I’m supposed to be writing on a book but I can’t stop thinking about the Game of Thrones finale last night. The finale itself wasn’t particularly memorable, but the mere fact that the show’s over feels weighty; there’s a void that forms out of the knowledge that something that captured the imaginations of so many people — for a decade — is finally over. Forever.
Myself, I only joined the party a few months ago. The wife and I binged the series pretty intently until we caught up to present time a few episodes into Season 8. And yet, it feels like the end of an era. It’s difficult to explain why a TV show seems to matter, as it were, but I’m writing here anyway in the name of catharsis. Since last night I’ve been in the odd position of wanting to read everything I can about the show, but not wanting to read anyone’s bitching. That didn’t leave much.
This is nothing against bitching, of which there’s been a considerable about in Season 8 (and 7…and maybe 6). If you watch the show and have the internet, you know what I’m talking about. To be clear, I’m not criticizing criticism in general or even Game of Thrones criticism. Much of what’s been levied this season has been roundly earned, and anyone close to me will confirm I whined about a particular narrative arc in the penultimate episode until the proverbial cows came home. But for the finale it was different. I wanted to turn it off. I knew there would be complaining opportunities abound — because the table was set for that long ago, and it’s basically impossible to wrap up such a vast, ambitious, and successful story in a pleasing manner, and oh by the way, remind me of the last Season 8 of any show that was really awesome — but for the last episode, I decided I didn’t care. I just wanted to enjoy it.
And enjoy it I did. I think they put a wrap on things fairly well, and I tip my hat to the storytellers for going to the lengths they did to give the viewers closure on their favorite characters. The missteps were laughably grotesque, but at this point, who gives a shit? The finality of one of the greatest shows in the history of television occupied much more of my headspace than any potential nitpicking.
The momentum swung somewhere along the line from unilateral fan gushing (“OMG have you seen Game of Thrones?? SO AMAZING”) to criticism about what was wrong (which is totally understandable) and how they should’ve done it, instead (which is mostly arrogant and unfathomably clueless). There was a petition to rewrite and reshoot the entire season. This, for perhaps the most successful television show of all time, and definitely the biggest since M*A*S*H.
The last few weeks my mind kept landing on that old quote:
There has never been a statue erected to honor a critic.
A timeless sentiment that is undeniably true and, at least in my case, also isn’t meant to discount the value of criticism. I think it’s a useful tool — necessary, even — and my spirit is in fact more bent toward criticism than most, I believe. It’s what makes me a dick sometimes. Point is, I just decided to ignore that part of me last night, and it felt really, really good.
In my most basic moods, I tend to respond to the groupthink-y tidal wave of marauding criticism of this show the same way Louis CK did about cell phones: you make one, then. Let’s see how good it is. But now, the morning after it’s over, I’m starting to think that’s actually the proper response, but earnestly rather than sarcastically. Hopefully anyone who enjoyed this show is inspired by it, and finds a way to chase the storytelling greatness they witnessed over many years, somehow in their own lives.
That’s what I’m going to do, anyway. It’s been said that there are two noble pursuits: those that keep us alive and those that make life worth living. I’ve never been much good at the first, but have devoted a lot of my time in the last ten years to the second, in some minuscule way. And I’m going to keep doing that. Because it’s who I am, and — apologies if this is slightly gag-worthy but it’s the truth — it’s what I feel like I’m supposed to do. And it’s nice to be reminded of what’s possible.
P.S. I picked the image above because it was hands-down my favorite scene from the finale. Character, to me, is the most important part of any story, and at the core of character is relationship. There was something subtly brilliant about the relationship between Jaime and Brienne, and I can’t imagine a better cap on it than what we saw. I’ll think about that for a while.