Monday, September 30, 2019

Australian Cultural Identity

The Australian poet Bruce Dawe was one of the first Australian poets to recognise the average Australian as one who neither lives in the country or in the centre of a metropolis but in the middle class suburbs that expand outward from the cities. He writes for the great middle mass of Australian population about matters of social, political and cultural interests. Though Dawe is well aware of the sense of the ironic in city and suburban life in Australia that not all is well in the average Australian’s life in suburbia.Bruce Dawe poems often concern’s the average Australian people in the suburbs confronting their everyday problems, he observes and records the sorrow and hardships of average people struggling to survive. Our cultural identity even a stereotypical view of Australian’s is that we’re laconic, anti authority and we live in egalitarian society. Bruce Dawe’s views on Australian cultural identity are represented in ‘Life Cycle’ ‘Up The Wall’ and ‘Homo Suburbiensis’. ‘Life Cycle’ represents the proud and passionate nature of Australian people especially at sporting events.Life Cycle is obviously about Australian Rules Football and football team’s supporters from when they are young to when they are old. Their feeble passion for their club when they are young â€Å"Carn, Carn they Cry †¦feebly at first’ to when they are old and proud and passionate supporters. They are brought up from the beginning with football in their blood, when they play football and win they are praised and showered with glory but when they lose they are shunned by proud parents.Dawe is well aware of the excesses, the lunacies of the Australian Rules supporter but the poem is not attacking what might appear to be an Australian social evil. Dawe borrows many liturgical statements to emphasise the passion of Australian Rules followers. â€Å"They will not grow old as those from more Northern States grow old’ borrowed from Binyon’s â€Å"To the Fallen† links in with the patriotic Anzacs who fought against the odds with pride and dignity. The football followers are patriotic about their team and the true followers support their team through thick and thin.On the football field race and ethnicity mean nothing it is forgotten, physical prowess and class of the player dictate people’s views on the player. You would love him or hate him depending on which team you followed. A strong image of an Australian society that is proud and passionate is represented in ‘Life Cycle’ but sometimes this pride and passion is taken to seriously and it can ruin the sport and turn it into something of a social evil. Bruce Dawe in ‘Life Cycle’ represents the football as a culture, a religion, away of life for many Australian people.Sport in Australia is significantly more popular then in most places in the world as Bruce Dawe said when he commented on ‘Life Cycle’ â€Å"I think all Australians have something of a predisposition to treat sport as being just a bit more religious than in other places’. Just looking at the newspapers and it’s obvious that football dominates the sport section it is Australia’s national game an icon that only Australian’s know. Bruce Dawe recognises how significant sport in particular Australian Rules is to the average Australian it is away of life a culture.Chicken Smallhorn a former Fitzroy wingman that gained god like status among the Fitzroy followers for his exploits on the football field, â€Å"Chicken Smallhorn return like maize-god in a thousand shapes, the dancers changing† Like race and ethnicity religion is forgotten on the football field, all players and supporters have one religion or aim rather to win the Grand Final and place their hands on the premiership trophy, the holy grail of football. Like a religion the s upporters hope for salvation, whenever their team is losing and having a terrible season they hope their clubs season will change they remain optimistic.â€Å"Having seen the six-foot recruit from Eaglehawk their hope for salvation† The true supporters remain through the slumps of their club they believe in their club it is their religion. The poem ‘Homo Suburbiensis’ represents a classical suburban household set on a quarter-acre block with a flower garden and lawn in front and a vegetable garden with lawn at the back. Dawes view of Australian cultural identity is that where people live in the typical Australian suburbs where it is an egalitarian society which is laidback and laconic.The imagery suggests that Dawe is both celebrating suburbia, while in some ways puts down the suburban householders dreams The rich smell of â€Å"compost† and â€Å"rubbish†. The space taken vastly by overcrowds dry land with drying plants represent the overcrowding o f suburbia. His thoughts are lost escaping the pressures that comes with life. The traffic unescapable to his mind. Dawe shows a sympathetic look towards this person â€Å"lost in a green confusion†, as even in the retreat of his backyard he still cannot escape the lifestyle of suburbs.Though in comparison to a woman’s life in the suburbs it is significantly better. The peace, beauty of nature and freedom he encounters in is backyard allows him to relax in his middle class life. To be ordinary in Australia, whether in the suburbs or in the city, is the norm for men to hide their concerns and troubles. The image of green beauty, fertile and fecard backyard and the man admiring his backyard in middle class suburbia represents the laconic laidback attitude and the peace he encounters in his backyard.This is a good example of an ordinary life, as this particular person needs to escape the pressures, which highlight â€Å"TIME, PAIN, LOVE, HATE, AGE, EMOTION, and LAUGHTERà ¢â‚¬ . All which are present and Dawe makes that aware of an ordinary Australian life. Being achieved in his back yard. Representative of a modest life but a life lived fully in suburbia. A clear image in ‘Homo Suburbiensis’ is of your typical Australian bloke, who comes home after work and relaxes in his backyard as the sunsets. This is part of the Australian dream to come home after work do a nice family and relax in the outdoors in a peaceful backyard in suburbia.Bruce Dawe himself was once portrayed as an ordinary bloke with a difference, an Australian ‘Ocker’ who believes in the simple things in life. Dawe maintains that there is one constant value in an unstable world where politics play a major role. The man is a suburban householder with an ordinary Australian life standing alone in his backyard on a quiet evening among his vegetables. Dawe understand the ordinary life of a man as when he was younger he didn’t hold a regular job and ‘k nocked around’ giving him a rich experience of the occupations of an ordinary man.He also understands the language of the common man and writes in simple everyday language. The laconic wit of the ordinary working-man, backyard speech patterns combined with Dawes own flair for word play allowed him to create the everyday common Australian in such poems as ‘Homo Suburbiensis’. The typical male in suburbia is that of a middle class white Anglo-Saxon with little religious believes but most probably Christian backgrounds. Though this means little in suburbia where everyone is even in their backyard admiring the beauty and peace of Australia.While life is predominantly easy and peaceful for the male life can be significantly harder for women in suburbia. In ‘Up the Wall’ the middle class housewife life is illustrated as hard irritating work. Her isolation is emphasised in the second stanza with the repetition of ‘she says’ this represents the vacuum in which her speech occurs. Her husband similar to the male in ‘Homo Suburbiensis’ is at work all day remains in his masculine world at home within the suburbs offers little help and pays little attention to his wife. There is little sense of community and support within the Australian suburbs.The male voice only appears in the concluding couplet where the final powerful appraisal is made of the poems content. The domestic life of the housewife after he has spoken the matter ends. This structure replicates the power of the masculine head of the household all be it in the 160’s but we still live in a patriarchal society. It also reveals the disjuncture between the masculine and feminine worlds and how little he appreciates what his wife goes through each day. The presence of his ‘fraud’ contrasts heavily with her aloneness.The Cultural identity for women and men varies; men are laidback laconic ‘ockers’ while women are middle class housewives without a job. The structure and form of ‘Up the Wall’ allows us to sympathise with the housewife’s life in the suburbs. Dawe uses the Shakespearean sonnet form ironically; the readers expectations of the form as a portrayal of love are dismantled just as the reader’s assumption about marriage are overturned. The iambic pentameter is used to represent the restriction; monotony and tension of a suburban housewife live in the 160’s.It also challenges the reader’s expectations as we sympathise with her as she struggles through everyday while her anger and tension rises. Other poetic techniques such as caesura and enjambment are used also to represent the constant interruption to her day and the rising anger and tension she feels in her repetitious life in suburbia. She has little cultural identity just one of a middle class suburban housewife in 160’s Australia. The average Australian living in the middle class suburbs that ex pands outward from the cities has a strong cultural identity.Dawe represent Australia as a suburban based country with strong links to sport while being laconic and laidback. Men enjoy a laconic lifestyle enjoying sport while women have a less enjoyable lifestyle suffering from the stress and tension of being a middle class housewife in suburbia. Bruce Dawe writes poems for these ordinary Australian’s about matters that interest them such as political, social and cultural concerns. Dawe celebrates aspects of urban and suburban life while also satirically criticising suburbia, where Dawe believes the heart of Australian cultural identity can be found, suburbia.

