Love the Venture Bros cartoon but afraid of missing the myriad of historical references and layers of meaning behind each episode? Join pop culture and history experts Elana Levin and Steven Attewell (whose secret identity is that he’s an actual historian) for our Podcast examining each episode of Season 6 of this hit Adult Swim show. This episode is about Season 6 Episode 4: “Rapacity In Blue”.…
Well, they did. Remember, even before Robert dies, there’s a de-facto Stark/Tully vs. Lannister alliance, and Renly (and by extension the Tyrells) tries to do a deal with Eddard.
I think there might be a missing negative there, but I’m not sure so I’ll answer both ways. I think people did care – it’s definitely one of the reasons why Reny engaged in diplomacy with the Starks and why Davos and Cressen were urging Stannis to the do the same.
At the same time, some people – like Balon Greyjoy – clearly didn’t care and were basing their opinions more based on pre-war status quo.
“The Lord of Casterly Rock made such an impressive figure that it was a shock when his destrier dropped a load of dung right at the base of the throne.” Synopsis: the Battle of Blackwater is over, so it’s time to spit up the goods. Tywin is back as Hand of the King, Mace Tyrell is on the Small Council, Loras Tyrell is on the Kingsguard, and Margaery Tyrell is Joffrey’s new betrothed. And Sansa…
On demand: iTunes ¦ Sound Cloud ¦ Stitcher Love the Venture Bros cartoon but afraid of missing the myriad of historical references and layers of meaning behind each…
The Ummayads had the advantage of having absorbed the highly efficient Byzantine administrative system when they conquered Egypt and Palestine and Syria, and the also quite good bureaucracy of the Persians when they took Persia. Also, the east had historically been much much richer than the west, so they had more GDP per capita to tax from.
Well, arguably Essos has a repressed majority…ya know, the slaves. Who worship a monotheistic god and await a liberator figure chosen by their god to bring the slavemasters low.
As is no surprise to anyone who read Week 2’s issue, Claremont X-Men is a huge touchstone for me, one of the few comics runs I re-read annually. However, it took a while for Clarmont’s X-Men to feel like X-Men. Issues #94 and #95 focus on Count Nefaria, who’s really more an Avengers villain than a X-Men villain.[1] Issue #96 gives us the demonic N’Garai, and while I love the Cthulhu references, it feels a bit like Claremont borrowed them from a Doctor Strange spec script.
Where it really starts to feel like X-Men is issue #98 (April 1976), where the Sentinels return and ruin the X-Men’s Christmas in order to abduct them to Stephen Lang’s space base. To begin with, the Sentinels are one of the only explicitly and specifically anti-mutant threats that the original X-Men fought, so a lot of the mutant metaphor is grounded in those wonderful purple and pink Kirby robots. And Claremont sharpens the analysis by having these genocidal robots be built by a racist lunatic working within the U.S military (which is something that the U.S Army-aficionado Stan Lee wouldn’t have allowed back in the day), giving added emphasis to the “world that hates and fears them” part of the X-Men’s story that was largely lacking in the original 93 issues:
Second, the Sentinel attack sets up the disastrous space shuttle landing that turned Jean Grey into the Phoenix, the first example of Chris Claremont’s epic long-form storytelling that will define the X-Men for 18 years.
But the other reason that this issue stuck with me is that, far more than anything in the original X-Men’s run, this issue made the X-Men feel like a part of New York City. The issue opens with the X-Men at the ice-skating rink at Rockefeller Center on Christmas Eve, which is a little touristy, but before the sentinels attack on page X, we get to see the X-Men out on the town:
And critically, the town is there for more than window-dressing. A lot of ink has been spilled in the years since Fantastic Four #1 about how Marvel’s decision to have their comics be located in New York City made it a more realistic shared universe, how it reflected a generation of post-WWII second generation immigrant/“white ethnic” artists and writers, and so on.
In this panel, however, we can also see that it also created a keyhole through which real-world politics could enter. Claremont’s word balloons set the scene of New York as a place grappling with “default and layoffs and garbage and politicians who couldn’t care less” – referring to New York City’s fiscal crisis that brought the city to the brink of bankruptcy in 1975 and led to the layoffs of tens of thousands of city workers, an eleven-day garbage strike that took place in December of 1975 and led to “70,000 tons of trash, most of it lining mid-Manhattan curbs in piles as high as six feet,” and Mayor Abe Beame, the hapless and hated mayor whose one term included both the 1975 fiscal crisis and the 1977 blackout and who was the model for the hated mayor who can’t set foot outdoors without getting booed in The Taking of Pelham 123.
