Mad Men: season 5, episode 11

Female liberation: what would it take to make you a queen?

As the fifth season of Mad Men nears its conclusion and 1966 gives way to '67, we look back on a series that has largely done away with what was once its characteristic slowness, in which relationships would for the most part develop gradually and characters would reveal themselves, and their pasts, at a more glacial pace. It was inevitable that once many of the main protagonists' secrets - and more plainly, personalities - had come to light over six years, the show would have to compensate much of its intrigue-building for action. It appeared for a while that Season Five's narrative would be character based - here we have the Betty episode; now the Pete, then the Roger show - and one by one their public personas would seem more lacquered as the inner workings of every character were thoroughly and systematically mined.

But the writers of Mad Men are not so formulaic, and "The Other Woman", as much as any episode before it, invites our comparison between those three women it concerns. For all its shock happenings, too, it's an episode that develops themes from its previous one. In "Christmas Waltz" Jaguar was set up as the prize the agency has long desired, and that Don, for his own self worth, must achieve. Now it's not only the needed account, nor just the perfect symbol of American consumerism, but an unattainable woman - the other woman - "the mistress who'll do things your wife won't". Herb Rennet, the Head of the Dealership Association (with a name like an industrial farming product), calls it a "hot red number". But his eye isn't on the car - it's on Joan. She has become the material good: "You're talking about prostitution," she spits at Pete, who corrects her: "I'm talking about business at a very high level." Hence why she makes an appointment later to see him, and he confuses her "ability to perform" for the client with the creative's presentation. 

These two performances then play out simultaneously; we see Joan enter the man's hotel room wearing the fur stole Roger gave her in 1955, bought from a young Don Draper. It's a thoroughly depressing montage, with Don's narration on the worth of a beauitful object, the behaviour that would be forgiven for it - though in fact it's earlier, as Joan's initial fury at her male colleagues ebbs away, than we feel the most despair. Despite his Cleopatra allegory Pete is as foul as the client Herb, who has his own garbled tales of the Sultan of Arabia and Helen of Troy. And in their acceptance, once the price for her has been agreed, the other partners (bar Don) are just as implicted: Lane makes sure he needn't approach the creditors, Roger accepts but refuses to pay, and even Burt's "let her know she can still say no," presupposes Joan's consent. We recall Lakshmi from the previous episode, the Hare Krishna who has sex with Harry Crane "for the movement".  But it's a line of Don's, from when he visits Joan at her apartment, that rings out true: "If we don't get Jaguar, so what? Who wants to be in business with poeple like that?" The line is played twice - we hear Don speak it again when we learn his visit is too late. In her face there's the suggestion that Joan would have acted differently had she known Don was not complicit in the partners' barter. "You're a good one, aren't you?" she says to him. But the others in "the movement", this business she has just sold herself into, are not.

Joan's refusal to shake Pete's hand when she agrees to his offer strangely forshadow's Don's refusal to take Peggy's. Instead, in a most tender act, he kisses it for the longest time. Earlier in another reference to the prostitution of Joan, Don tells Peggy to get herself to Paris and throws money in her face. Now, he offers it sincerely to make her stay - but unlike for Joan, "there's no number" he can name. In the end she doesn't leave out of spite; it's "not a game"; she does it "for her career". And although she's moving on from the company, Peggy is still Don's protégé: doing what he would do, braving the future with a smile, and unresenting.

Which begs the question: will Megan, too, break free of Don when she finally gets a part in a broadway play? She already "comes and goes as she pleases," Ginsberg says, and in her audition dress Don he knows she acts for her confidence more than his pleasure. While Megan has sex with him in his office, her friend Julia helpfully acts another literal Jaguar, prowling on the boardroom desk. Which car is Megan: the Jaguar mistress, the beauty Don wishes to truly own? Or the wifely Buick, patiently parked in the garage?

Unlike Peggy, Megan says that between the man - Don - and her work, she would choose the man and resent him for it. Over the course of "The Other Woman" we see a group of women making a choice (though for Megan it is theoretical) against their heart and will, for the sake of their job. In Joan's case, as a single working mother, the notion of "choice" raises questions that persist to this day: how free is she in choosing not to buy for herself autonomy, in the form of a company stake at the cost of her body, that she would never otherwise be afforded? Is it altogether priceless, being made a queen?

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Peggy Olson in "The Other Woman". Credit: AMC

Alice Gribbin is a Teaching-Writing Fellow at the Iowa Writers' Workshop. She was formerly the editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

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Putin's vote-winning trick? He makes power personal

Representatives in the Russian parliament, the Duma, have long been unpopular. Yet President Putin is immune to voter's discontent.

A week before Russia’s parliamentary elections, the central square in Ekaterinburg – the fourth-largest city in Russia, a thousand miles east of Moscow – was packed with people, huddling close on a wet September night. They faced a stage decorated with a poster imploring the crowd to vote for “ours”, meaning United Russia, Vladimir Putin’s political party.