Sunday, September 29, 2019

“A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens

â€Å"A Tale of Two Cities† by Charles Dickens entails eternal themes of transformation and resurrection because nothing is permanent in the world and along with rapid run of life people are constantly changing to respond to emerging goods and evils.This eternal themes are of great value because in such a way the author shows that all people should be provided with a chance to change their lives for better, to strive for better living for themselves and their beloved people.Actually, resurrection of heroes promotes the idea of hope which never dies. Transformation and resurrection are two powerful themes which are seen throughout plot progression. Furthermore, resurrection and transformation are illustrated on both societal and personal levels. It is seen that many characters appear to be involved in themes of redemption, love, and good vs. evil. All these themes are brought together to portray the themes of transformation and resurrection.These themes can be applied to Dr. Ma nette who was taken away from his pregnant wife and unborn child. Dr. Manette was imprisoned for eighteen years and during them he experienced the worst conditions and he even forgot his real name. Dr. Manette is resurrected and his life is transformed for several times throughout the novel.In â€Å"Book the First† French government released him and bring to Monsieur Defarge to be cared. Thus, French government gave him hope for restoring his life, his past and future because Dr. Manette is suddenly â€Å"recalled to life†. (19) Nevertheless, his transformation wasn’t complete till he was reunited with his lost daughter Lucy. It was Lucy’s love that enabled Manette to resurrect spiritually and his daughter reinforced his notion of the rebirth.Then, in â€Å"The Golden Thread† the themes of resurrection and transformation are involved several times. For example, Charles Darnay was put on the trial because of treachery in England. He was considered a spy as he traveled forth and back between England and France. People were sure he had to be found guilty and, therefore, he had to be sentenced to death.However, Sydney Carton saved his live and Dr. Manette was â€Å"recalled to life† (35) for the second time. Nevertheless, then Dickens presents different perspectives on resurrection and transformation themes. For example, he illustrates resurrection with a parody. Jerry Cruncher was a body-snatcher and he considered his night activities as the honest trade. His son was also proud of father’s activities and he desired to follow him: â€Å"Oh, Father, I should so like to be a resurrection-man when I'm quite growed up!† (166)It is necessary to outline that Sydney Carton is one more character who involved the most in the themes of transformation and resurrection. Firstly he was presented as a man with lo self-esteem, though he was provided with tremendous amount of devotion, courage and self-sacrifice. It was Cart on who helped to resurrect Charles Darnay, though it was no the only time he saved human’s life.When he organized the switch, the author emphasized the inner purposes of his actions. Dickens argues that Carton has never achieved the desired outcomes in his life and now the chance is ensured. Carton realized he had to endanger his life as it was a way to redemption.Sydney understood his switch was successfully arranged and he had done a good job. When facing death Carton didn’t back away; instead he embraced it to resurrect later. Till death he was prophetic and peaceful and he even made friends with woman being unjustly sentenced to death. In the final moment before death, Carton was portrayed as a Messiah who was giving his life allowing others to enjoy theirs.Before he was beheaded, he uttered Jesus’ words: â€Å"I am the Resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die†. (366) In such a way the author tends to show that Carton lived till the end of the book when final resurrection took place.Summing up every theme in the book is provided with specific purpose. Eternal themes of redemption, love are included in the transformation and resurrection theme to unite the plot and to add to author’s style of writing.Works CitedDickens, Charles. A Tale of Two Cities. New York: Oxford University Press, 1976. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens The book is called A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens published by Penguin books in New York first published in 1839. The book’s 449 pages talks mostly about the years leading up to the French Revolution and climaxes in the Reign of Terror perpetrated by the Jacobins.The story is about Charles Darnay, a French Aristocrat, and Sydney Carton, an English barrister. Both fall in love with the same woman, Lucie Manette. Eventually, Sydney is executed. The chapters are almost evenly divided between events in France and Events in England.II. AnalysisThe novel as per Dickens’ conception dealt heavily with themes of ressurection, guilt, hope, shame, redemption, social injustice and patriotism.The novel was a rare example of a Dickens’ novel having a historic theme because it talked about real world events that happened France and England during the years of revolution. His book teaches us about the futility of mob violence and the violence that occurs in relation to the French revolution most especially the excesses of the Jacobins. Finally, the book teaches us about the extreme social inequality that eventually led to the revolution.III. Appraisal.I liked the book because it applied Dickens’ impressive writing skills to the field of history. The normally bland topic is given amusing form and becomes something the youth can enjoy reading about. I would recommend it to other young people as an introduction to history and the social inequalities of Europe that led to the revolutions that swept the continent.   

