So it was about a year ago that I did my meta post on mommies & ASOIAF. I never got around to the fathers one, maybe this year. But in the interim I wanted to talk a little about parenthood overall in the series, and in particular, the asymmetrical treatment they get from the author.

In A Storm of Swords Sam and Gilly sit with a baby and Gilly asks Sam to sing "some southron song" for it. Sam starts the Song of the Seven:
The Father's face is stern and strong, he sits and judges right from wrong.
He weighs our lives, the short and long, and loves the little children.
The Mother gives the gift of life, and watches over every wife.
Her gentle smile ends all strife, and she loves her little children.
We get here what is emphasized throughout the series: the Father's key trait is justice, and the Mother's is mercy. This isn't a very interesting asymmetry for the purposes of this post. More interesting is the sphere granted toward each: the Father weighs "our lives", it is implied that this means everyone's. The Mother, on the other hand, watches over the life of every wife, a smaller subset. Also, the Father is said to love the little children, while the Mother loves her little children. A mother's duties seems to be defined more locally, the father's more universally.*

Perhaps fittingly, we have more instances of lords taking wards (Jon Arryn and Ned, Hoster Tully and Petyr, Ned Stark and Theon, Anders Yronwood and Quentyn) than ladies (Catelyn Stark and the two little Frey boys, and this only after her husband has died). If I'm not forgetting something here, that is. It might also be appropriate to mention squires as a form of surrogate relationships, like Beric Dondarrion and Edric. While women do take ladies into their service, we certainly don't see any (other than Brienne who is "employed" as a knight rather than a lady, thus inhibiting any surrogate nature of the relationship since Catelyn couldn't teach her anything about it). There is also the (counter?) example of Gilly, who took in Val's baby. It is interesting that this was presented as an exchange, as she loses her own.

Another asymmetry is the different flavors of custody each parent seems to be afforded. In A Feast for Crows, Doran says to Arianne:
You would have served the Archon as a cupbearer and met with your betrothed in secret, but your mother threatened to harm herself if I stole another of her children, and I ... I could not do that to her.
In A Game of Thrones when Ned is going to King's Landing with the children he is apologetic at taking Sansa, Arya and Bran away from their mother. No mention is made of the fact that Ned will be away from Robb and Rickon for as long as Catelyn will be away from the others, not out loud nor in his own head (*cough*nor in fandom*cough*). It appears that while mothers' spheres are more local, when it comes to actual parent-child relationships their investment is greater and/or their life roles are more defined by parenthood. When Oberyn takes Obara from her mother, the woman "drank herself to death within the year" (Feast), and when Tyrion discusses sending Cersei's children away with Varys in A Clash for Kings, he responds:
What avails statecraft against the love of a mother for the sweet fruit of her womb? Perhaps, for the glory of her House and the safety of the realm, the queen might be persuaded to send away Tornmen or Myrcella. But both of them? Surely not.
The additive effect of her children's absence is highlighted here, and indicates that separate from the individual value each child carries, there is the matter of having a child -- any child at all -- to care for. And then of course there is her own very telling lines in Feast:
No mother should outlive her children, and no captain should outlive his ship
I know she is a mother, with a young son that she wants to rise high in this world. She will do whatever is required to see that he does. Mothers are all the same.
There are no expressions that come near rivaling this for fathers, that suggest that fathers as a species live for their children. The closest we have is Rickard Karstark's exhortations about a man's -- a father's -- need for vengeance, which is an exaggerated way to assert a right for justice. Martin presents this plot point (Karstark's murders of the Lannister prisoners in response to the death of his sons) as a contrast alongside Catelyn's agenda-driven mercy on Jaime Lannister, whom she, though she would like nothing more than to kill him, frees in response to the death of her younger sons, in exchange for the welfare of those that remain. One might say that some universal parental emotion is alluded to in this little microcosm of expression of parental grief, but filtered on a narrative level through the different roles of the created society.

