I love Game of Thrones, but I was the girl who once knew the name of every furry little hobbit to ever appear in a Lord of the Rings film, so this isn’t exactly a shocker. The show has drama, sex, violence, gore—fucking dragons, for Christ’s sake. Top it all off with an intriguing plot and a fantastic cast, and what’s not to like?
Oh yeah, all the rampant sexism.
“What?” you may say. “Game of Thrones isn’t sexist. It takes place in a medieval world where sexism is de rigueur, and depicting that sexism isn’t in itself sexist.” True enough. But Game of Thrones doesn’t just depict what would likely be historically accurate sexism in an ancient universe. Instead, the show pardons and even applauds it.
Let’s start with the most obvious. Daenerys Targaryen and her brother Viserys are exiled heirs to the Iron Throne, which was captured by now-king Robert Baratheon with the help of show protagonist Ned Stark. Viserys sells Daenerys to the warlord of the Dothraki, an army of vicious nomads, in exchange for their help in reclaiming the Targaryens’ lost kingdom. Okay, sounds like your typical fantasy fare. The Dothraki king spends his days feasting, pillaging, and murdering, and then comes home for a nice evening of raping his unwilling bride. Yikes. But the depiction of rape isn’t sexist. It’s what comes after. Daenerys eventually falls in love with her husband and is tickled pink when she discovers that she’s pregnant with his rape-spawn. What? That’s ridiculous and just falls in line with the age-old rapist fantasy that says that women may put up a fight, but it’s only temporary; we want it, we need it, and eventually we all come around.
Now let’s turn to the minor female characters. Yeah, they’re mostly hookers. And Game of Thrones doesn’t offer a nuanced take on prostitution, showing ups and downs and pros and cons. It doesn’t imply that perhaps not every prostitute procured by Lord Tyrion Lannister, who has dwarfism, would be sexually attracted to him, and therefore might do her job with anything less than gusto. No, instead Game of Thrones presents a parade of happy whores, often just hanging out naked in the background of scenes. That’s right, needless female nudity abound—it is HBO we’re talking about after all. Now I have no problem with nudity, even when it’s totally unnecessary, but I do have a problem with it being one sided. True Blood is one of my favorite shows, and there are just as many tight butts and six-packs as there are bouncing boobs. But I can’t remember a single incidence of sexualized male nudity in Game of Thrones’ first season.
You may protest, “But there are plenty of strong, empowered women in Game of Thrones!” Sure. But what are their motivations? Let’s do a rundown. Catelyn Stark is Ned’s wife. What does she want? To look after her husband and sons. Evil queen Cersei Lannister? All she wants is to see her son and brother in power. See a pattern? The so-called “strong” women of Game of Thrones want nothing more than to tend to the men in their lives. The only female character not propelled by stereotypically girly desires is Arya Stark, Ned’s youngest daughter. But she’s eleven. She’s not old enough to be sexualized and certainly not old enough to be matron-ized. She’s currently in the safe zone of childhood, but I’m sure she’ll have her top off by season eight.
Now, these biting criticisms do nothing to reduce my love for what is an undoubtedly great TV show. But it is a sexist show as well, and burying our heads in the sand will do us no favors. Even those we love need to be called on their bullshit. Get it together, Game of Thrones.