Saturday, September 28, 2019

A Game of Thrones Chapter Fortyseven

â€Å"Promise me, Ned,† Lyanna’s statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood. Eddard Stark jerked upright, his heart racing, the blankets tangled around him. The room was black as pitch, and someone was hammering on the door. â€Å"Lord Eddard,† a voice called loudly. â€Å"A moment.† Groggy and naked, he stumbled his way across the darkened chamber. When he opened the door, he found Tomard with an upraised fist, and Cayn with a taper in hand. Between them stood the king’s own steward. The man’s face might have been carved of stone, so little did it show. â€Å"My lord Hand,† he intoned. â€Å"His Grace the King commands your presence. At once.† So Robert had returned from his hunt. It was long past time. â€Å"I shall need a few moments to dress.† Ned left the man waiting without. Cayn helped him with his clothes; white linen tunic and grey cloak, trousers cut open down his plaster-sheathed leg, his badge of office, and last of all a belt of heavy silver links. He sheathed the Valyrian dagger at his waist. The Red Keep was dark and still as Cayn and Tomard escorted him across the inner bailey. The moon hung low over the walls, ripening toward full. On the ramparts, a guardsman in a gold cloak walked his rounds. The royal apartments were in Maegor’s Holdfast, a massive square fortress that nestled in the heart of the Red Keep behind walls twelve feet thick and a dry moat lined with iron spikes, a castle-within-a-castle. Ser Boros Blount guarded the far end of the bridge, white steel armor ghostly in the moonlight. Within, Ned passed two other knights of the Kingsguard; Ser Preston Greenfield stood at the bottom of the steps, and Ser Barristan Selmy waited at the door of the king’s bedchamber. Three men in white cloaks, he thought, remembering, and a strange chill went through him. Ser Barristan’s face was as pale as his armor. Ned had only to look at him to know that something was dreadfully wrong. The royal steward opened the door. â€Å"Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King,† he announced. â€Å"Bring him here,† Robert’s voice called, strangely thick. Fires blazed in the twin hearths at either end of the bedchamber, filling the room with a sullen red glare. The heat within was suffocating. Robert lay across the canopied bed. At the bedside hovered Grand Maester Pycelle, while Lord Renly paced restlessly before the shuttered windows. Servants moved back and forth, feeding logs to the fire and boiling wine. Cersei Lannister sat on the edge of the bed beside her husband. Her hair was tousled, as if from sleep, but there was nothing sleepy in her eyes. They followed Ned as Tomard and Cayn helped him cross the room. He seemed to move very slowly, as if he were still dreaming. The king still wore his boots. Ned could see dried mud and blades of grass clinging to the leather where Robert’s feet stuck out beneath the blanket that covered him, A green doublet lay on the floor, slashed open and discarded, the cloth crusted with red-brown stains. The room smelled of smoke and blood and death. â€Å"Ned,† the king whispered when he saw him. His face was pale as milk. â€Å"Come . . . closer.† His men brought him close. Ned steadied himself with a hand on the bedpost. He had only to look down at Robert to know how bad it was. â€Å"What . . . ?† he began, his throat clenched. â€Å"A boar.† Lord Renly was still in his hunting greens, his cloak spattered with blood. â€Å"A devil,† the king husked. â€Å"My own fault. Too much wine, damn me to hell. Missed my thrust.† â€Å"And where were the rest of you?† Ned demanded of Lord Renly. â€Å"Where was Ser Barristan and the Kingsguard?† Renly’s mouth twitched. â€Å"My brother commanded us to stand aside and let him take the boar alone.† Eddard Stark lifted the blanket. They had done what they could to close him up, but it was nowhere near enough. The boar must have been a fearsome thing. It had ripped the king from groin to nipple with its tusks. The wine-soaked bandages that Grand Maester Pycelle had applied were already black with blood, and the smell off the wound was hideous. Ned’s stomach turned. He let the blanket fall. â€Å"Stinks,† Robert said. â€Å"The stink of death, don’t think I can’t smell it. Bastard did me good, eh? But I . . . I paid him back in kind, Ned.† The king’s smile was as terrible as his wound, his teeth red. â€Å"Drove a knife right through his eye. Ask them if I didn’t. Ask them.† â€Å"Truly,† Lord Renly murmured. â€Å"We brought the carcass back with us, at my brother’s command.† â€Å"For the feast,† Robert whispered. â€Å"Now leave us. The lot of you. I need to speak with Ned.† â€Å"Robert, my sweet lord . . . † Cersei began. â€Å"I said leave,† Robert insisted with a hint of his old fierceness. â€Å"What part of that don’t you understand, woman?† Cersei gathered up her skirts and her dignity and led the way to the door. Lord Renly and the others followed. Grand Maester Pycelle lingered, his hands shaking as he offered the king a cup of thick white liquid. â€Å"The milk of the poppy, Your Grace,† he said. â€Å"Drink. For your pain.† Robert knocked the cup away with the back of his hand. â€Å"Away with you. I’ll sleep soon enough, old fool. Get out.† Grand Maester Pycelle gave Ned a stricken look as he shuffled from the room. â€Å"Damn you, Robert,† Ned said when they were alone. His leg was throbbing so badly he was almost blind with pain. Or perhaps it was grief that fogged his eyes. He lowered himself to the bed, beside his friend. â€Å"Why do you always have to be so headstrong?† â€Å"Ah, fuck you, Ned,† the king said hoarsely. â€Å"I killed the bastard, didn’t I?† A lock of matted black hair fell across his eyes as he glared up at Ned. â€Å"Ought to do the same for you. Can’t leave a man to hunt in peace. Ser Robar found me. Gregor’s head. Ugly thought. Never told the Hound. Let Cersei surprise him.† His laugh turned into a grunt as a spasm of pain hit him. â€Å"Gods have mercy,† he muttered, swallowing his agony. â€Å"The girl. Daenerys. Only a child, you were right . . . that’s why, the girl . . . the gods sent the boar . . . sent to punish me . . .† The king coughed, bringing up blood. â€Å"Wrong, it was wrong, I . . . only a girl . . . Varys, Littlefinger, even my brother . . . worthless . . . no one to tell me no but you, Ned . . . only you . . . † He lifted his hand, the gesture pained and feeble. â€Å"Paper and ink. There, on the table. Write what I tell you.† Ned smoothed the paper out across his knee and took up the quill. â€Å"At your command, Your Grace.† â€Å"This is the will and word of Robert of House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and all the rest—put in the damn titles, you know how it goes. I do hereby command Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King, to serve as Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm upon my . . . upon my death . . . to rule in my . . . in my stead, until my son Joffrey does come of age . . . â€Å" â€Å"Robert . . . † Joffrey is not your son, he wanted to say, but the words would not come. The agony was written too plainly across Robert’s face; he could not hurt him more. So Ned bent his head and wrote, but where the king had said â€Å"my son Joffrey,† he scrawled â€Å"my heir† instead. The deceit made him feel soiled. The lies we tell for love, he thought. May the gods forgive me. â€Å"What else would you have me say?† â€Å"Say . . . whatever you need to. Protect and defend, gods old and new, you have the words. Write. I’ll sign it. You give it to the council when I’m dead.† â€Å"Robert,† Ned said in a voice thick with grief, â€Å"you must not do this. Don’t die on me. The realm needs you.† Robert took his hand, fingers squeezing hard. â€Å"You are . . . such a bad liar, Ned Stark,† he said through his pain. â€Å"The realm . . . the realm knows . . . what a wretched king I’ve been. Bad as Aerys, the gods spare me.† â€Å"No,† Ned told his dying friend, â€Å"not so bad as Aerys, Your Grace. Not near so bad as Aerys.† Robert managed a weak red smile. â€Å"At the least, they will say . . . this last thing . . . this I did right. You won’t fail me. You’ll rule now. You’ll hate it, worse than I did . . . but you’ll do well. Are you done with the scribbling?† â€Å"Yes, Your Grace.† Ned offered Robert the paper. The king scrawled his signature blindly, leaving a smear of blood across the letter. â€Å"The seal should be witnessed.† â€Å"Serve the boar at my funeral feast,† Robert rasped. â€Å"Apple in its mouth, skin seared crisp. Eat the bastard. Don’t care if you choke on him. Promise me, Ned.† â€Å"I promise.† Promise me, Ned, Lyanna’s voice echoed. â€Å"The girl,† the king said. â€Å"Daenerys. Let her live. If you can, if it . . . not too late . . . talk to them . . . Varys, Littlefinger . . . don’t let them kill her. And help my son, Ned. Make him be . . . better than me.† He winced. â€Å"Gods have mercy.† â€Å"They will, my friend,† Ned said. â€Å"They will.† The king closed his eyes and seemed to relax. â€Å"Killed by a pig,† he muttered. â€Å"Ought to laugh, but it hurts too much.† Ned was not laughing. â€Å"Shall I call them back?† Robert gave a weak nod. â€Å"As you will. Gods, why is it so cold in here?† The servants rushed back in and hurried to feed the fires. The queen had gone; that was some small relief, at least. If she had any sense, Cersei would take her children and fly before the break of day, Ned thought. She had lingered too long already. King Robert did not seem to miss her. He bid his brother Renly and Grand Maester Pycelle to stand in witness as he pressed his seal into the hot yellow wax that Ned had dripped upon his letter. â€Å"Now give me something for the pain and let me die.† Hurriedly Grand Maester Pycelle mixed him another draught of the milk of the poppy. This time the king drank deeply. His black beard was beaded with thick white droplets when he threw the empty cup aside. â€Å"Will I dream?† Ned gave him his answer. â€Å"You will, my lord.† â€Å"Good,† he said, smiling. â€Å"I will give Lyanna your love, Ned. Take care of my children for me.† The words twisted in Ned’s belly like a knife. For a moment he was at a loss. He could not bring himself to lie. Then he remembered the bastards: little Barra at her mother’s breast, Mya in the Vale, Gendry at his forge, and all the others. â€Å"I shall . . . guard your children as if they were my own,† he said slowly. Robert nodded and closed his eyes. Ned watched his old friend sag softly into the pillows as the milk of the poppy washed the pain from his face. Sleep took him. Heavy chains jangled softly as Grand Maester Pycelle came up to Ned. â€Å"I will do all in my power, my lord, but the wound has mortified. It took them two days to get him back. By the time I saw him, it was too late. I can lessen His Grace’s suffering, but only the gods can heal him now.† â€Å"How long?† Ned asked. â€Å"By rights, he should be dead already. I have never seen a man cling to life so fiercely.† â€Å"My brother was always strong,† Lord Renly said. â€Å"Not wise, perhaps, but strong.† In the sweltering heat of the bedchamber, his brow was slick with sweat. He might have been Robert’s ghost as he stood there, young and dark and handsome. â€Å"He slew the boar. His entrails were sliding from his belly, yet somehow he slew the boar.† His voice was full of wonder. â€Å"Robert was never a man to leave the battleground so long as a foe remained standing,† Ned told him. Outside the door, Ser Barristan Selmy still guarded the tower stairs. â€Å"Maester Pycelle has given Robert the milk of the poppy,† Ned told him. â€Å"See that no one disturbs his rest without leave from me.† â€Å"It shall be as you command, my lord.† Ser Barristan seemed old beyond his years. â€Å"I have failed my sacred trust.† â€Å"Even the truest knight cannot protect a king against himself,† Ned said. â€Å"Robert loved to hunt boar. I have seen him take a thousand of them.† He would stand his ground without flinching, his legs braced, the great spear in his hands, and as often as not he would curse the boar as it charged, and wait until the last possible second, until it was almost on him, before he killed it with a single sure and savage thrust. â€Å"No one could know this one would be his death.† â€Å"You are kind to say so, Lord Eddard.† â€Å"The king himself said as much. He blamed the wine.† The white-haired knight gave a weary nod. â€Å"His Grace was reeling in his saddle by the time we flushed the boar from his lair, yet he commanded us all to stand aside.† â€Å"I wonder, Ser Barristan,† asked Varys, so quietly, â€Å"who gave the king this wine?† Ned had not heard the eunuch approach, but when he looked around, there he stood. He wore a black velvet robe that brushed the floor, and his face was freshly powdered. â€Å"The wine was from the king’s own skin,† Ser Barristan said. â€Å"Only one skin? Hunting is such thirsty work.† â€Å"I did not keep count. More than one, for a certainty. His squire would fetch him a fresh skin whenever he required it.† â€Å"Such a dutiful boy,† said Varys, â€Å"to make certain His Grace did not lack for refreshment.† Ned had a bitter taste in his mouth. He recalled the two fair-haired boys Robert had sent chasing after a breastplate stretcher. The king had told everyone the tale that night at the feast, laughing until he shook. â€Å"Which squire?† â€Å"The elder,† said Ser Barristan. â€Å"Lancel.† â€Å"I know the lad well,† said Varys. â€Å"A stalwart boy, Ser Kevan Lannister’s son, nephew to Lord Tywin and cousin to the queen. I hope the dear sweet lad does not blame himself. Children are so vulnerable in the innocence of their youth, how well do I remember.