Mad Men’s Too-Visible Man
Don Draper, non-enigma
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Don Draper, non-enigma
I confess that since I wrote about Mad Men for Harper’s in January 2012, I haven’t missed Don Draper and his colleagues, their spouses, or even Kiernan Shipka, the very good actor who plays Draper’s daughter. This isn’t because I avoid TV. The Wire, Deadwood, Breaking Bad, Boardwalk Empire, Game of Thrones; I’ve watched or am watching them all. But I disliked Mad Men’s over-careful detail, its self-conscious puffing on cigarettes, its glossy fashion lust, its signal political moments too loudly signalled — all veneered into intellectual and dramatic respectability as serious social comment.
Endless articles are appearing as the show’s new season starts, earnestly discussing how and what Mad Men tells us about the Fifties and Sixties, the attitude to women and work, the sociology of the times. I remember the times quite well, and mostly what I saw in the series was puppetry, rather stiff in its groping for authenticity; a too-satisfied sense of the superiority of our own present; and an overriding commitment to pleasing the eye.
But I am intrigued by the hold Mad Men has retained and the way excitement for the new season has been built. “The man on everyone’s lips is back,” states the knowing retro advertisement that aired here on Sky Atlantic. While his colleagues, wives, and mistresses mythologize the Don against a backdrop of 1960s Manhattan skyscrapers, a silhouette plummets, as it has done at the beginning of each episode. We know that by the end of the series, Don Draper will take a fall. The graphic is part homage to the opening titles of North By Northwest, and part cipher for a Madison Avenue that existed to spin the ordinary into the raging desire that capitalism needs in order to function. I imagine, too, that the the image was intended to be similar to the iconic photo of the 9/11 falling man. If you’re trying to tell a story to an early-twenty-first-century American audience about mid-twentieth-century American commercial optimism and political and social confusion, the rise and destruction of the Twin Towers will be part of it.
But like the ad, everything about the series is too managed, too unsubtle. The other characters imposed on the towering facades describe Draper as a moody, unknowable mystery. They speak what is supposed to be our desire for and confusion about the man. “Who knows anything about that guy?” “What’s he like?” “He’s kind inside.” “He hates me.” “You love him. Everybody loves him.” “It’s just the way he is.” “Creative director.” “Fraud.” “Partner.” “Liar.” “Father.” “Criminal.” “Husband.” “Hey!” the advertisement fairly shouts, “Look, we’ve created an enigma!” And yet Don Draper’s story, foreshadowed by the silhouette’s trajectory, is so transparent you can see the empty sky through it.
“Are you alone?” a woman asks Draper in a bar. He turns slowly to look at her, to size her up and give us slowcoaches time to catch an existential undertone straining to lend weight to an airy romantic fiction.
More from Jenny Diski:
Fleming awoke in the dark and his room felt loose, sloshing so badly he gripped the bed. From his window there was nothing but a hallway, and if he craned his neck, a blown lightbulb swung into view. The room pitched up and down and for a moment he thought he might be sick. The word “hallway” must have a nautical name. Why didn’t they supply a glossary for this cruise? Probably they had, in the welcome packet he’d failed to read. A glossary. A history of the boat, which would be referred to as a ship. Sunny biographies of the captain and crew, who had always dreamed of this life. Lobotomized histories of the islands they’d visit. Who else had sailed this way. Famous suckwads from the past, slicing through this very water on wooden longships.
A welcome packet, the literary genre most likely to succeed in the new millennium. Why not read about a community you don’t belong to, that doesn’t actually exist, a captain and crew who are, in reality, if that isn’t too much of a downer on your vacation, as indifferent to one another as any set of co-employees at an office or bank? Read doctored personal statements from underpaid crew members — because ocean life pays better than money! — who hate their lives but have been forced to buy into the mythology of working on a boat, separated now from loved ones and friends, growing lonelier by the second, even while they wait on you and follow your every order.
Rank of Detroit among major U.S. cities whose residents give the largest portion of their income to charity:
A South Dakota researcher concluded that only scant blood spatter results when chain saws are used to dismember pigs.
Four people were arrested for using a remote-controlled hexacopter to fly two pounds of tobacco to prisoners inside the yard at Calhoun State Prison in Georgia.
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Our congratulations to Alice Munro, winner of the 2013 Nobel Prize for Literature