As she stars in this years Christmas feelgood movie, Emilia Clarke talks about the intense scrutiny of Game of Thrones, how she coped with the brain hemorrhage that virtually killed her and why we all need to escape reality sometimes
Emilia Clarke had a headache. It was 2011, just before Valentine’s Day and just after she’d wrapped on the first serial of Game of Thrones , playing Daenerys Targaryen, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragon. She didn’t yet know, as she crawled into the locker room of her neighbourhood gym in north London and upchuck bile into the toilet, that Game of Thrones would run for seven further seasons, break Emmy-award records for most prevails for a scripted television series and for a drama, be referred one of the greatest Tv testifies of all time, and quickly come to define her. But there was much she didn’t know.
She didn’t know that at 24 she had suffered a life-threatening stroking, a subarachnoid haemorrhage( SAH) caused by bleeding into the space bordering the brain. She didn’t know, as she lay on the floor reiterating strands from Game of Thrones in order to better experiment her recall, that a third of SAH cases die immediately, or that those who survive compel urgent management to avoid a second, often lethal bleed. She didn’t know there was another distend blood vessel in her mentality, which had doubled in sizing by the time she finished filming season three. She didn’t know that one day, eight years later, over biscuits on her pink sofa, she would be smiling with the dark realisation that her apoplexy was one of the best things that could have happened to her.
Her pink sofa is in her pink home, which is also green and off-color and muted subtleties of rust-brown, and has a secret bar hidden in a courtyard molted, and an outdoor screening room heated by a wood-burning stove. To walk into her front room, where one corner is covered with a represent relating to her mum, another to her late father, and a third with a meaningful dragon, is to enter the cosiest corner of Clarke’s attention. By the stairs, horsehair is visible in the plaster; the walls are deprived back to the bone. She pictures me round with a raw sort of glee, a sense that her comfort and safety are fastened into the details: the friends’ artistry on the walls, the “single girl’s” bedroom. She moved in after Game of Thrones ; in this and many courses, her life can be flawlessly dissected into before and after.
Before, Clarke , now 33, who grew up in Oxfordshire, had appeared in a single episode of the daytime soap Doctors . She was ambitious, rosy and relentlessly joyous. After, after Game of Thrones , and the death of her leader, which shook her family, as did her life-threatening stroke, she is sitting on her pink sofa and envisaging a decade that changed her.