Catelyn (book discussion includes HBO spoilers)
So I want to discuss somethings that have happened in the book but have NOT happened (yet) on the HBO version of Game of Thrones... so please don't read beyond the cut if you don't want to be spoiled big time for the TV version:
I had heard from shadowkat67 that some co-workers of hers didn't realize that Catelyn died in the Red Wedding, which led me to think that they were just inattentive readers, until I found out this morning at water aerobics that my friend Sue was similarly confused! And I know that Sue is a very careful reader... so how is this possible?!
The Red Wedding is told from Catelyn's POV and she clearly sees her son Robb beheaded, but at the end of her chapter all we get is:
"Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold."
So there is room for doubt?
Certainly her family (those who still live) are told of her death... but we've been told lies before (people are reported dead who still live).
For me the definitive explanation was in Arya's chapter starting on page 888 of the 3rd book, 'A Storm of Swords'. Arya falls asleep and dreams the experiences of her direwolf, Nymeria:
"... and then she could smell her. The scent was faint beneath the other smells, beneath moss and mud and water, and the stench of rotting reeds and rotting men. She padded slowly through the soft ground to the river's edge, lapped up a drink, then lifted her head to sniff. The sky was grey and thick with cloud, the river green and full of floating things. Dead men clogged the shallows, some still moving as the water pushed them, others washed up on the banks. Her brothers and sisters swarmed around them, tearing at the rich ripe flesh.
"The crows were there too, screaming at the wolves and filling the air with feathers. Their blood was hotter, and one of her sisters had snapped at one as it took flight and caught it by the wing. It made her want a crow herself. She wanted to taste the blood, to hear the bones crunch between her teeth, to fill her belly with warm flesh instead of cold. She was hungry and the meat was all around, but she knew she could not eat.
"The scent was stronger now. She pricked her ears up and listened to the grumbles of her pack, the shriek of angry crows, the whirr of wings and sound of running water. Somewhere far off she could hear horses and calls of living men, but there were not what mattered. Only the scent mattered. She sniffed the air again. There it was, and now she saw it too, something pale and white drifting down the river, turning where it brushed against a snag. The reeds bowed down before it.
"She splashed noisily through the shallows and threw herself into the deeper water, her legs churning. The current was strong but she was stronger. She swam, following her nose. The river smells were rich and wet, but those were not the smells that pulled her. She paddled after the sharp red whisper of cold blood, the sweet cloying stench of death. She cased them as she often chased a red deer through the trees, and in the end she ran them down, and her jaw closed around a pale white arm. She shook it to make it move, but there was only death and blood in her mouth. By now she was tiring, and it was all she could do to pull the body back to shore. As she dragged it up the muddy bank, one of her little brothers came prowling, his tongue lolling from his mouth. She had to snarl to drive him off, or else he would have fed. Only then did she stop to shake the water from her fur. The white thing lay face-down in the mud, her dead flesh wrinkled and pale, cold blood trickling from her throat. Rise, she thought. Rise and eat and run with us.
"The sound of horses turned her head. Men. They were coming from downwind, so she had not smelled them, but now there were almost here. Men on horses, with flapping black and yellow and pink wings and long shiny claws in hand. Some of her younger brothers bared their teeth to defend the food they'd found, but she snapped at them until they scattered. That was the way of the wild. Deer and hares and crows fled before wolves, and wolves fled from men. She abandoned the cold white prize in the mud where she had dragged it, and ran, and felt no shame.
"When morning came, the Hound did not need to shout at Arya or shake her awake. She had woken before him for a change, and even watered the horses. They broke their fast in silence, until Sandor said, "This thing about your mother..."
" "It doesn't matter, " Arya said in a dull voice. "I know she's dead. I saw her in a dream." "
So I took this as gospel, now I also believe that someone saw her corpse, naked and dead in the river... was that Jaime? I'll try to find it.
