own thoughts about homework and all I needed to accomplish before school the next morning—I was a straight-A student, of course—my dad interrupted my inner dialogue and asked, “What’s wrong? You seem a bit pensive.” Those few words were all it took. I remember where I was standing and where he was sitting. I wheeled around and shouted, “You know what I envy about the Koch family? They might be poor, but at least they’re allowed to have a bad day and get mad at each other!” I had been wanting to scream that since the bike incident, and now it was out. An incredulous look from my father over my reaction to his innocuous question might have been in order, but he just stared back at me. He didn’t move. He didn’t retort. Some part of him knew I was addressing unfinished business. We dropped the conversation, thankfully, because I was loaded for bear had he pressed. It takes a while to get skillful with anger, and if one is never allowed to express it, the dark trickster nature is one option for its release. I look now with overdue compassion at my “choice” in a first husband. Perhaps it wasn’t a choice at all. Perhaps I had to marry a man about to explode, a man who would unleash wreckage and public humiliation so I could start to understand the hidden value in chaos. In a sense, my original wound drove me deeper into a situation that would ultimately demand I confront my first husband’s betrayal, which was my second, profound wound. I was strong enough to face it by then, and without a doubt this dark face of the trickster continues to evolve. Realizing I have a choice in how I wield my anger is liberating. My animus is a good guide. He is teaching me the wisdom of giving creative expression to anger first and when the occasion calls for it, speaking directly and without apology. Archetypal psychologist Keiron LeGrice (2016) illuminated the conscious animus when he stated, A developed animus is only possible after one has made conscious and critically examined the ideas, beliefs, and opinions by which one lives and which one espouses and unconsciously entertains. When the animus is consciously differentiated from the ego, it can function as a principle of creativity and critical authority, fostering an independence of spirit and strength of ideas. (p. 56)Ironically, my relationship with my dad is better for the “old king” energy being dead. My difficult trickster has emerged as wickedly funny numerous times. My dad and I laugh. I use swear words (worse than “damn”), and we laugh some more. My dad rarely curses; he still finds it uncomfortable. But he almost seems proud that I can and do. Like the young man in the tale, I learned to trust my own wildness. By uniting the preferences of my dominant Ni with the growing capacity of my Se, my approach to my writing career began to honor my own pace and style. For instance, I like to work earlier in the day, with good strong coffee, and then let my intuition take over the writing as I tend to my family and home. In particular, my Ni works keenly during sleep. My husband is precisely the opposite. Both his vocation and his art require him to work with his hands, an Se trait I greatly admire, and he much prefers to follow his inspiration into the night. The point is, in maturity, after much weeding and tending to wild shoots, one eventually finds one’s way and enjoys the nature of it, allowing others to do the same. Establishing Sovereignty: Finding the Warrior Within “You will receive that, and more than you have asked for as well.” The Wild Man turned then and went back into the woods, and not long afterwards, a stableboy came out of the trees leading a war-horse that blew air through its nostrils and was not easy to hold in. Running along after the horse came a large band of warriors, entirely clothed in iron, with their swords shining in the sun. … The boy and his iron band rode there at full speed, galloped on the enemy like a hurricane, and struck down every one that opposed them. (“Iron John,” as cited in Bly, p. 256)The young man has reached the moment when his warrior nature awakens. War has come to the land, but when he requests a horse in order to join the impending battle, he is laughed off by the other men and given a lame nag. Yet he will not be deterred. The young man is now self-possessed enough to ask something of life, to call out to Iron John for help. Psychologically, not only is the young man in the folktale in a time with no father, but he is also coming in to a relationship with a new king. Bly (1990/2004) referred to this as a shift from the earthly father to finding one’s inner sovereignty: “The process of bringing the inner King back to life, when looked at inwardly, begins with attention to tiny desires—catching hints of what one really likes” (p. 112). “Tiny desires” ultimately lead to the discovery of a phoenix rising. My experience shows that the inner warrior sneaks up in unexpected moments. In illustration, my teenage son recently needed to finish an algebra test before school. I had an early engagement as well, which I had warned him about due to the fact that I was providing his ride. He slept in. Poked around. Yawned. One of us was going to be late. I felt a palpable, mounting tension in my own being: Should I “save” him because his grade was no doubt going to be affected this late in the semester, or should I honor the sanity of my own schedule? I chose the latter. My son was incredulous: “Mom! You can’t make me walk from here! I’m going to be late for Ms. King. This is important!” “Yes, I know. Good luck creating a miracle for yourself,” I replied, grinning. My comment was absent of snark. I genuinely meant it. Feeling triumphant, I noticed the spring air swirling in through the open car windows, exploding with lilac scent (which my Se relished). I had just experienced my sword-wielding animus. He had stepped forward in good humor and made a choice that released both my son and me to our deeper resources. The