† Certainly Varys had once been young. Ned doubted that he had ever been innocent. â€Å"You mention children. Robert had a change of heart concerning Daenerys Targaryen. Whatever arrangements you made, I want unmade. At once.† â€Å"Alas,† said Varys. â€Å"At once may be too late. I fear those birds have flown. But I shall do what I can, my lord. With your leave.† He bowed and vanished down the steps, his soft-soled slippers whispering against the stone as he made his descent. Cayn and Tomard were helping Ned across the bridge when Lord Renly emerged from Maegor’s Holdfast. â€Å"Lord Eddard,† he called after Ned, â€Å"a moment, if you would be so kind.† Ned stopped. â€Å"As you wish.† Renly walked to his side. â€Å"Send your men away.† They met in the center of the bridge, the dry moat beneath them. Moonlight silvered the cruel edges of the spikes that lined its bed. Ned gestured. Tomard and Cayn bowed their heads and backed away respectfully. Lord Renly glanced warily at Ser Boros on the far end of the span, at Ser Preston in the doorway behind them. â€Å"That letter.† He leaned close. â€Å"Was it the regency? Has my brother named you Protector?† He did not wait for a reply. â€Å"My lord, I have thirty men in my personal guard, and other friends beside, knights and lords. Give me an hour, and I can put a hundred swords in your hand.† â€Å"And what should I do with a hundred swords, my lord?† â€Å"Strike! Now, while the castle sleeps.† Renly looked back at Ser Boros again and dropped his voice to an urgent whisper. â€Å"We must get Joffrey away from his mother and take him in hand. Protector or no, the man who holds the king holds the kingdom. We should seize Myrcella and Tommen as well. Once we have her children, Cersei will not dare oppose us. The council will confirm you as Lord Protector and make Joffrey your ward.† Ned regarded him coldly. â€Å"Robert is not dead yet. The gods may spare him. If not, I shall convene the council to hear his final words and consider the matter of the succession, but I will not dishonor his last hours on earth by shedding blood in his halls and dragging frightened children from their beds.† Lord Renly took a step back, taut as a bowstring. â€Å"Every moment you delay gives Cersei another moment to prepare. By the time Robert dies, it may be too late . . . for both of us.† â€Å"Then we should pray that Robert does not die.† â€Å"Small chance of that,† said Renly. â€Å"Sometimes the gods are merciful.† â€Å"The Lannisters are not.† Lord Renly turned away and went back across the moat, to the tower where his brother lay dying. By the time Ned returned to his chambers, he felt weary and heartsick, yet there was no question of his going back to sleep, not now. When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, Cersei Lannister had told him in the godswood. He found himself wondering if he had done the right thing by refusing Lord Renly’s offer. He had no taste for these intrigues, and there was no honor in threatening children, and yet . . . if Cersei elected to fight rather than flee, he might well have need of Renly’s hundred swords, and more besides. â€Å"I want Littlefinger,† he told Cayn. â€Å"If he’s not in his chambers, take as many men as you need and search every winesink and whorehouse in King’s Landing until you find him. Bring him to me before break of day.† Cayn bowed and took his leave, and Ned turned to Tomard. â€Å"The Wind Witch sails on the evening tide. Have you chosen the escort?† â€Å"Ten men, with Porther in command.† â€Å"Twenty, and you will command,† Ned said. Porther was a brave man, but headstrong. He wanted someone more solid and sensible to keep watch over his daughters. â€Å"As you wish, m’lord,† Tom said. â€Å"Can’t say I’ll be sad to see the back of this place. I miss the wife.† â€Å"You will pass near Dragonstone when you turn north. I need you to deliver a letter for me.† Tom looked apprehensive. â€Å"To Dragonstone, m’lord?† The island fortress of House Targaryen had a sinister repute. â€Å"Tell Captain Qos to hoist my banner as soon as he comes in sight of the island. They may be wary of unexpected visitors. If he is reluctant, offer him whatever it takes. I will give you a letter to place into the hand of Lord Stannis Baratheon. No one else. Not his steward, nor the captain of his guard, nor his lady wife, but only Lord Stannis himself.† â€Å"As you command, m’lord.† When Tomard had left him, Lord Eddard Stark sat staring at the flame of the candle that burned beside him on the table. For a moment his grief overwhelmed him. He wanted nothing so much as to seek out the godswood, to kneel before the heart tree and pray for the life of Robert Baratheon, who had been more than a brother to him. Men would whisper afterward that Eddard Stark had betrayed his king’s friendship and disinherited his sons; he could only hope that the gods would know better, and that Robert would learn the truth of it in the land beyond the grave. Ned took out the king’s last letter. A roll of crisp white parchment sealed with golden wax, a few short words and a smear of blood. How small the difference between victory and defeat, between life and death. He drew out a fresh sheet of paper and dipped his quill in the inkpot. To His Grace, Stannis of the House Baratheon, he wrote. By the time you receive this letter, your brother Robert, our King these past fifteen years, will be dead. He was savaged by a boar whilst hunting in the kingswood . . . The letters seemed to writhe and twist on the paper as his hand trailed to a stop. Lord Tywin and Ser Jaime were not men to suffer disgrace meekly; they would fight rather than flee. No doubt Lord Stannis was wary, after the murder of Jon Arryn, but it was imperative that he sail for King’s Landing at once with all his power, before the Lannisters could march. Ned chose each word with care. When he was done, he signed the letter Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Hand of the King, and Protector of the Realm, blotted the paper, folded it twice, and melted the sealing wax over the candle flame. His regency would be a short one, he reflected as the wax softened. The new king would choose his own Hand. Ned would be free to go home. The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran’s laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn. Cayn returned as he was pressing the direwolf seal down into the soft white wax. Desmond was with him, and between them Littlefinger. Ned thanked his guards and sent them away. Lord Petyr was clad in a blue velvet tunic with puffed sleeves, his silvery cape patterned with mockingbirds. â€Å"I suppose congratulations are in order,† he said as he seated himself. Ned scowled. â€Å"The king lies wounded and near to death.† â€Å"I know,† Littlefinger said. â€Å"I also know that Robert has named you Protector of the Realm.† Ned’s eyes flicked to the king’s letter on the table beside him, its seal unbroken. â€Å"And how is it you know that, my lord?† â€Å"Varys hinted as much,† Littlefinger said, â€Å"and you have just confirmed it.† Ned’s mouth twisted in anger. â€Å"Damn Varys and his little birds. Catelyn spoke truly, the man has some black art. I do not trust him.† â€Å"Excellent. You’re learning.† Littlefinger leaned forward. â€Å"Yet I’ll wager you did not drag me here in the black of night to discuss the eunuch.† â€Å"No,† Ned admitted. â€Å"I know the secret Jon Arryn was murdered to protect. Robert will leave no trueborn son behind him. Joffrey and Tommen are Jaime Lannister’s bastards, born of his incestuous union with the queen.† Littlefinger lifted an eyebrow. â€Å"Shocking,† he said in a tone that suggested he was not shocked at all. â€Å"The girl as well? No doubt. So when the king dies . . . â€Å" â€Å"The throne by rights passes to Lord Stannis, the elder of Robert’s two brothers.† Lord Petyr stroked his pointed beard as he considered the matter. â€Å"So it would seem. Unless . . . â€Å" â€Å"Unless, my lord? There is no seeming to this. Stannis is the heir. Nothing can change that.† â€Å"Stannis cannot take the throne without your help. If you’re wise, you’ll make certain Joffrey succeeds.† Ned gave him a stony stare. â€Å"Have you no shred of honor?† â€Å"Oh, a shred, surely,† Littlefinger replied negligently. â€Å"Hear me out. Stannis is no friend of yours, nor of mine. Even his brothers can scarcely stomach him. The man is iron, hard and unyielding. He’ll give us a new Hand and a new council, for a certainty. No doubt he’ll thank you for handing him the crown, but he won’t love you for it. And his ascent will mean war. Stannis cannot rest easy on the throne until Cersei and her bastards are dead. Do you think Lord Tywin will sit idly while his daughter’s head is measured for a spike? Casterly Rock will rise, and not alone. Robert found it in him to pardon men who served King Aerys, so long as they did him fealty. Stannis is less forgiving. He will not have forgotten the siege of Storm’s End, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dare not. Every man who fought beneath the dragon banner or rose with Balon Greyjoy will have good cause to fear. Seat Stannis on the Iron Throne and I promise yo u, the realm will bleed. â€Å"Now look at the other side of the coin. Joffrey is but twelve, and Robert gave you the regency, my lord. You are the Hand of the King and Protector of the Realm. The power is yours, Lord Stark. All you need do is reach out and take it. Make your peace with the Lannisters. Release the Imp. Wed Joffrey to your Sansa. Wed your younger girl to Prince Tommen, and your heir to Myrcella. It will be four years before Joffrey comes of age. By then he will look to you as a second father, and if not, well . . . four years is a good long while, my lord. Long enough to dispose of Lord Stannis. Then, should Joffrey prove troublesome, we can reveal his little secret and put Lord Renly on the throne.† â€Å"We?† Ned repeated. Littlefinger gave a shrug. â€Å"You’ll need someone to share your burdens. I assure you, my price would be modest.† â€Å"Your price.† Ned’s voice was ice. â€Å"Lord Baelish, what you suggest is treason.† â€Å"Only if we lose.† â€Å"You forget,† Ned told him. â€Å"You forget Jon Arryn. You forget Jory Cassel. And you forget this.† He drew the dagger and laid it on the table between them; a length of dragonbone and Valyrian steel, as sharp as the difference between right and wrong, between true and false, between life and death. â€Å"They sent a man to cut my son’s throat, Lord Baelish.† Littlefinger sighed. â€Å"I fear I did forget, my lord. Pray forgive me. For a moment I did not remember that I was talking to a Stark.† His mouth quirked. â€Å"So it will be Stannis, and war?† â€Å"It is not a choice. Stannis is the heir.† â€Å"Far be it from me to dispute the Lord Protector. What would you have of me, then? Not my wisdom, for a certainty.† â€Å"I shall do my best to forget your . . . wisdom,† Ned said with distaste. â€Å"I called you here to ask for the help you promised Catelyn. This is a perilous hour for all of us. Robert has named me Protector, true enough, but in the eyes of the world, Joffrey is still his son and heir. The queen has a dozen knights and a hundred men-at-arms who will do whatever she commands . . . enough to overwhelm what remains of my own household guard. And for all I know, her brother Jaime may be riding for King’s Landing even as we speak, with a Lannister host at his back.† â€Å"And you without an army.† Littlefinger toyed with the dagger on the table, turning it slowly with a finger. â€Å"There is small love lost between Lord Renly and the Lannisters. Bronze Yohn Royce, Ser Balon Swann, Ser Loras, Lady Tanda, the Redwyne twins . . . each of them has a retinue of knights and sworn swords here at court.† â€Å"Renly has thirty men in his personal guard, the rest even fewer. It is not enough, even if I could be certain that all of them will choose to give me their allegiance. I must have the gold cloaks. The City Watch is two thousand strong, sworn to defend the castle, the city, and the king’s peace.† â€Å"Ah, but when the queen proclaims one king and the Hand another, whose peace do they protect?† Lord Petyr flicked at the dagger with his finger, setting it spinning in place. Round and round it went, wobbling as it turned. When at last it slowed to a stop, the blade pointed at Littlefinger. â€Å"Why, there’s your answer,† he said, smiling. â€Å"They follow the man who pays them.† He leaned back and looked Ned full in the face, his grey-green eyes bright with mockery. â€Å"You wear your honor like a suit of armor, Stark. You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move. Look at you now. You know why you summoned me here. You know what you want to ask me to do. You know it has to be done . . . but it’s not honorable, so the words stick in your throat.† Ned’s neck was rigid with tension. For a moment he was so angry that he did not trust himself to speak. Littlefinger laughed. â€Å"I ought to make you say it, but that would be cruel . . . so have no fear, my good lord. For the sake of the love I bear for Catelyn, I will go to Janos Slynt this very hour and make certain that the City Watch is yours. Six thousand gold pieces should do it. A third for the Commander, a third for the officers, a third for the men. We might be able to buy them for half that much, but I prefer not to take chances.