These are the worries that the X-Men are trying to put out of their minds with a night on the town, and by extension it implies that one of the real daily annoyances that New Yorkers had to deal with in the 1970s – along with the 1973-1975 recession, the oil crisis, and skyrocketing inflation – was Sentinel attacks in Midtown. In fact, we know that these were real problems for New Yorkers because Issue #98 shows us that Jack Kirby and Stan Lee exist within their own Marvel universe and have run into the X-Men[2]:
In turn, it also suggests that the same real-world problems facing the X-Men are also some of the problems facing Marvel Comics in the 1970s. And indeed, if you’ve read Sean Howe’s excellent Marvel Comics: The Inside Story, you know that one of the big 70s issues that affected Marvel was 70’s inflation. Comic books, after all, were bought primarily by young people without a lot of disposable income who might respond to 1975’s 9% inflation rate by cutting back on non-essentials. Hence, the cover of X-Men #98 prominently displayed that this issue would still cost only 25ȼ (or $1.05 in 2015 dollars, which is a steal, compared to $3.99 an issue today).
However, even Mighty Marvel couldn’t resist the forces of stagflation forever. By October of 1976, when Jean Grey emerged from the waters of Jamaica Bay as “now and forever – the Phoenix,” an issue of X-Men was up to 30ȼ an issue; and when Jean Grey was buried in October of 1980, the regular price went up to 50ȼ an issue, double what it had been four years ago. To try to hang onto their readers, Marvel enlisted the Incredible Hulk to sell subscriptions that came with discounts:
No wonder then, that Chris Claremont started coming up with some unusual solutions to New York City’s economic policy woes:
One thing I’ve never understood is even though the people living Beyond the Wall have been sequestered from the rest of Westeros for the past eight thousands years, somehow the Common Tongue is still widely spoken by many of its inhabitants. Not only that but there’s also no discrepancy from their vernacular compared to the rest of the continent. In fact quite a few Wildlings we’ve encountered such as Ygritte, Mance and Tormund are able to speak the Common Tongue better than many smallfolk and Mountain Clans in the Vale who seem to speak a completely different dialect from their unsophisticated lingo and gibberish.
Now I get that for Jon’s story to work he has to be able to communicate with the Wildlings, hence we have this Aliens speak English trope going on in his arc. But realistically this shouldn’t be possible. I mean it only took a few centuries for Latin to evolve into completely new languages of many distinct variations such as French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese etc, and the people who spoke these languages were still more or less in contact with one another after Rome fell. Yet even after eight thousands years of being cut off from the rest of civilization without much interaction with the people south of their region, many Wildlings can still speak the Common Tongue unaltered and indistinct from their southern neighbors.
Do you think there is an explanation for this?
This is a case where narrative convenience seems to have trumped coherent worldbuilding, but I say seems because I’m not clear on why or how necessary it was. GRRM’s got no problem inventing multiple languages in Essos, although he does cheat a bit with how Valyrian dialects are mostly mutually coherent, after all.
(However, if I was to give a No Prize, I’d say that because the wildlings steal women all the time from the North, they’re constantly importing women who teach the Common Tongue to their kids.)
So how hard would it have been to decide that, because the North held off the Andal invasion, the Old Tongue survived North of the Wall, although after thousands of years where Andal was an incredibly useful linga franca for trade and diplomacy with the rest of the continent, and three hundred years of Targaryen unification, they’ve gradually merged the Old Tongue and the Common Tongue into a creole like Scots, but where the nobility learn to speak proper Old Tongue (to keep up their traditions) and a more Received Pronunciation Common Tongue as well? That way, Jon could speak easily with the Wildlings because he can speak their language, whereas your average Night’s Watchman might not speak their language at all if they’re southron (hence adding to the Othering going on), or only haltingly in a limited pidgen if they’re a Northerner.
Likewise, why isn’t the Common Tongue in Dorne absolutely peppered with Rhoynish loan words and grammatical constructions, as well as having a distinctive accent? Why don’t the residents of the big cities use a bit of Valyrian loan-words which are handy in commerce, which the rural folk find a bit too foreign for their liking?
I don’t remember much of the wildling history but Mance wasn’t born North of the Wall. He was a “southerner”, as the wildlings would call it, and a man of the Night’s Watch before he fled North.
So his speaking of the common tongue is understandable.
Mance was born north of the Wall, but not raised north of the Wall. He was taken as a child by the Night’s Watch when a wildling raider band was put to the sword, and raised to adulthood at the Shadow Tower.
So Mance makes sense. Ygritte and Tormund, less so.