As far as I could tell, there’s only one throne, which raises the question of why the show is called Game of Thrones and not just Game of Throne

WARNING: THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS WHAT I ASSUME ARE SPOILERS.

I am not a Game of Thrones fan.

I tried to get into it a while ago, but the first episodes felt to me like a combination of violence porn and porn porn. With every severed head and gratuitous sex scene, the show’s creators seemed to be saying: “Forget your sanitized Lord of the Rings – this is how things really were back then,” an argument that made no sense because they’re both made up.

Many people explained to me that it wasn’t about the swords and sorcery; the show was truly about politics. Which made me want to watch it even less.

Was the Game of Thrones finale the cheesiest ending in TV history? Read more

But with the final episode looming, I didn’t want to miss what was clearly a major cultural moment. So I decided to watch it, despite the fact that I’d have no idea what was going on. And to my surprise, it was actually pretty moving – angry fan petitions be damned.

It began with a “previously on Game of Thrones” segment. I thought this might clue me in to some of what was going on, but it was just a bunch of faces looking sad. I knew I was in for a wild ride.

After some images of castles made out of cardboard, the show opened on another sad face, this time belonging to the guy from The Station Agent. He sadly walked among the ruins of a city, looking sad. This was the first instance of Gloomy Trudging, a central theme of the episode.

The presence of what appeared to be the Liberty Bell clued me in that this was probably Philadelphia, and Peter Dinklage was understandably devastated by the loss of an icon of American history. Dinklage descended into the chamber of secrets and found two people in the wreckage, one of whom seemed to have a gold hand. This made him even sadder.

Outside, it was clear who had won the war. It’s someone who I once thought, based on general exposure to culture, was named Khaleesi, but who appeared in this episode to be named Dany. Nearby stood Jon Snow, another character whom it is impossible not to recognize if you exist in the world. There were also dragons. The way people rhapsodize about this show’s dragons, you’d think HBO invented them.

Jon Snow looked troubled. Little did I know that this is how he would look for the rest of the episode, and probably has looked for the entire series. I soon learned one source of his troubledness: based on a conversation he had with Dinklage, a compelling actor struggling to do a proper English accent, it seems Jon and Dany had been or still were a thing. “Love is the death of duty,” Snow told Dinklage – wise words which I was prepared to admire until he admitted he stole them from Maester Eamonn (sp?), so, like, whatever.

“Duty is the death of love,” replied Dinklage, possibly referring to the point in a marriage where you go to the bathroom with the door open.

But it seems what he really meant was: kill your girlfriend. In the next scene, Khaleesi approached what I know from Parks and Recreation is the Iron Throne. You could tell the scene was extremely important because there was a single female voice singing nonsense syllables in an ethereal manner.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Peter Dinklage all but nominated George RR Martin for king. Photograph: AP

Emilia Clarke seemed almost as entranced by the throne as Ben Wyatt was when Leslie Knope gave him a replica of it. But this was the real deal: the actual throne. Also, as far as I could tell, the only throne, which raised the question of why the show is called Game of Thrones and not just Game of Throne. Anyway, Dany and Jon had a lofty conversation about the nature of goodness, and then he killed her.

This was pretty predictable, even to a non-fan. In epic movies, when characters who are romantically entwined but morally opposed kiss, one of them always kills the other and feels really bad about it – but, you know, duty is the death of love. Still, the scene had an emotional impact, especially for the sad dragon who showed up and melted the throne. Game over.

But not quite: first, Peter Dinklage wanted to make the case for a new king or queen. Having rejected Khaleesi, he was hauled out in front of some kind of council to learn his punishment. They all debated the future of the kingdom, and one guy – an affable fellow at the far left – briefly invented democracy. “Maybe the decision about what’s best for everyone should be left to, well, everyone,” he said. This prompted a hearty laugh from fellow members of the city council.

Dinklage had a better idea. “What unites people?” he asked. “Armies? Gold? Flags? Stories. There’s nothing in the world more powerful than a good story.” It sounded like he was about to nominate George RR Martin to be the new king. Or maybe, just maybe, he was telling us that the author was the true king all along.

The Station Agent ended up nominating the kid who was not saying anything, and highlighting his many names: Brandon of House Stark, Bran the Broken, Bran of Raisin, etc. The lords and ladies agreed, and there was a new king.

So all these wars, all this violence, all this nudity – and all it took to resolve things, in the end, was an overwrought speech about the show itself. Oh, and the north is independent because someone said so. Couldn’t all this have happened in the first episode?

Still, I’m a sucker for these things, and despite having no investment in these characters, I found myself getting genuinely choked up as Jon Snow bid goodbye to important-seeming people. It was the end of an era, in Westeros and on Earth. I was not involved in the era, but it felt like I had been.

I still have no idea what an Unsullied is, though. So I’m going to give the show one more try.