The two asymmetries taken together might have some kind of interaction: because a mother is so very responsible for her own children, this possibly interferes with her ability to act as some universal mother.

Another asymmetry is sheer presence. The count of mothers who die early in their children's lives is pretty impressive: Lyanna Stark, Elia Martell, Rhaella Targaryen, Joanna Lannister, Minisa Tully, Lady Tarth, likely Rickard Stark's wife, Catelyn Tully Stark. In contrast on the fathers' side, there's pretty much Ned Stark and Oberyn Martell, maybe Robert Baratheon depending on if you count him as Joff's father (ETA: and Jon Arryn). Rickard Stark dies when his youngest child is about 15, only a year off from being old enough to join the Nights Watch, and Balon Greyjoy's youngest is older still when he's killed. Tywin Lannister and Hoster Tully die as grandfathers. Rickard Karstark's daughter might be young, but his remaining son is probably an adult.

One might say that Martin is intending to take a medieval (pop) reality, the fact that women are susceptible to death in child labor, and make a theme out of it: we have a lot of musing about maternal absence from the characters, and it seems to cut to a very base level: how different our entire lives would have been if she was here.

But missing fathers receive much more sentimental grieving than missing mothers do. In the wake of Ned Stark's death, we have touching and overtly emotional scenes with all of his children, and while it is a key contrast that none of his children really seem to mourn Tywin Lannister, he receives a very public display of acknowledgment that a great man has passed. In contrast, when Catelyn Stark dies none of her children take much pause, save arguably Arya. And the blankness with which Jaime Lannister receives his mother's ghost is very noticeable.

(It's possible in the case of Catelyn Stark to argue that by that point her children are so desensitized that it would not serve the narrative to write it any other way; yet that doesn't make it inaccurate to say that the author has arranged it this way.)

The one overt display shown at a mother's death is Oberyn's quest for vengeance for Elia and her children. It might be related to the fact that they are Dornish, and the Dornish value women differently.**

It seems to me that motherhood is anchored by Catelyn's exchange with Brienne:
Knights die in battle," Catelyn reminded her.
Brienne looked at her with those blue and beautiful eyes. "As ladies die in childbed. No one sings songs about them."
"Children are a battle of a different sort."
There doesn't seem to be any unifying theme for fatherhood, perhaps as a reflection of their different investment. It's curious then that they are mourned so differently.

A final asymmetry I've noted is parental quality. While fandom tends to criticize many mothers for their choices, and indeed while Lysa Tully Arryn and Cersei Lannister Baratheon are quite probably intended to raise our eyebrows, no mother is presented as quite as horrible as Craster, Randyll Tarly, or Tywin Lannister. Is anything any mother does so bad as raping and sacrificing your children, telling them you'd like to leave them out to die, or forcing them to engage in gang rape of their wife?

_______
* ETA: Actually, Daenerys is hailed publicly as "mother" by some of the peoples she encounters, so that is a bit of a universal, but this only happens once she has lost not only her own child but her ability to have any more of her own children.

** ETA2: I meant to include this but forgot: there is also the Stark legend of Brandon the Burner, who out of grief for his missing father (Brandon the Shipwright who sailed away and never returned), burned the entire naval fleet of Winterfell. A very overt display of grief, and a very mournful note embalmed in a decidedly melancholy legend.

When Ned dies, Luwin says that his likeness has to be transferred to the stone statue that will guard his tomb. This preserves the face of the lost, and contrasts with the lack of familiarity/recognition Jaime and Catleyn express about their mothers' faces. Perhaps relatedly, Cat's face is clawed beyond all recognition in her Stoneheart incarnation.



As always I'd love to hear your thoughts, if I've missed anything or gotten something incorrect or if there's anything related to touch on. I've done my best to not talk about fandom's different approaches to mothers and fathers too much, but I'm not classy enough to be above bitching about it in comments.
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