† Smiling, he plucked up the dagger and offered it to Ned, hilt first. A Game of Thrones Chapter Fortyseven â€Å"Promise me, Ned,† Lyanna’s statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood. Eddard Stark jerked upright, his heart racing, the blankets tangled around him. The room was black as pitch, and someone was hammering on the door. â€Å"Lord Eddard,† a voice called loudly. â€Å"A moment.† Groggy and naked, he stumbled his way across the darkened chamber. When he opened the door, he found Tomard with an upraised fist, and Cayn with a taper in hand. Between them stood the king’s own steward. The man’s face might have been carved of stone, so little did it show. â€Å"My lord Hand,† he intoned. â€Å"His Grace the King commands your presence. At once.† So Robert had returned from his hunt. It was long past time. â€Å"I shall need a few moments to dress.† Ned left the man waiting without. Cayn helped him with his clothes; white linen tunic and grey cloak, trousers cut open down his plaster-sheathed leg, his badge of office, and last of all a belt of heavy silver links. He sheathed the Valyrian dagger at his waist. The Red Keep was dark and still as Cayn and Tomard escorted him across the inner bailey. The moon hung low over the walls, ripening toward full. On the ramparts, a guardsman in a gold cloak walked his rounds. The royal apartments were in Maegor’s Holdfast, a massive square fortress that nestled in the heart of the Red Keep behind walls twelve feet thick and a dry moat lined with iron spikes, a castle-within-a-castle. Ser Boros Blount guarded the far end of the bridge, white steel armor ghostly in the moonlight. Within, Ned passed two other knights of the Kingsguard; Ser Preston Greenfield stood at the bottom of the steps, and Ser Barristan Selmy waited at the door of the king’s bedchamber. Three men in white cloaks, he thought, remembering, and a strange chill went through him. Ser Barristan’s face was as pale as his armor. Ned had only to look at him to know that something was dreadfully wrong. The royal steward opened the door. â€Å"Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King,† he announced. â€Å"Bring him here,† Robert’s voice called, strangely thick. Fires blazed in the twin hearths at either end of the bedchamber, filling the room with a sullen red glare. The heat within was suffocating. Robert lay across the canopied bed. At the bedside hovered Grand Maester Pycelle, while Lord Renly paced restlessly before the shuttered windows. Servants moved back and forth, feeding logs to the fire and boiling wine. Cersei Lannister sat on the edge of the bed beside her husband. Her hair was tousled, as if from sleep, but there was nothing sleepy in her eyes. They followed Ned as Tomard and Cayn helped him cross the room. He seemed to move very slowly, as if he were still dreaming. The king still wore his boots. Ned could see dried mud and blades of grass clinging to the leather where Robert’s feet stuck out beneath the blanket that covered him, A green doublet lay on the floor, slashed open and discarded, the cloth crusted with red-brown stains. The room smelled of smoke and blood and death. â€Å"Ned,† the king whispered when he saw him. His face was pale as milk. â€Å"Come . . . closer.† His men brought him close. Ned steadied himself with a hand on the bedpost. He had only to look down at Robert to know how bad it was. â€Å"What . . . ?† he began, his throat clenched. â€Å"A boar.† Lord Renly was still in his hunting greens, his cloak spattered with blood. â€Å"A devil,† the king husked. â€Å"My own fault. Too much wine, damn me to hell. Missed my thrust.† â€Å"And where were the rest of you?† Ned demanded of Lord Renly. â€Å"Where was Ser Barristan and the Kingsguard?† Renly’s mouth twitched. â€Å"My brother commanded us to stand aside and let him take the boar alone.† Eddard Stark lifted the blanket. They had done what they could to close him up, but it was nowhere near enough. The boar must have been a fearsome thing. It had ripped the king from groin to nipple with its tusks. The wine-soaked bandages that Grand Maester Pycelle had applied were already black with blood, and the smell off the wound was hideous. Ned’s stomach turned. He let the blanket fall. â€Å"Stinks,† Robert said. â€Å"The stink of death, don’t think I can’t smell it. Bastard did me good, eh? But I . . . I paid him back in kind, Ned.† The king’s smile was as terrible as his wound, his teeth red. â€Å"Drove a knife right through his eye. Ask them if I didn’t. Ask them.† â€Å"Truly,† Lord Renly murmured. â€Å"We brought the carcass back with us, at my brother’s command.† â€Å"For the feast,† Robert whispered. â€Å"Now leave us. The lot of you. I need to speak with Ned.† â€Å"Robert, my sweet lord . . . † Cersei began. â€Å"I said leave,† Robert insisted with a hint of his old fierceness. â€Å"What part of that don’t you understand, woman?† Cersei gathered up her skirts and her dignity and led the way to the door. Lord Renly and the others followed. Grand Maester Pycelle lingered, his hands shaking as he offered the king a cup of thick white liquid. â€Å"The milk of the poppy, Your Grace,† he said. â€Å"Drink. For your pain.† Robert knocked the cup away with the back of his hand. â€Å"Away with you. I’ll sleep soon enough, old fool. Get out.† Grand Maester Pycelle gave Ned a stricken look as he shuffled from the room. â€Å"Damn you, Robert,† Ned said when they were alone. His leg was throbbing so badly he was almost blind with pain. Or perhaps it was grief that fogged his eyes. He lowered himself to the bed, beside his friend. â€Å"Why do you always have to be so headstrong?† â€Å"Ah, fuck you, Ned,† the king said hoarsely. â€Å"I killed the bastard, didn’t I?† A lock of matted black hair fell across his eyes as he glared up at Ned. â€Å"Ought to do the same for you. Can’t leave a man to hunt in peace. Ser Robar found me. Gregor’s head. Ugly thought. Never told the Hound. Let Cersei surprise him.† His laugh turned into a grunt as a spasm of pain hit him. â€Å"Gods have mercy,† he muttered, swallowing his agony. â€Å"The girl. Daenerys. Only a child, you were right . . . that’s why, the girl . . . the gods sent the boar . . . sent to punish me . . .† The king coughed, bringing up blood. â€Å"Wrong, it was wrong, I . . . only a girl . . . Varys, Littlefinger, even my brother . . . worthless . . . no one to tell me no but you, Ned . . . only you . . . † He lifted his hand, the gesture pained and feeble. â€Å"Paper and ink. There, on the table. Write what I tell you.† Ned smoothed the paper out across his knee and took up the quill. â€Å"At your command, Your Grace.† â€Å"This is the will and word of Robert of House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and all the rest—put in the damn titles, you know how it goes. I do hereby command Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King, to serve as Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm upon my . . . upon my death . . . to rule in my . . . in my stead, until my son Joffrey does come of age . . . â€Å" â€Å"Robert . . . † Joffrey is not your son, he wanted to say, but the words would not come. The agony was written too plainly across Robert’s face; he could not hurt him more. So Ned bent his head and wrote, but where the king had said â€Å"my son Joffrey,† he scrawled â€Å"my heir† instead. The deceit made him feel soiled. The lies we tell for love, he thought. May the gods forgive me. â€Å"What else would you have me say?† â€Å"Say . . . whatever you need to. Protect and defend, gods old and new, you have the words. Write. I’ll sign it. You give it to the council when I’m dead.† â€Å"Robert,† Ned said in a voice thick with grief, â€Å"you must not do this. Don’t die on me. The realm needs you.† Robert took his hand, fingers squeezing hard. â€Å"You are . . . such a bad liar, Ned Stark,† he said through his pain. â€Å"The realm . . . the realm knows . . . what a wretched king I’ve been. Bad as Aerys, the gods spare me.† â€Å"No,† Ned told his dying friend, â€Å"not so bad as Aerys, Your Grace. Not near so bad as Aerys.† Robert managed a weak red smile. â€Å"At the least, they will say . . . this last thing . . . this I did right. You won’t fail me. You’ll rule now. You’ll hate it, worse than I did . . . but you’ll do well. Are you done with the scribbling?† â€Å"Yes, Your Grace.† Ned offered Robert the paper. The king scrawled his signature blindly, leaving a smear of blood across the letter. â€Å"The seal should be witnessed.† â€Å"Serve the boar at my funeral feast,† Robert rasped. â€Å"Apple in its mouth, skin seared crisp. Eat the bastard. Don’t care if you choke on him. Promise me, Ned.† â€Å"I promise.† Promise me, Ned, Lyanna’s voice echoed. â€Å"The girl,† the king said. â€Å"Daenerys. Let her live. If you can, if it . . . not too late . . . talk to them . . . Varys, Littlefinger . . . don’t let them kill her. And help my son, Ned. Make him be . . . better than me.† He winced. â€Å"Gods have mercy.† â€Å"They will, my friend,† Ned said. â€Å"They will.† The king closed his eyes and seemed to relax. â€Å"Killed by a pig,† he muttered. â€Å"Ought to laugh, but it hurts too much.† Ned was not laughing. â€Å"Shall I call them back?† Robert gave a weak nod. â€Å"As you will. Gods, why is it so cold in here?† The servants rushed back in and hurried to feed the fires. The queen had gone; that was some small relief, at least. If she had any sense, Cersei would take her children and fly before the break of day, Ned thought. She had lingered too long already. King Robert did not seem to miss her. He bid his brother Renly and Grand Maester Pycelle to stand in witness as he pressed his seal into the hot yellow wax that Ned had dripped upon his letter. â€Å"Now give me something for the pain and let me die.† Hurriedly Grand Maester Pycelle mixed him another draught of the milk of the poppy. This time the king drank deeply. His black beard was beaded with thick white droplets when he threw the empty cup aside. â€Å"Will I dream?† Ned gave him his answer. â€Å"You will, my lord.† â€Å"Good,† he said, smiling. â€Å"I will give Lyanna your love, Ned. Take care of my children for me.† The words twisted in Ned’s belly like a knife. For a moment he was at a loss. He could not bring himself to lie. Then he remembered the bastards: little Barra at her mother’s breast, Mya in the Vale, Gendry at his forge, and all the others. â€Å"I shall . . . guard your children as if they were my own,† he said slowly. Robert nodded and closed his eyes. Ned watched his old friend sag softly into the pillows as the milk of the poppy washed the pain from his face. Sleep took him. Heavy chains jangled softly as Grand Maester Pycelle came up to Ned. â€Å"I will do all in my power, my lord, but the wound has mortified. It took them two days to get him back. By the time I saw him, it was too late. I can lessen His Grace’s suffering, but only the gods can heal him now.† â€Å"How long?† Ned asked. â€Å"By rights, he should be dead already. I have never seen a man cling to life so fiercely.† â€Å"My brother was always strong,† Lord Renly said. â€Å"Not wise, perhaps, but strong.† In the sweltering heat of the bedchamber, his brow was slick with sweat. He might have been Robert’s ghost as he stood there, young and dark and handsome. â€Å"He slew the boar. His entrails were sliding from his belly, yet somehow he slew the boar.† His voice was full of wonder. â€Å"Robert was never a man to leave the battleground so long as a foe remained standing,† Ned told him. Outside the door, Ser Barristan Selmy still guarded the tower stairs. â€Å"Maester Pycelle has given Robert the milk of the poppy,† Ned told him. â€Å"See that no one disturbs his rest without leave from me.† â€Å"It shall be as you command, my lord.† Ser Barristan seemed old beyond his years. â€Å"I have failed my sacred trust.† â€Å"Even the truest knight cannot protect a king against himself,† Ned said. â€Å"Robert loved to hunt boar. I have seen him take a thousand of them.† He would stand his ground without flinching, his legs braced, the great spear in his hands, and as often as not he would curse the boar as it charged, and wait until the last possible second, until it was almost on him, before he killed it with a single sure and savage thrust. â€Å"No one could know this one would be his death.† â€Å"You are kind to say so, Lord Eddard.† â€Å"The king himself said as much. He blamed the wine.† The white-haired knight gave a weary nod. â€Å"His Grace was reeling in his saddle by the time we flushed the boar from his lair, yet he commanded us all to stand aside.† â€Å"I wonder, Ser Barristan,† asked Varys, so quietly, â€Å"who gave the king this wine?† Ned had not heard the eunuch approach, but when he looked around, there he stood. He wore a black velvet robe that brushed the floor, and his face was freshly powdered. â€Å"The wine was from the king’s own skin,† Ser Barristan said. â€Å"Only one skin? Hunting is such thirsty work.† â€Å"I did not keep count. More than one, for a certainty. His squire would fetch him a fresh skin whenever he required it.† â€Å"Such a dutiful boy,† said Varys, â€Å"to make certain His Grace did not lack for refreshment.† Ned had a bitter taste in his mouth. He recalled the two fair-haired boys Robert had sent chasing after a breastplate stretcher. The king had told everyone the tale that night at the feast, laughing until he shook. â€Å"Which squire?† â€Å"The elder,† said Ser Barristan. â€Å"Lancel.† â€Å"I know the lad well,† said Varys. â€Å"A stalwart boy, Ser Kevan Lannister’s son, nephew to Lord Tywin and cousin to the queen. I hope the dear sweet lad does not blame himself. Children are so vulnerable in the innocence of their youth, how well do I remember.