school sent a letter home the following week indicating that my son would likely need to attend summer school for algebra. Like a boy possessed, my son sprang into action. He contacted his eighth-grade math teacher and started meeting with her at Perkins for pie and study sessions. In three weeks’ time, he had raised his algebra grade by ten percentage points; he passed with a solid C. I had to respect his moxie. Shumate (2017) described a person in command of a healthy extraverted thinking (Te) function as one who “may assume a can-do attitude that makes difficult tasks seem feasible” (p. 18). Te occupies my trickster position, but whereas I once relied on subterfuge to achieve an end, I am changing this weaker pattern through conscious engagement with my animus. As I demonstrated to my son, Te in the trickster position can also “replace old rules with new ones and persuade others to comply” (Shumate, p. 20). The war horse is a vibrant example of what an evolved trickster can produce, what an awakened, battle-savvy animus can accomplish. According to Shumate (2017), Beebe has proposed that the inferior function can only be integrated if we have first accessed the trickster function (p. 39). When I became aware of my trickster capacity, my Te and Se joined forces with each other and the outcome was not only an exhilarating departure from my comfort zone but also a strategic strike from the psyche’s wisdom. The emergence of play and creativity in my life, as well as the reclaiming of appropriate anger, has greatly assisted me in getting out of my own way. In the words of analyst and author Marion Woodman (1998), We must first awaken to our needs, feelings and values. Then the masculine can grow up and say: I shall stand up for these needs, these feelings, these values. I shall put them out there in the world, I shall work with you in all your creativity. (p. 154)The inner union is, indeed, the work of a lifetime. But to establish inner sovereignty, to both intimately know and rely upon such an electric, healing force is fine incentive to keep going. I have a father, a husband, a son; I wish to understand them better. And I have an inner king guiding the ways in which I will skillfully command my creative work in the world. At present, Sly, my three-year-old cat nudges against my hip. My children brought Sly and his brother Cola home as orphaned kittens. Being a dog person until the cats’ arrival, I find them to be funny and unexpected. Cola is the silvery color of the severed cat in my long-ago dream, and Sly is, both in spirit and color, a miniature black panther, decidedly uncaged. Beebe (2004) referenced the developed superior and inferior functions as establishing a “spine of consciousness” (p. 92). The psyche not only revealed my once severed condition but also the means by which I could re-fuse: discerning, deciding, and reclaiming on my own terms. Beebe (n.d.) once explained his spine metaphor in an interview with author James Arraj: This definition of the spine is a very real thing. … That sense of self we all have is along that mysterious axis between what we are best at and what we are worst at, which is the spine of our personality, and there is our uprightness, there is our integrity. Another way of saying this metaphorically and analogically is that a personality needs to drop anchor.I marvel at the daily reminders I have in the wiry playfulness displayed by Cola and Sly. But the most moving realization is the knowing that while I seek the inner marriage, it is also seeking me. --- References: Beebe, J. (2004). Understanding consciousness through the theory of psychological types. In J. Cambray & L. Carter (Eds.), Analytical psychology: Contemporary perspectives in Jungian analysis (pp. 83-115). Hove, UK: Brunner-Routledge. Beebe, J. (n.d.). A Jungian analyst talks about psychological types (James Arraj, Interviewer) [Audio file]. Retrieved from http://www.innerexplorations.com/catpsy/a.htm Bly, R. (2004). Iron John: A book about men (2nd ed.). Cambridge: De Capo Press. (Original work published 1990) Estes, C.P. (1995). Women who run with the wolves: Myths and stories of the wild woman archetype. New York: Ballantine Books. Keen, S. (1991). Fire in the belly: On being a man. New York: Bantam Books. LeGrice, K. (2016). Archetypal reflections: Insights and ideas from Jungian psychology. New York: Muswell Hill Press. Polikoff, D. J. (2011). In the image of Orpheus: Rilke—a soul history. Wilmette, IL: Chiron. Shumate, C. (2017). The function-archetype decoder. Jung’s eightfold way (forthcoming). Adapted with permission from McAlpine, R., Shumate, C., Evers, A., & Hughey, D., The function-archetype decoder [software program], 2009; Louisville, KY: Type Resources. von Franz, M.-L. (1995). Shadow and evil in fairy tales (2nd ed., Rev.). Boston: Shambhala. von Franz, M.-L. (2006). The inferior function. In M.-L. von Franz & J. Hillman, Lectures on Jung’s typology (3rd ed.). Putnam, CT: Spring Publications, Inc. (Original work published in 1971). Woodman, M., & Mellick, J. (1998). Coming home to myself: Daily reflections for a woman’s body and soul. Berkeley, CA: Conari Press. Images: Chagall, M. (1910). Woman with a bouquet. Retrieved from wikiart.org Duchamp, M. (1911). Yvonne and Magdalene torn in tatters. Retrieved from wikiart.org Filonov, P. (1910). Heads. Retrieved from wikiart.org Gauguin, P. (1893). Here we make love. Retrieved from wikiart.org Kustodiev, B. (1918). The merchant’s wife at tea. Retrieved from wikiart.org Maar, D. (1930). Double portrait. Retrieved from wikiart.org Man Ray (1922). Rayograph (the kiss). Retrieved from wikiart.org Seeley, G. (1907). Firefly. Retrieved from wikiart.org The post Finding the Gold in the Iron appeared first on Personality Type in Depth. RSS Feed - Link To Personality Type In Depth Article https://www.typologycentral.com/forums/showthread.php?t=96889&goto=newpost&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

