Medieval Women & Modern Politics: A Cultural Analysis of Female Political Ambition, Agency, and Power in HBO’s Game of Thrones and the American Political System Allison Hufford Class of 2021 English Honors Thesis Dartmouth College Advised by Professor James Dobson 26 May 2021 1 Table of Contents Acknowledgements………………………………………………………………… 3 Introduction……………………………………………………………………….. 4 Chapter I…………………………………………………………………………. 11 Fantastically Medieval Chapter II………………………………………………………………………... 46 Winning Kinship Chapter III……………………………………………………………………….. 92 A Woman’s Place (in the Oval Office and on the Iron Throne) Works Cited…………………………………………………………………….. 150 2 Acknowledgements First and foremost, I’d like to give my sincerest thanks to my brilliant advisor, Professor James Dobson, without whom this project would not have been possible. This thesis has been my most intense academic challenge to date, and Dobson’s guidance, passion, and encouragement have been absolutely vital throughout the entire writing process. Furthermore, I’d like to thank my friends and family for their consistent love and support, my siblings for re-watching all sixty- plus hours of Game of Thrones alongside me, and my parents for graciously paying for my HBO Max subscription. I’m aware that this thesis has been all that I’ve spoken about for the past five months, and I dearly appreciate everyone who’s been listening. 3 Introduction HBO’s Game of Thrones, one of the largest cultural phenomena of the past decade, is a critically-acclaimed, fantasy-drama television series that has found an unprecedented international following in the eight years and eight seasons that it has been available for viewing. The gritty realism and political complexity of its storyline have often been cited (by reviewers and critics alike) as basis for its popularity, but the cultural impact of its expansive cast of three- dimension female characters cannot be overlooked. In introducing greater gender diversity into epic fantasy—previously an almost exclusively male genre—the show has undoubtedly made history, achieving extraordinary popularity on a global scale. Yet Game of Thrones didn’t do it alone: the show, created by David Benioff and D. B. Weiss, stands on the shoulders of George R.R. Martin’s wildly successful (yet presently unfinished) novel series, A Song of Ice and Fire. The first book of the series was published in 1996, and the most recent in 2011—season one of Game of Thrones premiered that same year, with the final episode airing in May 2019. So, to begin, I must address what I imagine is the primary question of my readership: why bother writing about the television show at all, especially when so much of it stems from other (more literary) source material? There are a number of answers to this, the simplest being that both George R. R. Martin’s novel series and the HBO adaptation are worth serious academic discussion due to the significant cultural work that each performs, but that the innate and fundamental differences of these two objects means that an analysis of either might result in a very distinct conclusion than might be garnered from the other. For one, the books and the show were produced in undeniably separate temporal moments—much has changed since the 1990s and 2000s, both in our world and in our fiction. The last decade, over which the eight seasons of Game of Thrones have steadily unfurled, has marked numerous cultural changes in both our 4 social and political reality, especially in regards to racial and gender relationships; thus, the pressures of representation faced by our works of popular media have been greatly heightened. There’s also an undeniable difference in Game of Thrones’ added visual element, perhaps at the expense of the incredible level of detail provided by the novels but to the definite benefit of the numerous cinematic modes of storytelling made available, and viewers have flocked to the extraordinary visuals rendered in big-budget CGI. The show has thus garnered a much wider and more international audience than a fantasy novel series, and the HBO viewership no doubt reaches a somewhat different (and likely more diverse) demographic than Martin’s dedicated readership. This international demographic has spurred the show’s immense cultural uptake, resulting in a huge amount of fan discourse surrounding the show across various media platforms and making it a highly compelling object for multi-cultural examination. Unlike the books, the show was also—to some extent—able to respond to viewer comments even as it was being produced, for the particular production cycle of television allows for the active incorporation of feedback, and in this case even resulted in a few humorous nods towards the dialogue within internet fan communities.1 This provides two levels of cultural engagement, greatly complicating and enriching the relationship between the creative object and its viewership. Ultimately, the show and the books are both fascinating sources of analysis, but as a completed work the show does offer itself to a more exhaustive evaluation of its ultimate messaging, whereas much remains to be seen regarding the thematic direction of Martin’s series. These differences in the temporal, visual, and cultural context of both works have also spurred differences in the material—most notable being the ‘aging up’ of the central child 1 Alaina Urquhart-White, “'Game Of Thrones' Made A Gendry Rowing Joke, Breaking The Fourth Wall In A Big Way” (Bustle, August 14, 2017), https://www.bustle.com/p/game-of- thrones-made-a-gendry-rowing-joke-breaking-the-fourth-wall-in-a-big-way-76319. 