† Certainly Varys had once been young. Ned doubted that he had ever been innocent. â€Å"You mention children. Robert had a change of heart concerning Daenerys Targaryen. Whatever arrangements you made, I want unmade. At once.† â€Å"Alas,† said Varys. â€Å"At once may be too late. I fear those birds have flown. But I shall do what I can, my lord. With your leave.† He bowed and vanished down the steps, his soft-soled slippers whispering against the stone as he made his descent. Cayn and Tomard were helping Ned across the bridge when Lord Renly emerged from Maegor’s Holdfast. â€Å"Lord Eddard,† he called after Ned, â€Å"a moment, if you would be so kind.† Ned stopped. â€Å"As you wish.† Renly walked to his side. â€Å"Send your men away.† They met in the center of the bridge, the dry moat beneath them. Moonlight silvered the cruel edges of the spikes that lined its bed. Ned gestured. Tomard and Cayn bowed their heads and backed away respectfully. Lord Renly glanced warily at Ser Boros on the far end of the span, at Ser Preston in the doorway behind them. â€Å"That letter.† He leaned close. â€Å"Was it the regency? Has my brother named you Protector?† He did not wait for a reply. â€Å"My lord, I have thirty men in my personal guard, and other friends beside, knights and lords. Give me an hour, and I can put a hundred swords in your hand.† â€Å"And what should I do with a hundred swords, my lord?† â€Å"Strike! Now, while the castle sleeps.† Renly looked back at Ser Boros again and dropped his voice to an urgent whisper. â€Å"We must get Joffrey away from his mother and take him in hand. Protector or no, the man who holds the king holds the kingdom. We should seize Myrcella and Tommen as well. Once we have her children, Cersei will not dare oppose us. The council will confirm you as Lord Protector and make Joffrey your ward.† Ned regarded him coldly. â€Å"Robert is not dead yet. The gods may spare him. If not, I shall convene the council to hear his final words and consider the matter of the succession, but I will not dishonor his last hours on earth by shedding blood in his halls and dragging frightened children from their beds.† Lord Renly took a step back, taut as a bowstring. â€Å"Every moment you delay gives Cersei another moment to prepare. By the time Robert dies, it may be too late . . . for both of us.† â€Å"Then we should pray that Robert does not die.† â€Å"Small chance of that,† said Renly. â€Å"Sometimes the gods are merciful.† â€Å"The Lannisters are not.† Lord Renly turned away and went back across the moat, to the tower where his brother lay dying. By the time Ned returned to his chambers, he felt weary and heartsick, yet there was no question of his going back to sleep, not now. When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, Cersei Lannister had told him in the godswood. He found himself wondering if he had done the right thing by refusing Lord Renly’s offer. He had no taste for these intrigues, and there was no honor in threatening children, and yet . . . if Cersei elected to fight rather than flee, he might well have need of Renly’s hundred swords, and more besides. â€Å"I want Littlefinger,† he told Cayn. â€Å"If he’s not in his chambers, take as many men as you need and search every winesink and whorehouse in King’s Landing until you find him. Bring him to me before break of day.† Cayn bowed and took his leave, and Ned turned to Tomard. â€Å"The Wind Witch sails on the evening tide. Have you chosen the escort?† â€Å"Ten men, with Porther in command.† â€Å"Twenty, and you will command,† Ned said. Porther was a brave man, but headstrong. He wanted someone more solid and sensible to keep watch over his daughters. â€Å"As you wish, m’lord,† Tom said. â€Å"Can’t say I’ll be sad to see the back of this place. I miss the wife.† â€Å"You will pass near Dragonstone when you turn north. I need you to deliver a letter for me.† Tom looked apprehensive. â€Å"To Dragonstone, m’lord?† The island fortress of House Targaryen had a sinister repute. â€Å"Tell Captain Qos to hoist my banner as soon as he comes in sight of the island. They may be wary of unexpected visitors. If he is reluctant, offer him whatever it takes. I will give you a letter to place into the hand of Lord Stannis Baratheon. No one else. Not his steward, nor the captain of his guard, nor his lady wife, but only Lord Stannis himself.† â€Å"As you command, m’lord.† When Tomard had left him, Lord Eddard Stark sat staring at the flame of the candle that burned beside him on the table. For a moment his grief overwhelmed him. He wanted nothing so much as to seek out the godswood, to kneel before the heart tree and pray for the life of Robert Baratheon, who had been more than a brother to him. Men would whisper afterward that Eddard Stark had betrayed his king’s friendship and disinherited his sons; he could only hope that the gods would know better, and that Robert would learn the truth of it in the land beyond the grave. Ned took out the king’s last letter. A roll of crisp white parchment sealed with golden wax, a few short words and a smear of blood. How small the difference between victory and defeat, between life and death. He drew out a fresh sheet of paper and dipped his quill in the inkpot. To His Grace, Stannis of the House Baratheon, he wrote. By the time you receive this letter, your brother Robert, our King these past fifteen years, will be dead. He was savaged by a boar whilst hunting in the kingswood . . . The letters seemed to writhe and twist on the paper as his hand trailed to a stop. Lord Tywin and Ser Jaime were not men to suffer disgrace meekly; they would fight rather than flee. No doubt Lord Stannis was wary, after the murder of Jon Arryn, but it was imperative that he sail for King’s Landing at once with all his power, before the Lannisters could march. Ned chose each word with care. When he was done, he signed the letter Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Hand of the King, and Protector of the Realm, blotted the paper, folded it twice, and melted the sealing wax over the candle flame. His regency would be a short one, he reflected as the wax softened. The new king would choose his own Hand. Ned would be free to go home. The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran’s laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn. Cayn returned as he was pressing the direwolf seal down into the soft white wax. Desmond was with him, and between them Littlefinger. Ned thanked his guards and sent them away. Lord Petyr was clad in a blue velvet tunic with puffed sleeves, his silvery cape patterned with mockingbirds. â€Å"I suppose congratulations are in order,† he said as he seated himself. Ned scowled. â€Å"The king lies wounded and near to death.† â€Å"I know,† Littlefinger said. â€Å"I also know that Robert has named you Protector of the Realm.† Ned’s eyes flicked to the king’s letter on the table beside him, its seal unbroken. â€Å"And how is it you know that, my lord?† â€Å"Varys hinted as much,† Littlefinger said, â€Å"and you have just confirmed it.† Ned’s mouth twisted in anger. â€Å"Damn Varys and his little birds. Catelyn spoke truly, the man has some black art. I do not trust him.† â€Å"Excellent. You’re learning.† Littlefinger leaned forward. â€Å"Yet I’ll wager you did not drag me here in the black of night to discuss the eunuch.† â€Å"No,† Ned admitted. â€Å"I know the secret Jon Arryn was murdered to protect. Robert will leave no trueborn son behind him. Joffrey and Tommen are Jaime Lannister’s bastards, born of his incestuous union with the queen.† Littlefinger lifted an eyebrow. â€Å"Shocking,† he said in a tone that suggested he was not shocked at all. â€Å"The girl as well? No doubt. So when the king dies . . . â€Å" â€Å"The throne by rights passes to Lord Stannis, the elder of Robert’s two brothers.† Lord Petyr stroked his pointed beard as he considered the matter. â€Å"So it would seem. Unless . . . â€Å" â€Å"Unless, my lord? There is no seeming to this. Stannis is the heir. Nothing can change that.† â€Å"Stannis cannot take the throne without your help. If you’re wise, you’ll make certain Joffrey succeeds.† Ned gave him a stony stare. â€Å"Have you no shred of honor?† â€Å"Oh, a shred, surely,† Littlefinger replied negligently. â€Å"Hear me out. Stannis is no friend of yours, nor of mine. Even his brothers can scarcely stomach him. The man is iron, hard and unyielding. He’ll give us a new Hand and a new council, for a certainty. No doubt he’ll thank you for handing him the crown, but he won’t love you for it. And his ascent will mean war. Stannis cannot rest easy on the throne until Cersei and her bastards are dead. Do you think Lord Tywin will sit idly while his daughter’s head is measured for a spike? Casterly Rock will rise, and not alone. Robert found it in him to pardon men who served King Aerys, so long as they did him fealty. Stannis is less forgiving. He will not have forgotten the siege of Storm’s End, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dare not. Every man who fought beneath the dragon banner or rose with Balon Greyjoy will have good cause to fear. Seat Stannis on the Iron Throne and I promise yo u, the realm will bleed. â€Å"Now look at the other side of the coin. Joffrey is but twelve, and Robert gave you the regency, my lord. You are the Hand of the King and Protector of the Realm. The power is yours, Lord Stark. All you need do is reach out and take it. Make your peace with the Lannisters. Release the Imp. Wed Joffrey to your Sansa. Wed your younger girl to Prince Tommen, and your heir to Myrcella. It will be four years before Joffrey comes of age. By then he will look to you as a second father, and if not, well . . . four years is a good long while, my lord. Long enough to dispose of Lord Stannis. Then, should Joffrey prove troublesome, we can reveal his little secret and put Lord Renly on the throne.† â€Å"We?† Ned repeated. Littlefinger gave a shrug. â€Å"You’ll need someone to share your burdens. I assure you, my price would be modest.† â€Å"Your price.† Ned’s voice was ice. â€Å"Lord Baelish, what you suggest is treason.† â€Å"Only if we lose.† â€Å"You forget,† Ned told him. â€Å"You forget Jon Arryn. You forget Jory Cassel. And you forget this.† He drew the dagger and laid it on the table between them; a length of dragonbone and Valyrian steel, as sharp as the difference between right and wrong, between true and false, between life and death. â€Å"They sent a man to cut my son’s throat, Lord Baelish.† Littlefinger sighed. â€Å"I fear I did forget, my lord. Pray forgive me. For a moment I did not remember that I was talking to a Stark.† His mouth quirked. â€Å"So it will be Stannis, and war?† â€Å"It is not a choice. Stannis is the heir.† â€Å"Far be it from me to dispute the Lord Protector. What would you have of me, then? Not my wisdom, for a certainty.† â€Å"I shall do my best to forget your . . . wisdom,† Ned said with distaste. â€Å"I called you here to ask for the help you promised Catelyn. This is a perilous hour for all of us. Robert has named me Protector, true enough, but in the eyes of the world, Joffrey is still his son and heir. The queen has a dozen knights and a hundred men-at-arms who will do whatever she commands . . . enough to overwhelm what remains of my own household guard. And for all I know, her brother Jaime may be riding for King’s Landing even as we speak, with a Lannister host at his back.† â€Å"And you without an army.† Littlefinger toyed with the dagger on the table, turning it slowly with a finger. â€Å"There is small love lost between Lord Renly and the Lannisters. Bronze Yohn Royce, Ser Balon Swann, Ser Loras, Lady Tanda, the Redwyne twins . . . each of them has a retinue of knights and sworn swords here at court.† â€Å"Renly has thirty men in his personal guard, the rest even fewer. It is not enough, even if I could be certain that all of them will choose to give me their allegiance. I must have the gold cloaks. The City Watch is two thousand strong, sworn to defend the castle, the city, and the king’s peace.† â€Å"Ah, but when the queen proclaims one king and the Hand another, whose peace do they protect?† Lord Petyr flicked at the dagger with his finger, setting it spinning in place. Round and round it went, wobbling as it turned. When at last it slowed to a stop, the blade pointed at Littlefinger. â€Å"Why, there’s your answer,† he said, smiling. â€Å"They follow the man who pays them.† He leaned back and looked Ned full in the face, his grey-green eyes bright with mockery. â€Å"You wear your honor like a suit of armor, Stark. You think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down and make it hard for you to move. Look at you now. You know why you summoned me here. You know what you want to ask me to do. You know it has to be done . . . but it’s not honorable, so the words stick in your throat.† Ned’s neck was rigid with tension. For a moment he was so angry that he did not trust himself to speak. Littlefinger laughed. â€Å"I ought to make you say it, but that would be cruel . . . so have no fear, my good lord. For the sake of the love I bear for Catelyn, I will go to Janos Slynt this very hour and make certain that the City Watch is yours. Six thousand gold pieces should do it. A third for the Commander, a third for the officers, a third for the men. We might be able to buy them for half that much, but I prefer not to take chances.† Smiling, he plucked up the dagger and offered it to Ned, hilt first.

