Good morrow, peasants, and welcome back to our review of Netflix’s fantasy series, The Witcher. This episode solved a few mysteries for us. We learned how Geralt and Ciri are linked by destiny, we learned Dara’s tragic backstory, and through thoughtful self-interrogation we will learn what Dara’s true motivation is, and what our conclusions tell us about ourselves. I will mention a thing or two from the rest of the show, and, inexplicably, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but heavy plot spoilers are for episode four only. So hold onto your entrails and claim your child surprise, here are five thoughts on The Witcher season one episode four, “Of Banquets, Bastards, and Burials.”
1. Yennefer of Vengerberg the Regretful Sorceress (say it three times fast)
We last left Yennefer looking forward to the beginning of an exciting, challenging, and fulfilling political career. This episode, years later, she’s disappointed to have found that her position as magical adviser to the King of Aedirn is boring and thankless. She smooths over the king’s political blunders like a CNN pundit and can’t exert her own political power like she thought she’d be able to. Instead she’s stuck babysitting the Queen of Aedirn and her baby girl. And on top of that, the king, frustrated with too many female heirs, sends a terrifying wizard assassin and his magic bug to murder them all. Yennefer tries and fails to save the queen, and after the queen attempts to sacrifice her baby to save her own life, Yennefer fails to save the baby too. Yen sees herself in the abandoned baby, and she assures the baby that life doesn’t live up to the hype, as she buries her in a shallow grave by the ocean. Look, peasants, Yen’s been through a lot, she’s trying her best, let’s cut her some slack.
Yennefer’s challenging student-life at Aretuza was an enormous improvement from the constant abuse she faced as a pig farmer, and her boring life at court was yet another exponential improvement, (at least it was before that whole thing with the terrifying wizard assassin and his magic bug) but mediocrity will never satisfy Yen. She doesn’t rest on her laurels. A lot of us have felt that pressure to be the best, to not accept second place or a job done good enough. I care about Yennefer enough to want to see her rest on the occasional laurel, but there’s a reason they don’t make television shows about pretty good sorceresses. Yennefer is exceptional. She will do exceptional things. She will have an exceptional life. The rest of us can pat ourselves on the back for showering today, sit back on the sofa, and watch.
2. Dara’s Motivation
We’ve finally learned Dara’s tragic backstory. He’s the lone survivor in his family, and as far as he knows, in his city, of Queen Calanthe’s genocide against the Elves. He joined Ciri because he was alone. He helped her because he saw that she needed help.
The world of The Witcher has a generally cynical view of the human condition. Those with power are, for the most part, selfish and cruel. Those without power are ignorant and cruel. Everyone will step on anyone for a better life or just to stay afloat. But Dara, himself at risk of starving alone in the woods, will share his roasted rat with a stranger, and even take an arrow for her, because he’s a nice young man. Can he truly be such a cinnamon roll? Are we naive to think so? Are we heartless not to? Geralt too is an unusually compassionate being seeking justice in an unjust world, but unlike Dara, he can’t just do a good deed without rolling his eyes. Even Istredd made room in his otherwise very sweet relationship with Yennefer to further his own ambitions. Just a few paragraphs ago I implored you to cut Yennefer slack for doing her best under difficult circumstances, but Dara remains generous under far worse circumstances. Do our circumstances make us cruel, do they reveal the cruelty that was in us all along, or are they irrelevant to the people we choose to be? If Dara is who he appears to be, he would have us believe the latter. When Ciri insists she must find Geralt of Rivia, whom her grandmother assured her was her destiny, Dara tells Ciri to ignore Grandma Genocide and think for herself. Dara doesn’t assume that Ciri is responsible for the sins of her grandparents. Regardless of where you came from, where you are, or where you’re destined to go, you are ultimately responsible for who you are on the inside.
Continued below3. Magic is Gross
Speaking of insides, last episode we witnessed a graphic hysterectomy as part of Yennefer of Vengerberg’s magical plastic surgery ritual. This episode we see one of Fringilla’s unfortunate interns eat a piece of Queen Calanthe’s corpse, so Fringilla can cut him open and divine Ciri’s whereabouts from his entrails. Tissaia de Vries, Rectoress of Aretuza, taught us that magic is chaos, and that to perform magic is to organize chaos. But one thing she didn’t tell us about magic, is that it’s gross.