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TO TURN THE PAGES of Spill is to watch the invisible become flesh from the language of humming, longing, living, and dying. Drawing from the deep aquifers of the work of Hortense Spillers, American literary critic and Black feminist scholar Alexis Pauline Gumbs’s poetry is an overflow and offering of Black voice. It is a voice mostly for Black women that illuminates a world critically and lovingly restored with dimension and structure by the work of Hortense Spillers. Characterized by intermittent rhyming, a perspective that is at once fluid yet rooted in the language of the body and the usage of space and citations, Gumbs weaves narratives of hope, desperation, and knowing into one sharp longing. It is a “poetilitical praxis,” an unflinching look at what pain has wrought and what fruit might yet be born.

A queer Black troublemaker, a Black feminist love evangelist, and a prayer poet priestess, Alexis Pauline Gumbs holds a PhD in English, African and African-American Studies, and Women and Gender Studies from Duke University. Her scholarship spans the Audre Lorde Papers at Spelman College, the June Jordan Papers at Harvard University, and the Lucille Clifton Papers at Emory University. Alexis is a public intellectual and essayist on topics from the abolition of marriage to the power of dreams to the genius of enslaved African ancestors.

  Alexis is the visiting Winton Chair in the Liberal Arts at University of Minnesota. Her conversation about Spill can be found at Left of Black, and more about her work can be found at alexispauline.com. The second book in the series, M Archive: After the End of the World, comes out in a few weeks.

Alexis makes time for me right after a dentist appointment, so that’s where we begin.

¤

JOY KMT: How are you?

ALEXIS PAULINE GUMBS: Doing well. I didn’t engage in full-scale battle against the dentist and dental assistant, which I used to do when I was a kid. I guess meditation works. Because of how I don’t really get numb from anesthesia and how I am in the throes of grieving my father, I have been thinking a lot about Lucille Clifton’s poem “water sign woman.” I have a Cancer rising sign. She talks about the “feels everything woman.” That’s me.
 

I am sorry to hear of your father’s passing. I have a moon in Pisces, so I understand the “feels everything woman.”

Yeah. I miss him so much. He was actually one of the first people to read Spill.

What was his reaction?

My dad was a big cheerleader for me, so of course he was like, “It’s groundbreaking, it’s stunning, it’s going to take the world by storm.” But that’s what he said about everything I did so …

It’s true, though.

My dad would say, “Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean I’m not right.”

How would you say general reactions have been to Spill?

The reactions have been really humbling. People have written beautiful letters and emails about how the work is impacting their healing, their relationships, their creativity, and their lives. And it’s been a wide range of people from other scholars and poets, people in my neighborhood, and dance classes. I wanted it to be a space for all my communities of accountability to be together, and it seems like it’s working.

Over and over again people have told me that the scenes are out of their own lives and the lives of the people they love. And when I share the book, I use it as an oracle. I ask people to think of a question and then a number and I read them a page and it seems like the book is able to speak to their lives and get all into their business. Long story short, a lot of people are looking at me like I’m a witch. And they aren’t really wrong.

I’m really struck by the tenderness with which you were able to render scenes, even when they were scenes of deep antipathy — “she loved the soft blue ocean of wishing he would die,” for instance. Why and how did you frame those very devastating scenes like you did?

The one thing that was present for me every moment of writing the book and that I hope is present in every moment of the book is love for Black women as Black women above everything, despite everything. So in a moment like that scene where this woman is trying to use all the gentleness and servility she has been taught to destroy, the person she sees as her oppressor, abuser, exploiter, love is still there. Her love for herself is there. Even if it can only be expressed in her desire to be free from the situation.

I think that no matter what we are going through, and even if we are not in a so-called “empowered” or “positive” space, mood, or situation, love is there. My study of Black women as a Black woman has taught me that. Love is always there. Always. Even when it seems completely impossible that it would be.

You start the book and each chapter with the definition and synonyms of spill — the title of your book. It seems both an homage to Spillers and a declaration of defiance. What is the container that you intend to overflow in this book?