So when Brienne later sees (and is almost hung by) Catelyn, I was certain it was an undead version of Ned's widow. Not that she had somehow survived the Red Wedding.
I had heard from shadowkat67 that some co-workers of hers didn't realize that Catelyn died in the Red Wedding, which led me to think that they were just inattentive readers, until I found out this morning at water aerobics that my friend Sue was similarly confused! And I know that Sue is a very careful reader... so how is this possible?!
The Red Wedding is told from Catelyn's POV and she clearly sees her son Robb beheaded, but at the end of her chapter all we get is:
"Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold."
So there is room for doubt?
Certainly her family (those who still live) are told of her death... but we've been told lies before (people are reported dead who still live).
For me the definitive explanation was in Arya's chapter starting on page 888 of the 3rd book, 'A Storm of Swords'. Arya falls asleep and dreams the experiences of her direwolf, Nymeria:
"... and then she could smell her. The scent was faint beneath the other smells, beneath moss and mud and water, and the stench of rotting reeds and rotting men. She padded slowly through the soft ground to the river's edge, lapped up a drink, then lifted her head to sniff. The sky was grey and thick with cloud, the river green and full of floating things. Dead men clogged the shallows, some still moving as the water pushed them, others washed up on the banks. Her brothers and sisters swarmed around them, tearing at the rich ripe flesh.
"The crows were there too, screaming at the wolves and filling the air with feathers. Their blood was hotter, and one of her sisters had snapped at one as it took flight and caught it by the wing. It made her want a crow herself. She wanted to taste the blood, to hear the bones crunch between her teeth, to fill her belly with warm flesh instead of cold. She was hungry and the meat was all around, but she knew she could not eat.
"The scent was stronger now. She pricked her ears up and listened to the grumbles of her pack, the shriek of angry crows, the whirr of wings and sound of running water. Somewhere far off she could hear horses and calls of living men, but there were not what mattered. Only the scent mattered. She sniffed the air again. There it was, and now she saw it too, something pale and white drifting down the river, turning where it brushed against a snag. The reeds bowed down before it.
"She splashed noisily through the shallows and threw herself into the deeper water, her legs churning. The current was strong but she was stronger. She swam, following her nose. The river smells were rich and wet, but those were not the smells that pulled her. She paddled after the sharp red whisper of cold blood, the sweet cloying stench of death. She cased them as she often chased a red deer through the trees, and in the end she ran them down, and her jaw closed around a pale white arm. She shook it to make it move, but there was only death and blood in her mouth. By now she was tiring, and it was all she could do to pull the body back to shore. As she dragged it up the muddy bank, one of her little brothers came prowling, his tongue lolling from his mouth. She had to snarl to drive him off, or else he would have fed. Only then did she stop to shake the water from her fur. The white thing lay face-down in the mud, her dead flesh wrinkled and pale, cold blood trickling from her throat. Rise, she thought. Rise and eat and run with us.
"The sound of horses turned her head. Men. They were coming from downwind, so she had not smelled them, but now there were almost here. Men on horses, with flapping black and yellow and pink wings and long shiny claws in hand. Some of her younger brothers bared their teeth to defend the food they'd found, but she snapped at them until they scattered. That was the way of the wild. Deer and hares and crows fled before wolves, and wolves fled from men. She abandoned the cold white prize in the mud where she had dragged it, and ran, and felt no shame.
"When morning came, the Hound did not need to shout at Arya or shake her awake. She had woken before him for a change, and even watered the horses. They broke their fast in silence, until Sandor said, "This thing about your mother..."
" "It doesn't matter, " Arya said in a dull voice. "I know she's dead. I saw her in a dream." "
So I took this as gospel, now I also believe that someone saw her corpse, naked and dead in the river... was that Jaime? I'll try to find it.
So when Brienne later sees (and is almost hung by) Catelyn, I was certain it was an undead version of Ned's widow. Not that she had somehow survived the Red Wedding.