This post contains spoilers and discussion of the Season 5 Finale.
My name is Kate Maltby, I’m a feminist, and I’m addicted to Game of Thrones.
I’ve known I’ve had a problem for some time, really. It all started at the end of Season 3. Languidly cat-sitting for a friend (this is what all feminists do on our weekends), I discovered that she had the last three episodes of Season 3 taped. I knew the show was famous for turning woman into nude pin cushions, but this didn’t count as watching, obviously. More like passing the time. Anyway, I had a cold at the time, so I was ill. It was allowed.
When I binged my way through Seasons 4 and 5, counting down the days until each Monday night, it wasn’t really addiction. It was cultural criticism. You have to know your patriarchal enemy. I only went back and watched Season 1 to help me navigate – I’ve never even watched Season 2 or most of Season 3, which I asserted until recently as proof positive I don’t have a problem.
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