Yes, I definitely think of this book as a celebration of the fact that Black women have not been contained, even though our blood has been spilled over and over again (including internal bleeding). I also think of the book as a libation to honor our ancestors and begin a ceremony that doesn’t end in the book. You have to use it every day. So I think the container has many names. Heteropatriarchal capitalism? Colonialism? The Western idea of the individual life?
 In the next book (coming out in March!), I write about the Black Feminist Pragmatic Intergenerational Sphere, which is just of way of referencing what Audre Lorde said in “My Words Will Be There,” which is that who we are is beyond the limits (or container) of one lifetime. But most explicitly what I designed the book to defy was the oppressive interlocking set of narratives that entrap Black women every day.

What kind of ceremony do you see springing to life from this work?

For me it is the opening part, the libation, of a three-part work. A triptych. This is the part that opens the way for ancestral honoring and healing. The second part, “M Archive: After the End of the World,” is about long visioning about what the material evidence will be of this apocalypse we are going through. And then the third part is actually what I am writing right now. It’s called “DUB: Finding Ceremony.” Which is another way of saying yes, this is an oracle. And what’s cool is that it still functions as an oracle for me, even though I’ve read it more than a hundred times.
 And the other thing I love is that other people are using it as an oracle. A few weeks ago a healer was doing tarot readings paired with pages from Spill on Facebook. I was like, “Wow! Draw one for me!” And it was right on point! So the primary ceremony I think Spill calls for is for Black women, all of us by the way, cis and trans, to recognize ourselves, each other, our ancestors and what we’ve been through. And to recognize the love and life-making that has also been there the whole time and is still there. And the secondary ceremony is for everyone who doesn’t identify as a Black woman to also understand that their healing is bound up with ours too.

How would you describe Spill in terms of genre and intent?

I think of the pieces on each page as scenes. I think of the book as a whole as a poem (#epic) and I think of every scene as poetic. And I think of it as an index and an oracle and a meditation. My intention is for the technologies of Black women poets, fiction writers, hip-hop artists, priestesses, singers, mamas, fugitives, stylists, and literary theorists to converge in the same space. Sylvia Wynter says, “After humanism — the ceremony must be found,” and I wanted to find a ceremony where we could be together, and where I could be with the revolutionary work of Hortense Spillers and with everyone else I love at the same time. Finding ceremony is a poetic act. So it is poetry.

I think you’ve partially answered this, but as a multidisciplinary artist and Black feminist scholar, what was the impetus for this book at this point in your career and life?

Right, I thought about what my intellectual writing would look like. And I thought about the people whose work has impacted me the most. I thought about Audre Lorde, June Jordan, Alexis De Veaux, and Barbara Smith and how none of them wrote “novels,” even though the novel was the most marketable form of writing available to them. My dissertation is about the poetics of survival and mothering in the work of those four geniuses and I think about them at all time. I thought about other academic theorists I cite the most: Hortense Spillers, M. Jacqui Alexander, and Sylvia Wynter, and how, to date, none of them have published a traditional scholarly monograph. They have all these essays collected (or in the case of Wynter uncollected) that change everything.

And so with that in mind I decided that building on the work that I have done to create spaces for my communities of accountability to be with the Black feminist creative and movement writers that I love, I also wanted to have creative space to be with my communities in the worlds created by the Black feminist theorists I love. Also though, it wasn’t a decision like how capitalism and individualism and Western education teach us to think about decisions.

When I decided to do the daily writing process that resulted in Spill, I didn’t really have thoughts about who would publish it, or if it would be published at all. I just knew it was what I should do. 
And I’m actually still doing it. First thing every single day. And I am as surprised as anyone by what it looks like. But what I’m not surprised about is that it is infused with love for Black women in every moment. Because that’s the one decision I keep making by continuing to be alive. To love Black women (myself included) with everything I have, every day. That’s what my life is.

At the end of Spill you seem to shift to a longer and broader timeline, moving from individual intimacies to a more collective oracular vehicle, sort of in the vein of Ayi Kwei Armah. Also, throughout the text, rhyme, space, and sound tend to shift the movement of the text at will. What was your decision-making process like behind the movement of the text or what guided the movement?

What a generous comparison! Yes, that’s true. The end of the book is more explicitly collective and intergenerational. The way the scenes appear in the book isn’t the order I wrote them in. It was a conscious decision I made when I was ordering the manuscript to move from the intimacy of the first scenes to the collectivity of the last scenes. And maybe because that’s how my day goes. I wake up very early in the morning to be with myself. And then my partner and I intentionally come together, and then it’s later in the day usually that I’m actually in community. And the way that rhyme and rhythm work in the text … to me it’s a poetics of fugitivity. The sound of being on the run, compelled, but sometimes being able to stop and be with people, stop and be with self, stop and reflect, but then you are on the run again. 

Can you speak more to the poetics of fugitivity and fugitivity discourse?

Sure, so Harriet Tubman and Phillis Wheatley get explicit shout-outs in Spill. And they were both enslaved women who in completely different ways spilled out of and upset the container of gendered and racialized slavery.

