Grit, Realism, and the Message of Game of Thrones

The Song of Ice and Fire franchise (both books and TV show) has a definite appeal. It creates a rich fantastic pseudo-medieval world. While Martin has claimed it strives for “gritty realism” and rampant misogyny, violence, and sexual assault have been justified by “realism,” it is an inescapable truth that the franchise is not realistic. Both the books and the TV show opens with spirits of winter murdering wildlings, and then members of the night’s watch (as then reanimating the corpses). Dragons were used to conquer and unite Westeros. Summer and winter are much longer and more variable in length than the seasons of Earth, and can go on for years and years. People return from the dead, and yet, misogyny, sexual assault, and gratuitous violence are included for the sake of “realism.” While I disagree that the “grit” of Game of Thrones needs to be so sensationalized to be “realistic,” and have some doubts as to the “realism” in the first place, I believe there is a reason for Game of Throne’s grit.

Martin said that he wants fantasy with more “grit,” as he admits that it is fantasy, an argument for “realism” would hardly apply. However, the work is cynical and explores human depravity, especially as it ascertains to power. People who seek power much sacrifice morality, if they are to be successful, and even then, power is unfulfilling, and perilous to maintain. To me, the fantastic backdrop to a tale of political intrigue, posits that even if you can change everything else, you can’t change human nature, and human nature is far from unambiguously good. In the books at least (having only seen the one episode of the show, I can’t speak for it), most characters have clear motivations that drive them, sometimes to do terrible things. The book narrates from all sides of the conflict, and makes it clear that there isn’t an unambiguously good side, and even good sides that could easily be natural allies fail to make peace or find common ground. People stick to principles even when in the wrong, or abandon them when in the right. I believe it’s a commentary on humanity and is very much applicable to the present. In our modern world-view, violence is thought to be a more accepted method of resolving political disputes in the Middle Ages than today, allowing the dark and violent aspect of humanity George Martin wants to portray to be more easily accessible.

An Argument for the Use of Fantasy in The Two Towers

In Monday night’s discussion there was, for the most part, a general agreement that the Two Towers is a better film and story than some of the other movies we watched in the last few weeks, like First Knight and King Arthur. I’d like to argue that one of the reasons that is the case is the element of fantasy throughout Tolkien’s work, and within Peter Jackson’s portrayal of The Two Towers.

We determined Monday night that The Two Towers, while it is not placed in a real historical setting, contains many medieval elements within the fictional world of Middle Earth. From what I’ve observed throughout this class, medievalisms seem to be most effective in a fantastical setting, where the constraints and biases of history don’t get in the way of the themes that writers and directors try to convey. I thought The Buried Giant, for example, was very successful in creating a commentary on war crimes and memory through using the magical elements of the mist and the dragon that caused it within an Arthurian setting. The magic in this instance made the abstract and difficult concept of the memory of war crimes in a recovering society more tangible and believable than it would be in some real-life situations.

First Knight and King Arthur eliminated the magical elements of the Arthurian legends in an attempt to make the stories more believable and accessible. In my opinion though, the opposite is the case.  By putting the story in an historical setting and trying to incorporate realism, historical anachronisms get in the way of the medieval themes and their purposes. In that sense the medievalisms in The Two Towers are more believable than in First Knight and King Arthur, as the question of historical accuracy is irrelevant within a fictional world.

Magic and fantasy allow for a complex story without the barriers of historical settings. An audience is more likely to consider environmental destruction, for instance, when trees can walk, talk, and fight. The same is true for some of the movie’s more medieval elements, like Anglo-Saxon influences in depictions of camaraderie and loyalty throughout The Two Towers. Pritha Kundu describes in her article “The Anglo-Saxon War Culture and The Lord of the Rings” how Sam and Frodo’s relationship is similar to Wiglaf and Beowulf’s homosocial bond in Beowulf. Kundu mentions how Sam’s willingness to physically carry the ring for Frodo later in The Lord of the Rings proves Sam’s moral heroism. I would also say that the magical element of the ring’s emotional burden on Frodo further shows the less tangible support that Sam offers him–the emotional support and bond of loyalty and friendship. Thus the element of fantasy within The Two Towers and other works containing medievalisms is an effective tool in conveying layers of meaning. To remove fantasy, like in King Arthur and First Knight, also removes an element that makes the works more accessible for its audience.  

King Arthur’s “Realism”

Throughout the film King Arthur, we are led to believe that this may be a more “realistic” retelling of the story. Many of the mystical and magical aspects of the story are not present in the movie. Yet many historical inaccuracies exist as well. This begs the question: was the movie trying to be a more realistic version of the story of King Arthur or simply a different take on a well known story?

The answer I believe is a mix of the two. Magical events are often convenient ways of moving a story forward, but they are not very convincing. Pulling a sword from a “magical stone” was the focal point of many of the other versions of King Arthur. King Arthur the movie remedies those parts of the tale by ignoring them or not putting much emphasis on them. At the same time, realism is suspended in the movie for the sake of entertainment. Armor piercing crossbows and large longbow battle formations were not the way Romans or Saxons fought their battles. Roman “knights” were not present in their empire, at least not in the way the Knights of the round table were portrayed in the movie.

