And thus we were left to feel slightly less excited about Sunday evening, a time usually reserved for the doldrums of the weeks as it foretold the coming of the long winter that is Monday mornings. But boy oh boy, what a rush to get there!
"Finally," I proclaimed to my Facebook feed the moment Sunday's seventh and final episode of Game of Thrones season 7 had concluded, "Game of Thrones is BACK!" It felt like that type of moment for me. It was a brief, seven week summer journey that left my head spinning and many complaints tumbling over one another, much like watching the inside of a washing machine. How can they ignore space-time continuity issues? How can any of this be happening?
But happen it did, explain it the producers did, as best they could, through good intentions and a dire need to progress the story to the point where they could wrap the series in a successful fashion (here, book readers should take note and perhaps cringe in fear--if the show had this much trouble reaching an ending, how will a seven book series with two books remaining do so when it moves at a glacially slower pace and its story hasn't even reached where season 6 of the television show began?).
But for all my complaints throughout season 7, this episode, "The Dragon and the Wolf," took them, chewed them up, and regurgitated them in one of the more satisfying conclusionary meals I've ever had the pleasure to lap up.
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