Fugitivity for me, for us now living in what Saidiya Hartman calls “the afterlife of slavery,” means that we are still entrapped by the gendering and racializing traps that made slavery possible. But we exceed it. We stay in love with our own freedom. We make refuge for each other. How do we do it? With our movement, with our braveness, with our leaving, with our words, almost always with food involved. So the scenes in Spill are scenes of Black Feminist Fugitivity because for me they all feature a desire to be free and the urgent impossible-to-ignore presence of the ongoing obstacles to our freedom. It’s making me think of my teacher, my cherished intellectual mother Farah Jasmine Griffin’s book on Billie Holiday, If You Can’t Be Free, Be a Mystery. Our navigation of freedom requires so much creativity, and the work of saying it while also hiding it. That’s a fugitive poetics.

I wanted to ask you personally, why did you include a thank you to me in the book?

Oh girl! Because you completely inspire me in general! But also specifically because when I was writing that scene after Spillers’s words “a question that we cannot politely ask,” I immediately thought of your work and the confrontational, epistemic liberating questioning you do in your poetry. And also your refusal to be limited by the “polite.” How you say, “they say we are strong but they really mean silent.” It’s exactly what I am talking about in Spill. Reading your work while I wrote Spill had a crucial impact on me and I had to acknowledge that.

Reading Spill was deeply nourishing for me. It took me back to my secret life. I think the unwavering radical love that you offer in this book helped peel back my shame. So thank you so much for the opportunity to read and the opportunity to explore with you.

Wow, I am so grateful for that. That’s the ceremony of Spill, I think, to give us space to acknowledge all of it.

How is the eclipse treating you?

The eclipse is amazing! We put candles all over the house and were drumming and dancing.

Yeah? My house is a mess, so I was playing Alice Coltrane and cleaning and went outside to watch the eclipse.

Super powerful and profound energy. Yeah, change is coming; you can feel it.

It’s a potent time to be talking. I appreciate you taking time out your day.

[Laughs.] I appreciate you. They’ll speak about it in legend — “On the day of the eclipse, the Nat Turner eclipse, Joy KMT and Alexis Pauline Gumbs spoke about the healing qualities of literature.”— When we’re really old, they’ll speak about it like this. [Laughs.]

What have you been thinking about Spill?

I just did this reading with an amazing poet named Cynthia Dewi Oka, and Cheryl Boyce-Taylor, who is an amazing poet, student of Audre Lorde, mother of Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest and Afro-Trinidadian genius, author of many books of poetry, and another person, Raquel Salas Rivera. It was really interesting because a lot of the poems in Cheryl’s newest book of poems, Arrival, are thinking about her family and ritual, and a lot if it is in Trinidadian English, and Raquel’s poems are all in Spanish, and she translates some of them into English; Raquel is a Puerto Rican poet. So I was thinking about, “What is the vernacular of Spill?”

When Black women talk to me about feeling like, “Oh my gosh, I feel like you wrote this just for me,” what makes it feel that way to other people? What’s recognizable? I think some of the vernaculars of Spill have to do with food and cleaning and domestic rituals and domestic work, hair braiding and grooming. I think there’s a lot of tactile language. Language of touch.

I realize that I’m always thinking about Black women and I love Black women, and obviously I was engaging with a Black feminist theorist the whole time I was writing it. But I think what makes it effective, intimate, ritual space for me and for other Black women does have to do with familiar forms of care that are in the book. Even if it’s for a slaver, which it sometimes is, or if it’s considered to be surplus labor, that work that we do to keep other Black people alive, that is not sanctioned by the state.

You asked me, before the interview, about the relationship between Fred Moten’s work and mine. Well, Fred was on my dissertation committee. But before I even met Fred, Fred Moten’s work, In the Break in particular, had me thinking about how powerful Black maternity is. And how scary it is, you know, to everyone in the world who is threatened by that power. And yet, how revolutionary it is to honor it for what it is. That’s actually one of the things that I love about your work. What happens if we understand everything in the world, all of the systems of oppression that target and seek to harm Black women and Black mothers especially. What if we see all of that as proof of and as a response to the amazing power that is Black mothering and that is the Dark Feminine? What does it mean if we acknowledge that? I would say that that’s the primary connection between the work that I’m doing in Spill and the work Moten is doing there. And it’s not a coincidence that that would be the connection because they both come through Spillers.

That’s the thing about Spillers’s work, that has me coming back to it forever and ever and ever ever. It’s the basis for how he develops that theory of Black maternity, also.

Well, I know we jumped right back into the interview, but I wanted to ask you, how have you been?

I’ve been good. I know last time we talked, I had just come back from the dentist and was talking about my dad. I still think about him every day. I was just thinking this morning about the fact that my dad was an amazing friend to me. I never thought about that until literally this morning. About the fact that, “Ah, I was actually friends with this person.” And I feel really grateful for that. That was a really powerful definition of our relationship. And what if I never realized that? I feel like the reason it took me so long to realize that is patriarchy. My dad did not play the patriarchal role, but there is something about the Black longing for patriarchy that’s deep. It’s something that I think is super toxic, hateful, and ridiculous and illogical.