A more realistic representation of how a Roman soldier would look

What does this all mean for King Arthur as a movie? Its attempt at a different version of the classic tale shows an interesting version of Arthur as a man who is just like everyone else. He overcomes his trials through determination and faith instead of divine intervention (as he said in the movie, God was supposed to take his life, not the lives of his men) or magic. The viewer only needs to accept in this version that some of the historical information is not entirely accurate for the setting. Whatever take the creators of the movie were going for, they had considerable freedom because of the lack of real information on King Arthur as a person.

Modern Jousting: Fantasy? History? or Both?

Any medieval fair would be incomplete without a jousting tournament. From the  Medieval Times restaurant chain, to the Minnesota Renaissance Fair, jousting serves as the center piece of the event. On the surface these jousts appear to be one of the most inauthentic parts of our practice of the medieval; the jousts are carefully staged and the armor is much more for show than for practicality. This joust at a renaissance festival has two knights wearing armor from different eras of the Middle Ages, one with a great helm, and the other with the bascinet. However these anachronisms may create an atmosphere  that is more authentic to the spirit of the late medieval joust than attempts to create a more realistic joust. 

One attempt that comes to mind to create a “real” joust was the History Channel’s “Full Metal Jousting.” The show had competitors wear identical protective  suits of armor and compete in no hold barred jousting. The show never took of and I suspect the reason for this was a lack of medieval essence. There was no chivalry, no fanfare,  no courtly love, no sense of nobility amateur medievalists are used to seeing. It did not matter if the jousts themselves were real, the atmosphere surrounding the show did not match many observers imagined understanding of the medieval joust. 

Actual medieval jousts combined the realness of the History Channel’s “Full Metal Jousting,” with the fun and fanfare of the jousts of the typical Renaissance fair. The first medieval jousts were little more than melees geared at training knights for wars. Even as the sport became more refined, the militant and deadly side of the sport remained; Henry II’s death in a tournament is an excellent example of the sheer brutality that occurred in a joust.(1) However the real violence of the joust did not take away from the chivalrous atmosphere present in a medieval tournament. Knights such as  Ulrich von Leichtenstein would joust for the honor of his lover, wearing an image of Venus on his helmet.(2) 

While medieval jousting was certainly more dangerous than the stages jousts of the Renaissance fairs, the ideals espoused in both events are remarkably similar. If medievalism is truly, “fantasy built on fantasy” than the medieval joust is the perfect subject matter for modern enthusiasts to recreate. Jousts allowed medieval knights and nobles to espouse ideals that were fantasies themselves. One could not wear fancy armor mirroring Venus the goddess of love in battle, but a joust gave medieval knights the space to do so. So while the staged jousts at the Minnesota Renaissance Fair are not as dangerous as their real predecessors, they still provide an air of authenticity more than many other events at the fair.

Elitism in Experiential Medievalism

Is it wrong to be an elitist with your fantasy? I’m not asking that as a rhetorical question. How inclusive should we be in applying the umbrella term “medieval” to a work of fiction or interactive pretend? I ask because this week I’ve read an excerpt from a book using a falsified old english voice in the name of giving a feel of historic authenticity before heading to a “renaissance fair” in which I could look to my left to see a man dressed as batman’s the Joker and to my right to see another man in a black kimono sporting a Japanese katana (Yes I know the katana was a weapon employed often in medieval Japan, but it still seemed topographically out of place if not necessarily temporally). These ironies combined with our conversations in class yesterday suggest that historical accuracy, even a minimal standard of accuracy, is by no means a requirement or even necessarily a desirable trait in modern medievalism. It’s not about looking authentic, no. It’s about expressing your “true self”, about escapism, about realizing your interpretation of the middle ages. And the actual history of the period is superfluous. Yet this runs counter to what we are often told about historical fantasy. It should always feel “realistic”, we should strive to be historically accurate in the name of realism, nobody will want to read the book if you don’t make it sound like a dejected medieval Scotsman raving over a campfire. Conventional wisdom says that realism and historical accuracy are worthy goals in fantasy concerning historic periods like the middle ages because they lessen the burden on our suspension of disbelief, thus allowing the fantasy to be more easily simulated in our imaginations. Naturally there need to be concessions and compromises. No one will want to visit a Ren Festival where people are working as peasants or thralls constantly at risk from plague or warfare. Educational as that might be it wouldn’t be fun. Too much realism and you render your imagination sterile and bound by historical fact. But can we live without it? Realism is what allows us to look past the overlong hotdog lines and contemporary political commentary seeded in the jousting announcements at the renaissance fair. Without it, the imagination isn’t left free. Rather the whole illusion upon which the imagination is supposed to work collapses. So naturally we should employ some form of elitism in judging whether or not something fits into a medievalist fantasy. Surely we should be allowed to have standards and to say “No, you can’t have a steampunk stand at a renaissance fair, that doesn’t make sense. It ruins the illusion for everyone else.” Yet in denying the steampunk stand in the name of illusion we also run the risk of denying the transexual dressed in elaborate pink knight armor or the lesbian couple dressed as “wenches” or the man simply wearing an eighteenth century tri-corner hat, perhaps because that’s all he had to wear and he wanted to be one of the costume wearers. Realist elitism in contemporary medievalism is both a necessity and a danger. So should we make use of it? Should we be elitists in our engagement with the medieval world? Write your thoughts in the comments.