Why is magic gross? I’m so glad you asked. In any fantasy world, magic is only interesting when it’s limited. Those limits, and their aesthetic, define the world and its magic-using inhabitants. Yennefer’s excruciatingly painful hysterectomy show us the lengths she will go to accrue power. Fringilla’s hand on the entrails of her unnamed intern show us how easily Fringilla and Nilfgaard will discard others on their way to hunt Ciri. It isn’t enough to see him bloodlessly vanish like some background vamp in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, we must see his killers’ disgusting amorality manifested in his disgusting innards. Fringilla’s complete lack of emotional reaction furthers our understanding of her ethical degradation. If magic was easy, the characters would be boring. If magic was pretty, the world wouldn’t be so bleak and desperate. Magic is gross because people are terrible. Oh Dara, you cinnamon roll, get out of here, you’re too good.
4. Sir Strangelove, or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Law of Surprise
No, the Law of Surprise doesn’t have anything to do with the atomic bomb, but Sir Duny is a strange lover and I did learn to stop worrying and love the Law of Surprise. I love it so much I want to capitalize it.
The Law of Surprise is as silly as it sounds. When someone saves another’s life, the saved promises their savior something they don’t yet know they have. Sometimes it’s a crop that has grown while they were away getting their life saved in battle. When Geralt of Rivia saves Sir Duny’s life, he earns his yet-to-be-born child, Ciri. While Geralt isn’t ready yet to take responsibility for his child surprise (yup, that’s what they call it) we know he takes the Law of Surprise seriously because he leaps to defend Sir Duny’s claim to his child surprise, Princess Pavetta. Geralt doesn’t take any other tradition like this seriously. He doesn’t show proper respect to King Foltest or Queen Calanthe. He’s not even polite to his friends. But when Sir Duny invokes the Law of Surprise, Geralt drops his characteristic cynicism, because, he says, “a promise made must be honored.”
But it’s such a silly promise. Why would you take this seriously, Geralt? Why would anyone take this seriously? Who invented this nonsense, and why? Above all, why, Geralt, would you claim the Law of Surprise directly after slaughtering a ballroom full of unnamed Cintran guards for attempting to thwart said Law?
There is one answer to all of these questions: Don’t think about it too hard. Shut up and embrace your destiny. Stop worrying, and learn to love The Law of Surprise.
5. I Guess This Time the Real Monster is… Apoliticism
In the tried and true tradition of “monster-of-the-week” the fantastical monsters Geralt is hired to slay are nothing compared to the societal ills they represent. This time, the real monster is apoliticism.
In this episode Jaskier hires Geralt to protect him from numerous jealous cuckolds at a big fun party at the Palace of Cintra. Geralt insists he doesn’t get involved with these kinds of things, to which Jaskier wisely retorts, “yes, yes, you don’t get involved, but you actually do, all the time.” Geralt rolls his eyes and does indeed accompany Jaskier. At that very same party, Queen Calanthe asks Geralt to murder a nuisance or two, and Geralt refuses, again insisting that he does not like to get involved. And then of course he does involve himself, protecting Sir Duny from Queen Calanthe. Witchers are supposed to be apolitical, and Geralt would like to think he’s apolitical, but he’s not. He cannot be. Politics is the means by which all of us negotiate our lives together in a society. Usually if not literally always, this negotiation involves an unequal power dynamic. May I remind you, peasants, Desmond Tutu famously said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” For Geralt to do nothing is to support Queen Calanthe. He learned the same lesson in episode one; when he chose not to involve himself in the conflict between Stregebor and Renfri, he effectively chose Stregebor. So too in the real world, apoliticism is as fantastical an idea as witchers and sorceresses and hedgehog knights.
I can hardly believe that I, an enormous Jaskier fan, spent another fun Jaskier-filled episode review not talking about Jaskier. All I can say is, this show is full of great characters. I’m obviously obsessed with Dara, and that has more to do with me than Jaskier. I’m on my own journey, as are we all, and I thank you, peasants, for spending part of your journey with me. Until next time, good luck on the path.