Hortense Spillers writes about this as well in her essay, “‘The Permanent Obliquity of an In(pha)llibly Straight’: In the Time of Daughters and the Fathers.” There’s no such thing. There’s no Black patriarchy, there’s not gon’ be no patriarchy, there’s really no such thing as fathers and daughters in relationship to what Black life has meant. The essay looks at a short story by Alice Walker and the strange incest story that the guy in Invisible Man tells. It talks about these stories as examples of how ownership, the way a father owns a daughter in patriarchy, is not Black relationality and is sick and disgusting to begin with. And that these stories basically offer how absurd that is but also how harmful the desire for that is. And as usual — this is what I love about Hortense Spillers so much — in conclusion, Black people are inventing a whole different type of life. Basically we’re doing a whole other thing that makes all these other things possible. At least for me, that’s the queerness with which I read Spillers’s work. It’s like okay, if there’s no such thing as Black fathers and daughters, then what are Black relationships built on? Black social life and Black community? If we know we cannot own anything, even our bodies and even our loved ones, then what is our relationality made of? It’s not made out of property, but we’ve been made into property.

What does she say relationships are made out of?

Let me go ahead and open the book. So I don’t misquote, but basically she talks about our relationships being built on choice, our relationships being built on shared ritual practice, our relationships being built on creativity, creativity that can’t be necessarily owned. So that’s a general paraphrasing. Of course the way she says it is going to be beautiful and incredible and impossible to paraphrase, but …

Would you say that interpretation of Spillers’s work is the foundation for how you approach Spill? And also, it’s funny that we started on this path of conversation, because one of my questions is: What do you see as the relationship between Black masculinity and Black femininity in Spill?

That’s a good question. And yeah, it’s very much framed by those questions. And you know, that essay is not an essay that I cite in Spill, but I got back into that essay — it has always been one of my favorite essays of hers — trying to process my grief around my father and not wanting my grieving process to be shaped by patriarchy. So I actually ended up writing some other scenes that are not in Spill, that have a similar process based on quotations from that essay, and some scenes that are based on Sylvia Wynter’s work, which is what the third book is.

Is that M or the next work?

It’s the next work, called Dub, Finding Ceremony. But this piece in feminist formations is me processing around my father and it cites this essay and it cites ethno and socio poetics, by Sylvia Wynter. I think it’s coming out soon because they just paid me for it today. I think it’s coming out today. Who knows? Sorry, I have you on speaker phone and I’m climbing my book shelves looking for this book.

It’s okay.

Yeah, but the relationship between masculinity and femininity, I mean I think one of the things I was present to, especially in the section, “what he was thinking” was just the violence of masculinity. A lot of the violence that the feminine figures in the book are fugitives from is masculinist energy, but it’s also the predictable result of the imposition of masculinity. I felt like those were scenes that made it visible in a particular way, and there is a scene in there where I’m very much thinking about Invisible Man, that scene where a young man is seeing his mother being disrespected over and over again by a paternal figure. The imposition of masculinity, especially in terms of Black social life, has been profoundly destructive. And Black femininity has been in fugitivity from that in a particular way. I think that might be one way that it shows up in Spill. But then, I think that there’s a lot of different possibilities. Some of the scenes around Black masculinity and femininity in conflict, I’m definitely drawing on Alice Walker’s work, I’m definitely drawing on Zora Neale Hurston’s work, I’m definitely drawing on — I think about Their Eyes Were Watching God, and I think about masculinity in Jamie’s life as something that comes through the scenes in Spill. I think about “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker, and the ending of the book is definitely an offering in reverence to that story.