Friday, September 27, 2019

A Degree is Worth Much Less to Some Students Research Paper

A Degree is Worth Much Less to Some Students - Research Paper Example Each one of them backs his or her opinion adequately. Their essays have been causing a stir in society. This leads to the unanswered question on whether the quality of college education is worth the cost. American students spend a good fortune to pay for the highly coveted bachelor’s degree. However, there are varying opinions on whether the benefits of college of education surpass the cost. A critical analysis of the system indicates that college education does not guarantee students a better future and a great career. On the contrary, some graduates end up in desperation after college and the degree does not seem to help them maneuver their way out to success. I support Murray’s assertion that students have varied learning abilities. College education does not take notice of this fact but rather admits all willing students for degree programs. Although colleges consider basic academic qualifications, the selection criterion admits some students who end up struggling t o cope with the four-year system. These spend more than the required four years in college because they retake some parts of the contents. After struggling for a long time, they still graduate without an honor’s degree. Since they do not excel, the many years investment does not bear any fruit. University education promises students too much than it can offer.... These students feel wasted by the university education because it does not keep its promise in offering them better opportunities. American higher education is expensive and students joining higher education institutions such as colleges and universities part with a good fortune in order to obtain a degree or diploma. Some students get loans and grants to be able to pay for their tuition fees. These loans and grants are payable, most of the time with interest. Some students take more than four years in higher education courses, translating to an increased spending. Students take the risk of getting study loans because they believe that a degree will place them in a better position in society. However, the truth is that graduates do not always get good jobs. Therefore, they cannot repay their loans and they remain in debt. Situations compel such students to alter lifestyle preferences in order to be able to repay the loans. At this point of their lives, the only returns from college e ducation are regrets and desperation. Bright students coming from rich families are the only ones who do not feel the pinch of the rising cost of education. After a long struggle to cope with the degree curriculum, some students decide to quit. Quitting marks an end to the career path they were trying to establish. After having wasted funds probably from a loan or the family’s savings, the individual quits. Funds and time wasted in a lost battle depress the individual. He or she has to start to start from scratch to rebuild their lives. The reasons for quitting lie in the nature of the university education system. The system practically drains some students. The courses are too demanding and the students cannot put up with the pressure of exams in higher education institutions.

Thursday, September 26, 2019

Carry Trade Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words - 1

Carry Trade - Essay Example e all too apparent that in the globalised and networked economies, no country can consider itself safe, if there are adverse signals from one corner of the world. Carry trade is termed to be an important factor in such a scenario, which has led to cascading effects for majority of exporters and manufacturers of cars and electronic products. While on the one hand exports are down and production are down, on the other hand a large number of job losses is causing further slide in economy. This raises the curiosity about the importance of carry trade in this scenario. Carry trade, as the name suggests is the trading activity that one indulges by carrying forward the returns or losses of the holdings by an individual or a business entity. Yen has been a popular instrument amongst the trading community as an important tool for holding foreign exchange and dealing in financial transactions. Selling the Yen at lower interest rates and then using the funds for purchasing higher interest curre ncies like dollar or pounds would yield considerable profits. Such a carry trade prospered, with the hope of sustaining the higher swap ratio and lower interest rates on Yen. But, with western economies reeling under recession, the Yen has considerably become strong, resulting in some loss making propositions for Carry trades. This has brought the issue of carry trade in focus. This study is an effort towards analyzing the trends in Carry trade over the years and its impact on the economic conditions of different countries. An effort will also be made to foresee the futuristic trends while analysing and comparing the development of the markets. Economic activities, financial services, and banking have experienced quite a few changes in the last couple of decades. With the opening up of economies, the industrial activities saw an upsurge on global scale. The financial system around the world also saw need to have a matching regulatory mechanism. The exchange rates became more

Is our planet in trouble Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

Is our planet in trouble - Essay Example Diamandis does acknowledge that the world does indeed face numerous challenges; however, advancements in technology by virtue of Moore’s Law, increase in the number of people entering into the Internet and increased funding of innovation by techno-philanthropists are some of the factors that will lead to the development of solutions to these global challenges. The arguments raised by Gilding and Diamandis have their merits and demerits. Gilding looks at situation from a more conservative perspective and uses pessimism or more rightly fear to push us towards incorporating environmental sustainability in all our endeavors. Diamandis on the other hand is more liberal and uses optimism or opportunities to push us towards seeking innovative solutions to facing our current global challenges. Ultimately, though, we do agree with Gilding that we have to incorporate environmental sustainability in all our endeavors. The unarguable fact is humanity does need what nature provides (â€Å"Footprint Basics - Overview†). We do need resources derived from nature to build the technology needed to face our global challenges. So, yes, technology can save us from ecological overshoot however we do need the ecology first in order to build the

Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Grammy Nominees Research Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words - 1

Grammy Nominees - Research Paper Example Call me maybe is a modern pop that has so much giddiness of teenage. Carly Rae Jepsen was infatuated. The song had to make it to Grammys nomination list. Rock song of the year I will wait for you by Mumford and Sons the single is enough to make you anxious for the release of the whole album. It’s one song you want to listen to as a lullaby and when feeling lonely too. With its shouting chorus mesmerizing percussion and unique banjo, you do not want to miss it yourself. Freedom at 21 by jack white is good for the craziness in this song, I mean what an adult wishes to do is very amazing, making the song not only attractive but good. If you have not listened to the song madness then you are in for a great surprise. This is a nice song courtesy of the band. Beautiful surprise by Tamia makes it to the top as the r n b of the year. Tamia’s voice beautiful will mesmerize you. Her sings of how she misses her love and the emotional connection. This makes the song such a darling to lovers. Adorn another song whereby Miguel wants to show his girl how special she is to him. Probably his funs are women whom he impressed in the song. The oak and pop produced track sounds like it is made of a hootenanny with the loud violin playing. Elle Varner scratchy voice makes the song a nice soul. Apparently, Jay z and Kanye West made the song n***s in Paris a special one. The song was performed ten times in Paris gaining momentum with the funs and making its way to the top in Grammys. The song is an interesting one. A fusion of hip-hop and dent converts so be sure to check it out too. Lil Wayne and drake released yet another hip hop romance along with Tyga. It is all new, drake and lil Wayne not too obvious and leave you surprised. Snoop dog, wiz Khalifa and Bruno mars young wild and free. This hip hop song has been charmed up with a newcomer wiz Khalifa; Snoop dog also unleashes his youthful charm resulting into a new cool music. Blown

Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Views on Gender Roles Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Views on Gender Roles - Essay Example Much of what we learn about gender occurs during our formative years, and it is largely a product of our culture. Mothers and fathers tend to reinforce gender roles in developing children, such as rewarding a boy for achieving in sports, or praising a girl for helping around the house. Because an individual’s culture, background, and upbringing play such a critical role in the development of views on gender, it comes as no surprise that gender views vary greatly. Each individual’s view on gender is unique, but it is not difficult to see that some general statements can be made about an individual’s view on gender based on the characteristics of that individual. Perhaps this holds true because the individual’s view on gender is largely learned from those around him or her, and the people in an individual’s sphere of influence often tend to have similar characteristics. Based on the cross-tabulation provided with the Starks textbook, I used the 2000 General Social Survey data to compare views on the wife at home, presumably in the traditional â€Å"stay-at-home mom† sense, though the website does not give information as to the specific wording of the survey itself (which could have made a difference in the results). The question of whether the wife should be at home was compared by gender, age group, education, income of the family, political party, region, did the mother work when the respondent was a child, and the religion. The results give us insight into how groups of varying characteristics feel about gender. Surprisingly, and most likely a dramatic change over the last fifty years, when questioned, men and women responded very similarly to the question, with 60.1% of females and 58.1% of males disagreeing with the statement. Only a 2% difference is shown between genders, and this small difference becomes even less significant when taken in

Sunday, September 22, 2019

Case Study Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1500 words - 15

Case Study - Essay Example She has already been availing the benefits of a bi-cultural worker and this may have helped her to some extent because she is already on the way to inclusion in early childhood(Grisham brown et al, 2005). Rayan’s teacher in the baby class has provided some important information about her habits. Firstly, she appears to share a good relationship with her father because she enjoys gardening with him during the weekends. Secondly, the teacher also informs that she likes playing with dolls and smiles at other children but does not actively play with them. Both of Rayan’s parents want their child to be more actively involved with her peers and to interact with them. Relevant issues which may need to be taken into account in terms of preparing an effective plan of action would be the Disability Standards of 2005, which have mandated that all students must be accorded more or less the same treatment and have equal access to educational facilities and learning. Since Rayan is hearing impaired, she has a disability and as a result, applying the provisions of the Disability Standards may require some adjustments to be made, such that Rayan can be treated on par with the other non disabled students she is in class with. It may be necessary to consider how best Rayan’s hearing impairment can be tackled and compensated for so that she does not miss out on any of the learning activities. In order to achieve higher levels of participation from the child, it may be vital to ensure that measures are put into place to deal with the hearing impairment, so that conditions are created which will facilitate interaction between Rayan and the other childre n. While the FM receiver has been used in the baby classes and Rayan has also enjoyed the support of a bi-cultural worker, this does not appear to have translated into higher levels of social interaction. The major objective that needs to be achieved in Rayan’s case is to ensure