5 characters. Take, for instance, the three female characters of Sansa Stark, Daenerys Targaryen, and Margaery Tyrell. In the first books, Sansa is eleven, Daenerys is thirteen, and Margaery is sixteen—but in season one and two, the show portrays them at around the ages of thirteen, sixteen, and twenty-one respectively, and this age-gap is further enhanced by the fact that the actors who played these characters were typically several years older themselves.2 These differences are small yet significant, especially considering the blatant sexual content in both the show and book revolving around these child characters. Daenerys’ marriage to the warlord Drogo, for example, is evidently more disturbing when imaging her as a thirteen-year-old girl than the twenty-four-year-old Emilia Clarke, though the show somewhat tries to compensate for this reduction of disturbance through an enhancement in other aspects of the tragedy; in the novels, Daenerys is seduced by Drogo on her wedding night—with at least some suggestion of consent, despite the horrifying pedophilic connotations—but in the show, she is blatantly and repeatedly raped. Similarly, television-Sansa may be older when she is exposed to repeated psychological traumas, but in the book it is a side character (her friend Jeyne Poole) who is married off to the psychotic and abusive Ramsey Bolton, while in the show it is Sansa herself. This culminates in an on-screen rape which greatly shapes the remainder of her character arc. Thus, in aging up so many of its central characters, the show diminishes some of the horrors of the narrative while purposefully amplifying others. And, notably, it’s through these sexual traumas in which the most political aspects of these female characters often spring—in a Beauty and the Beast-esque narrative, Daenerys must flip the power dynamics of her relationship by turning rape into feminine seduction, acquiring skills which eventually allow her to challenge 2 No doubt largely due to filming constraints when working with child actors, but also because of the public outrage some of Martin’s more dubious narrative decisions might’ve provoked when rendered fully on-screen. 6 the power dynamics of entire societies. And in the final season, Sansa reflects back on her own troubled past with the highly controversial comment, “Without [my abusers], I’d have stayed a little bird all my life,” essentially crediting her years of mistreatment for her eventual development into a formidable political force.3 These changes, subtle as they sometimes are, greatly impact the overall messaging of the storyline (for better or for worse), and perhaps also indicate the differing cultural moments to which these two texts are consciously or unconsciously responding. Martin’s female characters are little girls forced to grow up all too soon, while Benioff’s and Weiss’s (especially in latter seasons) are young women actively grappling for bodily autonomy within unbearable circumstances. In this thesis, I investigate the ways in which HBO’s Game of Thrones, with its early- modern “medievalist” setting and roots in epic fantasy, provides the resources for thinking about progressive feminist politics in our modern age. Although the way Game of Thrones handles it female characters has been heavily critiqued—both lauded and decried—over the eight seasons of its run, little existing criticism explores the wider implications of these narrative choices, nor their reflection in our modern society and especially within contemporary American politics. I seek to contribute to the existing scholarly conversation by evaluating the specific handling of female agency and ambition within the show and the ways this handling reflects and refines our cultural dialogue surrounding female political figures. Throughout my thesis, I explore Game of Thrones as a product of American culture in our contemporary moment, examine its female characters and narrative arcs in regards to feminist theories of power, and consider why viewers 3 Game of Thrones, season 7, episode 4, “The Spoils of War,” created by David Benioff and D. B. Weiss, aired August 6th, 2017, on HBO. 7 and critics alike might come away feeling ambivalent about its depictions of political womanhood. In my first chapter, I examine the historic and fantasy setting of the show, and the way in which this narrative context defines the roles of gender and sexuality within the fictional society of Westeros.