Yet it wasn’t politics for which thousands of people had braved the rain – it was music. During the perestroika and glasnost years of post-Soviet openness, Ekaterinburg was the cradle of the Russian rock scene. The home-grown bands Nautilus Pompilius, Chaif and Agata Kristi sang about freedom and change. Thus, this free concert to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the legendary Sverdlovsk Rock Club was bound to draw a crowd, and United Russia latched on to that.

A message from Dmitry Medvedev, the United Russia leader, praising local rock bands for their bravery “in those days when freedom was in deficit”, was read to the assembled fans. If freedom was a powerful word thirty years ago it has little impact on Russians today. Turnout in the election on 18 September was less than 50 per cent (and only 41.5 per cent in the Ekaterinburg region), a sign of the general political apathy. Before they went to the polls, it was hard to find anyone who was enthusiastic about voting.

“Why should I bother with voting? The result is clear: United Russia will, as always, win,” says Vyacheslav Bakhtin, who owns a small construction company in Ekaterinburg. He added: “Elections are the last thing on my mind. My business has been suffering for the last two years. We couldn’t even afford to go on a family vacation this summer.”

The Russian economy is struggling because of low oil prices, trade embargoes and geopolitical concerns. There have been public spending cuts, and the free float of the rouble led to currency devaluation and high inflation (7 per cent in August). Unemployment is rising and the base interest rate is 10.5 per cent.

There are many reasons for Russians to want a change in government, yet it appears that people do not see the link between their daily struggles and Putin’s policies.

Anna Mikhailova has recently returned from a tour of the Golden Ring of Russia (a circuit of medieval cities to the north-east of Moscow), where there is a stark contrast between the restored onion-domed churches and the crumbling villages.

“People live in poverty in crammed kummunalki [Soviet-style communal flats with several families sharing one kitchen and bathroom],” she tells me. “But they still talk about Putin the Saviour, standing up for Mother Russia.”

Apart from United Russia, 13 parties were judged eligible to stand, but the range of choice was an illusion. Olga, who requested anonymity for her own safety, explained. “We have one party – United Russia – a few pseudo-opposition parties, the Communists, the LDPR and Fair Russia who support Putin’s cause, and a bunch of nobodies that people don’t care about.”

Indeed, Gennady Zyuganov, who has led the Communist Party since 1993, campaigned under the slogan “Ten Stalinist punches against capitalism”. But although he criticised Medvedev, he didn’t touch Putin. The populist leader of the Liberal Democratic Party of Russia (LDPR), Vladimir Zhirinovsky, another political dinosaur, actively endorses Putin’s foreign policy.

If there is discontent among voters, Putin is immune to it. On the eve of the elections, United Russia’s popularity slid to just 30 per cent of total respondents in one poll, though it scored 50 per cent among those who said they were definitely going to vote. Medvedev’s own approval rating fell to 48 per cent. His message to the elderly that state pensions wouldn’t increase, and his advice to teachers to get jobs in the private sector if they weren’t happy with their state salaries, might have had something to do with it. Yet Putin’s popularity remained consistently high, at 82 per cent, according to independent pollsters the Levada Centre.

Alexey Volkov, a 40-year-old business manager, says he voted for the Communists. “I voted against United Russia, the apparatchiks stifling the president,” he explains. “Putin, on the other hand, is the best ruler since Alexander III [Russia’s emperor at the end of the 19th century].”

Representatives in the Russian parliament, the Duma, have long been unpopular and considered ineffective by the Russian people. Over the past 16 years, presidential power has expanded hugely. Since Russia adopted its new constitution in 1993, successive presidents have introduced legislation to stretch the office’s authority. In his first term as president, Putin acquired 219 new rights and duties, and as his successor Medvedev enjoyed an additional 114 responsibilities. These range from educational appointments to federal government decisions.

As predicted, United Russia topped the ballot with 54 per cent of the vote. Putin’s party claimed 343 of the 450 seats (up from 238 in 2011). The same four parties will form the Duma. The Yabloko and PARNAS parties, seen by voters as a token gesture of protest against the Kremlin, gained negligible support, with 2 per cent and 0.7 per cent, respectively.

It is ultimately Putin’s victory. In the eyes of the majority, he has restored Russia’s strength abroad, revived the defence industry and army, and reinvigorated the country with patriotism. The latter was accomplished via manipulation of the media, which has reinstated the West as the enemy and focused attention on foreign affairs at the expense of the social and economic agenda at home.

Still, with the low turnout, only 26 per cent of eligible Russians voted for Putin’s party. Though that was enough to tighten the president’s grip on the Duma, nationwide the elections paint a picture of a dejected Russia just beginning to feel discontent with the status quo. It is not yet enough to unseat Putin, but as the old Russian saying goes: a drop of water can cut through stone.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times