So yeah, I would say that the relationship between masculinity and femininity and the work in Spill is a relationship that is also — the masculinity and the femininity of the people in the book are fugitive from patriarchy. It’s also fugitive from binary. It really is trying to escape that. So part of what Spill is about is how sometimes you don’t escape something until it’s impossible to ignore how violent it is. And at the same time, whatever the revelation is within that violence is what is making it possible for something else to happen beyond that binary. Beyond what patriarchy has made masculinity and femininity. So you know I think about that in the way that Toni Cade Bambara talks about in “On the Issue of Roles,” which is definitely another influence on Spill. But I think actually the relationship between masculinity and femininity in Spill is as complicated as the relationship between the relationship between masculinity and femininity in Black women’s writing. As we know, at the very outset of what literary historiographers call Black women’s writing renaissance, when Ntozake Shange and Alice Walker and Toni Morrison had these widely deep texts that were centered on the experiences of Black women, that were probably the most widely acceptable that texts about Black women that had ever been, by Black women, immediately the pushback was around the portrayal of Black men. That it was unfair to show the forms of violence that Black women experience. It hasn’t stopped, as we know. That’s the archive that I am soaked in, that spilled out in Spill. And at the same time, like how June Jordan writes about Zora Neale Hurston’s work in contrast to Richard Wright’s work, saying whereas Black masculinist impulse in protest literature is like, “ F you white man!” and this is why we need to destroy this terrible racist society — which June Jordan definitely agreed with — but if you look at Zora Neale Hurston as your model for what Black literature is, you see the relationship between Black people invested in within the work of Black women. I wouldn’t make a gender binary around that either. But what she’s saying is if you look at Zora Neale Hurston as our model, that’s what we are going to have again and again. We’re going to see that the revelations, the complexity and the nuance is really in relationships between Black people, and what about that as an argument for the world that we want to create. Not only relationships between Black people and white people. So I would say Spill is that too, saying that there is something to be learned in the gendered relations of Black people that is key, core, really primary. And it’s learned. And if healed, would absolutely change everything. Who is considered family? What Spillers is saying is that, Black family is based on who preserved life and the calling for life. Who creates kinship? It’s not going to be based on patriarchal traceability and lineage. Because people have been sold away and are being dispersed over and over again and displaced. Revolutionary mothering is the way that I think about it. Who is participating in the preservation of life? That’s the vernacular of Spill. If you go back to what I said in the beginning, that’s what’s happening. Cooking is happening. Cleaning is happening. Hair is being done. You know, all of that is happening. People are being warmed.

I’m such a baby trying to get into this Spillers. But I appreciate the challenge of her work.

It is complicated, what Spillers is saying, and it’s almost impossible to say. Given the language and structures and thought that we have all been trained into, how deeply her work unsettles those it’s almost impossible for her to say what she’s saying. And at the same time, it’s really simple but it only requires the small thing of forgetting everything you know. For me, that’s the poetic imperative. Every poet is saying things that’re unsettling and making possible ceremonies for something to be said, that couldn’t be said otherwise.

I wanna talk about craft with you a little bit. What, in your writing, signaled to you the evocation of ceremony? What are the components of language that create ceremony?

The first scene in Spill, the person tried every possible ceremony they knew about and it’s still as bad as it looks. They had candle, they had the food in the corners, all of it. The ceremonies that had been known up till then were not sufficient to the reality and in a certain way had to either be what offered that clarity or be left behind. And similarly, making the greens, that ceremony changes. The way that person makes the greens changes throughout that scene. There’s something important about that, that the ceremony that they started with and the ceremony that’s available is asking for something else to be created. So how does that happen? Writing can be like a wormhole, a nonlinear path to a space from where one started. That’s the fugitive technology.

For me, the repetition of rhyme is the fugitivity. The arrival at the urgency that’s asking for your own revelation. Fugitivity for me is like, okay, so we have this flight and we’re compelled and propelled and the momentum of the pieces of Spill is evoking that through the rhythm. What does that embodied experience give and demand? It demands ceremony in a particular way. Fugitivity demands many ceremonies. One of the things I talk about in the beginning note is, “we have to create the space now we gotta leave.” The rhythm shapes that movement.

The other thing I would say is listening. The major skill that I had to develop to be present for this work was to listen. Hearing different people read them, I can tell that it is what I heard when I hear people read the scenes at performances. That’s important because the words are there or the punctuation that we have access to, and you know I’m doing weird stuff with punctuation, it’s not a given that it would sound like what I heard when somebody brings their own voice to it, but I still hear the rhythm that I heard. It means that rhythm holds the possibility for that ceremony. The shifts in the rhythm signify the shifts in the ceremony. I think that’s how it shows up in the language. That’s the language that gets you to get into the rhythm that makes this possible.

It’s not to say that the language is a signifier or that you could substitute any word as long as it had the syllables, I’m not saying that at all, what the language references is also important, domestically ceremonial and creating and providing intimacy and access in really important ways. The actual content of the language is what has my neighbor be able to be like, “Oh, this makes me think about my mom and my aunt.” But at the same time there is something rhythmically happening, and it was transformative for me to be able to experience those rhythms in the process of making this work.

You said you were listening. What were you listening to?

I needed to hear the phrase. I had written down the phrases [from Spillers’s work] and I would open up the notebook that had the phrases outside of their context, and I would work with the one my eyes fell on. Then I would cross it out after I worked with it. I was distilling it in that way because I had to look at the phrase and not then go, well here’s what she meant by that. Here’s what I think about it. I had to not let my brain fill the space. I had to leave a space and listen to where the phrase took me. Who is this? What is the scene? Where? As I was hearing it and writing it and seeing it, the rhythms were very different. Sometimes there was a breathlessness at the end of writing it. Sometimes I would reread it and be like woo! Sometimes the experience was like um-hm. Sometimes it was a feeling of being transported and traveling back into my actual life. Who has the actual expertise to tell this actual story is who I had to listen to, and understand that I’m in relationship to who that is through my intimacy with Black women’s writing, and that legacy of listening. Listening to storytellers and also listening beyond, listening to the silence of a room, that those writers have been doing. And realizing that it was all there. Like if I had been a lot more quiet a lot earlier in life I would have heard this before. And it was these phrases of Hortense Spillers that could get me to have the level of stillness and listening to hear whatever it was. It was the technology for it.