Saturday, September 21, 2019

Doing Business in Japan Essay Example for Free

Doing Business in Japan Essay As a result of learning about the geography, climate, history, religion, cultural rituals, politics, education system, and the role of the family; it will allow a business or business person the insight needed to understand how society functions and the method in which business is conducted. Geography Climate Japan is an island nation that is located across the Japanese Sea. Japan consists of the islands of Hokkaiodo, Honshu, Shikoku, and Kyushu (Yamada Kurashige, 2003). The landscape of Japan is seventy-one percent mountainous (Population Demographics, 2007). Japan is a small country that is situated in the northern temperate zone. Japan experiences the four seasons similar to that of North America. Japan experiences typhoons which are a lot stronger than their sister hurricanes in the Atlantic (Yamada Kurashige, 2003). Religion Over eighty-four percent of the people in Japan observe Buddhism, Shinto or a combination of both. Confucianism from China added loyalty and hierarchy to the mix, and Taoism gave order and sanction to the system of government. The introduction of Buddhism brought contemplative religious aspects and helped to develop their culture of art and architecture. With the addition of Christianity, western ideas most importantly social justice and reform were infused into society (Long, 1994). Religion is not a large part of the Japanese society, but people will usually practice such holidays as birthdays, weddings and funerals (Japan, 2007). Recent History Japan went through major change during the World War II, when most of their cities and infrastructure was damaged or destroyed. After the war, they drafted a new constitution and the population of Japan began rebuilding the country. In only a few decades, Japan become the second largest economy in the world. In the 1990s, Japan suffered and economic down turn because of scandals and over-investment. The Asian economic crisis of 1998 caused Japan to experience its worst recession since World War II (Japan: History, 2007). From 2003 onward the economy has been improving, even surpassing at one point, that of the United States and E. U. (Economy of Japan, 2007). Current Issues in Japan Political Issues All foreigners entering the country are to be fingerprinted and photographed in a recent effort to fight terrorism. Also, airlines and ships must provide passenger lists before arriving in the country. Some may be very reluctant to have their photograph and fingerprints taken. Passenger lists may be time consuming and costly for cruise lines or freight vessels that wish to enter the country. There is pressure from the United States, for Japan to resume refueling of foreign vessels in the Indian Ocean, however there is much opposition within the Japanese government. This opposition may lead to tension between Japan and the United States. This could lead to some negative consequences for United States-Japan trade. (Chief, 2007). The Japanese government has sent a senior foreign minister to Iran to inquire about the kidnapping of Satoshi Nakamura, a Japanese student, more than a month ago. The Iranian Government is ignoring Japan, forcing the Japanese minister to Pakistan to ask for help in this matter (Official release, 2007). This will only negatively affect Iranian-Japanese relations. Social Issues Twenty percent of Japans population is age sixty or older. At the same time, the country has had a declining birthrate for a few decades. The population of Japan peaked in 2004 and started to decrease afterwards. The reasoning given is that that more women are working and they do not see it necessary to have children. (Japan fertility, 2005). One blogger notes that women may be insecure about having children (Coco, 2006). The shortage of labour will force more older men to stay in the work force as well as force more women into the business world. Economic Issues Japans declining birthrate is a major concern for the Japanese economy. The country needs to maintain a healthy population to keep its economy strong; this is proving very difficult (Atsumi, 2007). One foreseen problem of the low fertility rate is that the already suffering social pension fund could be crippled further (Japan fertility, 2005). The Tax Commission has found that taxes must be raised in order the finance the growing social welfare costs. People in Japan are purchasing portable technology, and the Japanese market is showing a sharp decline in purchase of home computers. With the high costs of home computers and the advances in technology could mean a shift in how people use and access the internet. The companies that produce home computers are now shifting their focus to the developing world (PCs, 2007). Social Organization Family Japanese families moved away from their traditional family structures after World War II when the occupying American forces created a new, Western, family ideology. The father still remains the head of most traditional families in Japan, but there are shifts in how a Japanese family is organized. Women, who would have remained at home to manage the household affairs, are now obtaining employment outside of the household. Since more Japanese women are entering the workforce, the men are being required to take on more of the household and child raising responsibilities (Long, 1994). Another change that has occurred in Japanese society is the idea of the multi-generation family living together. Although common at one time, many elderly people are not living with their families anymore (Family, 2007). Roles of Men and Women Japan was traditional a male centered society. However, shortly after World War II women were legally given equal rights as men. A great change came when women started to work outside the household. Companies in Japan were, and still are, desperate for skilled workers, and with participation of women in the workforce, it helped companies fill their need for workers (Matsui, 2007). Workplace In the workplace, as in other areas of the Japanese collectivist culture, they view themselves as part of a group. Workers are expected to show the utmost loyalty to the firms they work for. Leadership in Japan is not based on a Western values of assertiveness or quick decision making. A good leader in Japan is expected to take the interests of his subordinates into account and create consensus among the group. Seniority within a group is determined by age and length of service, rather than by individual effort and initiative (Genezberger et al. , 1996). Their system of group management rewards the team effort and rarely the individual. Often accomplishments are credited to the entire group and not the individual. Individuals are motivated to participate in group activities and maintain harmony. The pride of the individual or the group is expressed through competition with similar groups in the company or other companies (Long, 1994). Proper Etiquette for Doing Business in Japan Perception of Westerners The Japanese have some common preconceived notions about Westerners. Japanese see Westerners as lacking patience, often interrupting, and being bad listeners. They often see Westerners as being unable to work in teams. They may seeWestern expressions of friendship as insincere. Japanese may sometimes perceive Westerners as being selfish. Business Etiquette Protocol In Japanese culture personal space is highly respected, they are not a tactile people, and they dislike being crowded. In Japanese culture they try to avoid direct eye contact with other individuals. When yawning, coughing, or using a toothpick, they cover their mouths. The pointing of feet at another person is considered to be rude, and is therefore important to sit with correct posture. Criticizing and disrespecting authority openly, and being impatient are seen as disrespectful. In business, the personal relationships are far more important than the business itself. In order to do business with a company in Japan formal introductions, patience, flexibility, and respect are vital. Business cards are very important in Japanese business culture, and business people often carry many business cards. When meeting a business contact for the first time it is important to bow, or shake hands, then exchange business cards. When presenting or receiving a business card one is expected to use both hands and put it in a pocket, above the waist, after carefully reading it. For foreigners, it is common practice to have a Japanese translation on the back of the card (Genezberger et al. , 1996). Men and women are expected to wear are dark and expensive suits. Business women are encouraged to wear conservatively. Business meetings must be scheduled far in advanced. Before the meeting, Westerners should mail or fax a detailed list outlining what is to be discussed. One must establish relationships with middle and junior level managers or they may resent the person for having bypassed them and feel they have been insulted. When visiting a Japanese company it is customary to remove ones jacket immediately upon entering and putting it back on as soon as one leave. The leader of the group should introduce each of the group members in descending order of rank. Visitors are to exchange business first with the Japanese executives and then with subordinates in descending order. In the Japanese culture there is an expectation of receiving a gift at the first meeting. The presentation of the gift can be as or more important that the actual gift itself. Gifts must be given with both hands, and are often rejected a few times before they are accepted. Gifts are not opened when they are received. Certain flowers or potted plants do not make suitable gifts because of the meaning the Japanese associate with them. It is recommended to inform that one informs they are giving a gift beforehand (Roberts. 2007). Socializing ; Eating Japanese extend their affinity to their groups by socializing outside of work (Long, 1996). Japanese men and women are considered heavy drinkers. Incorrect behaviour while drunk is often forgiven. In Japan it is not expected for one to leave a tip for their servers. In restaurants, where sitting on the group is required, is common practice for men to sit cross-legged and women to sit on their legs or with their legs off to one side. Communication High context High context and low context are two terms used to describe broad differences between cultures. High context cultures are those where the main aspects of the culture are vague and not explicit. Generally collective cultures tend to be high-context, where much of what is being said is non-verbal, and the level of understanding depends on your relationship with the other party. Japan is a prime example of a high context culture (Beer, 2003). â€Å"Face† Saving face means preserving your or someone else’s dignity, self-respect, or good reputation. In cultures that are high-context â€Å"face† is a major characteristic. There are many ways that a person might cause the other individual to lose face. Derogatory remarks, reveling of personal inadequacy, or being forced to compromise a cherished value are ways in which â€Å"face† is broken (Face, 2007). Avoiding a loss of â€Å"face† generally means never saying â€Å"no,† and being politely evasive when conveying disagreement (Face, 2007). Greetings When conducting business in Japan, it is very important to know the proper amount of respect owed to individuals. Japan has a very formal and ritualized culture. Bowing is the Japanese custom greeting. How far you bow depends on your relationship with the other individual (Genezberger ; et al. , 1996). If you were to be greeted for the first time in Japan, it is recommended that one waits to be introduced, since it can be seen as being rude to introduce oneself. Foreigners may be only expected to bow their head slightly or shake hands (Doing Business, 2007). Practical Considerations Immigration In an effort to counter terrorism, all foreigners will be finger printed and photographed when entering the country. Japan has an agreement with some countries where only passports are required to enter. Foreigner tourists are required to carry their passports at all times. A visa required if one plans on extending their stay over 90 days. It usually takes about two days to a week to obtain a Visa, depending on the situation at the embassy you are applying. A single visa costs 3000 yen to obtain. Certain countries have exemptions from paying fees. (A Guide, 2007). Travel When traveling in Japan it is recommended that one does not travel long distances, because of cost. However, traveling long distance one can travel by train, highway bus, airplane, or long distances ferries. Renting a car is another possibility for travel. Accommodations For single travelers the prices of hotel rooms will vary depending on the traveler’s budget. The price range for inexpensive business hotels would cost between 3,500 and 7,000 yen per day. For more expensive business hotels, or Western style hotels the prices can be from 7,000 yen and above. Adaptation and Survival Public washrooms rarely have toilet paper, so one should bring their own. It is important to ask for a toi, short for toilet, not a bathroom, otherwise one may be directed to a room for bathing. When traveling, it is polite to store your backpack or luggage out of the way of other travelers (Haslam, 2002). Heath ; Emergencies All households are required to have a survival kit in case of an earthquake. Japan Travel, 2007). English speaking hospitals and services may not be covered by Japanese national health insurance, and could end up costing visitors money (Rogers, 1994). Conclusion Japan is a very collectivist culture and it very apparently in everyday business dealings. To a Western business person business protocol and etiquette may seem very unusual. It is im portant to understand that their traditions and customs are deeply rooted in their history. However, Japanese people view Western business practices just as unusual, but they are very accommodating to foreign business people. References