I wanted to ask you about your next work, M. I got the sense from the description that it seems to build on Sylvia Wynter’s discourse on humanism. Can you talk a bit about M and the connection between Spill and M?

First of all, Sylvia Wynter is always there. I first heard about Sylvia Wynter from Brent Edwards. I went to this summer thing at Dartmouth and I had this one conversation with Brent Edwards who was a speaker. He mentioned ethno and socio poetics by Sylvia Wynter — and this is the deep generosity of Black scholars without which I could not participate in intellectual life in the way that I do — he mailed me a photocopy of this essay. That was very important because it was only published in the journal of this conference in 1979, so it wasn’t very accessible. The context of this essay is that the conference seemed like it was for anthropologists who were interested in poetics, like do certain poetics come from certain ethnicities, preserving indigenous language and poetics but in a super colonialist way, so I don’t even know why they invited Sylvia Wynter to this conference unless there was some subversive person that wanted them there. In this essay, Sylvia Wynter breaks down the entire invention of what you think a human is. She’s like, let me go through the medieval times, the sense of God, Robinson Crusoe, and basically she’s breaking down all of Western civilization to say that there is no ethnopoetics, there is no ethno — there is no us, because what you all have done is to create a them and then said that hat them has no language. So this entire project that you think you’re doing, you can’t. You’re not. But, there’s such a thing as Black poetry, and there’s such a thing as Indigenous poetry. It’s not along the lines of ethnicity that you are thinking about. It is the possibility of being able what is impossible to say. For me, that was a very important moment in my life because I was like, “That is what we’re doing!” Yes. Yes. It is the impossible daily work. Black artists and Indigenous artists in particular, we’re using these languages that are literally what makes it impossible to say what we gotta say, do what we gotta do, be with each other, be here. From then on I was like I have to read everything by Sylvia Wynter. She’s saying, none of this stuff is natural, none of this stuff is permanent, so we can think of some other stuff and do it and the sooner the better because this particular train of thought is destroying everything. So back to the question. M, the citations from that work come from M. Jacqui Alexander’s Pedagogies of Crossing, so it’s a similar process that I did for Spill but a completely different set of essays that took me to totally different places and post-apocalyptic futures. One of the things about this future is that the perspective is from someone who is archiving the material evidence of the end of humans. But that does not mean that there are no beings, or no beings related to those of us who are the current humans or not humans based on anti-Blackness. But it does mean that that category has expired. And it may actually mean that we all die. There are multiple possibilities in the text, but it does imagine what is after the human, and Sylvia Wynter says that after the human the ceremony must be found. So what are the material components of that post-human ceremony? What are the memories, what are the practices, what are the rituals that constitute that? And how would someone describe it who could see it as history? And definitely, there’s nothing that I’ve written before I read Sylvia Wynter and definitely after I read Sylvia Wynter that’s not in conversation with Sylvia Wynter. Not a tweet. Everything is in conversation with Sylvia Wynter in some way.

So, final question: What’s your recollection of how we met?

From my perspective, it was like the hugest gift that you came to DC from Pittsburgh and were like, “Hello, I heard you were doing oracle readings, I’m here to open the oracle.” The way I got to DC, the Smithsonian Folklife Festival had a special thing they were doing about Black adornment called “The Will to Adorn,” inspired by how Zora Neale Hurston talks about Black adornment. They asked me to come, and I don’t know what they thought I was going to do but what I knew there was to do was to create this wearable oracle created on a daily basis out of Black feminist texts. I remember what was going on in your life but I don’t remember what your question was. I remember you talking about Oshun and the cinnamon and cleaning the new space you were in and the artist grant you had just gotten. I’m just really inspired by you and your life, and how you understand everything to be a part of your creative practice, like the ants and how you dealt with the ants by putting cinnamon down. And you know I’ve never stopped reading your work and I’ve never not been blown away by the brilliance, the honesty, and the rituals that you create in your community. I just feel like we have the same religion.

Yes, I feel similarly. I feel like much of my work is in conversation with your work. Did anybody ever tell you that talking to you is like talking to a nourishing whirlwind?

[Laughs.] No, but I like that though. I should put that in my bio. I like that! I identify with that. I know it’s a lot. I know I’m all over the place, but I’m glad it’s nourishing. I’m glad it’s clear that it is all love. That’s all it can be.

¤

Joy KMT is a healer, poet, and ritual artist. She is the founder of the Tabernacle of Immaculate Perception.

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