Mad Men: season 5, episode 7

Bad writing and behaviour at the codfish ball.

Sally Draper summarises "At the Codfish Ball" all too well with her closing word: Dirty. The episode sitting in the middle of the fifth season is a very mean one, and arguably full of . . . filler material. Whatever glimmered through - Sally briefly funky in go-go boots; hers and Roger's playfulness; his camaraderie with ex-wife Mona - was outshone at the close by a crude-mannered and flagrant sex act. It seemed such an unnecessary encounter; as seemed, for the large part, much of the episode.

Beginning with the sad climax of it: Sally, stripped of makeup, attends her first "codfish ball". The fish is quite good (why will she try this and not Megan's dover sole?), but the adults are hypocrites: members of the American Cancer Society all smoke cigarettes, the industry celebrates Don as it snatches away from him its business (he "bit their hand", as Ken Cosgrove's father-in-law puts it) and bored/married adults give fellatio in the nearest half-dark room. 

There's no clear themes here besides parents behaving badly - nothing new for Mad Men. In some ways this was Megan's chapter, though she emerges more of an enigma than before. If her reaction to Don's demands in "Far Away Places" inclined us to think Megan was channeling the 1966 feminist spirit, we may be mistaken. If a successful career is what Megan wants then it doesn't appear to be in advertising; despite her success this week with the Heinz campaign. To begin thinking about Megan - until now have we been asked, or bothered, to do so? - we must consider her father's early remark to the luggage-carrying Don: "My daughter pretends to find interesting what I find interesting because she loves me". Is this the answer to her behaviour with her husband? Is Emile's comment so telling? (Must we ask, eventually, whether Megan does love Don? My own mother finds her quip at the Howard Johnson's table "Go call your own mother!" - knowing Don's past - too full of spite for it to be true).

Her behaviour throughout the development and selling of the Heinz pitch suggests that Megan neither cares for her work nor for the plight of her fellow female colleague. Megan warns Don her beans idea "Might be terrible!", but why does she take it to him and not Peggy, her unofficial mentor? While Peggy in Season 1 was pioneering as the first woman copywriter in the history of Sterling Cooper, Megan's main concern is "they’ll hate me," and wishes Don would "tell them it was your idea”. After Ms Olson's struggles to be respected, to have due credit granted her work (see Glo-Coat just a year previously), Megan's reservations, delivered with a giggle, are a slap in the face to Peggy.

The gulf between the two is most apparent in Megan’s strange disconnect with Peggy’s excited praise. “I know what you did and it is a big deal," Peggy tells her. "I tried to crack that nut. If anything I should be jealous, but I look at you and I think I’m getting to experience my first time again." "Savour it". Peggy can't help but notice the forced smile she receives. After the tense pitch over dinner - where Megan sets him up and Don delivers, to Heinz man's delight - the Drapers choose to reward each other with sex. Is it a stretch to consider it undermining of the work that they have sex in the office? We took for granted at the opening of Season 5 that Megan was now a copywriter, and perhaps she did, too. Does she still want to be an actress . . . or what?

Katherine Olson's disregard for her daughter's happiness is no surprise. Nor is Peggy's temporary unease at Abe's non-proposal: she has always teetered on the edge of traditional/liberal. The only things of note for Peggy in this episode: "Someone dumped you?" - her sweet incredulity at Joan (who speaks the saddest line, “Men don’t take the time to end things. They ignore you until you insist on a declaration of hate,") and the framed photograph of JFK on her apartment wall. We're glad to see the return of Glen Bishop; previously creepy, now a teenager (read: dangerous). And also of scant interest is the newly published novel Don reads in bed: The Fixer by Bernard Malamud, where the protagonist forgives his former wife for leaving him. Do we care to read anything in this?

There's little else here. Are we to begin imagining Megan will become her mother Marie, who repeated Mrs Draper's good night to the children in California at the end of Season 4: "Bonne nuit des animaux"? A learnt habit, perhaps. There's certainly no subtlety there. The same writer was responsible for both episodes and that, alone, may be the reason why.  

Read the Mad Men series blog

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

Iain Cameron
Show Hide image

Meet Scotland's 300-year-old snow patch, the Sphinx

Snow patch watchers expect it to melt away by the weekend. 

This weekend, Scotland's most resilient snow patch, dubbed Sphinx, is expected to melt away. The news has been met with a surprising outpouring of emotion and nationwide coverage. Even The Financial Times covered the story with the headline "The end is nigh for Britain's last snow". The story has also gone international, featuring in radio reports as far away as New Zealand.

So what is it about Sphinx that has captured the public’s imagination?  Some have suggested it could be symbolic. The Sphinx represents how we all feel, helpless and doomed to a fate determined by leaders like Donald Trump and Kim Jong Un. 

Regular contributors to the Facebook page “Snow Patches in Scotland”  have their own, more prosaic theories. One tells me that the British are “generally a bit obsessed with weather and climate”, while another says snow-patches are "more interesting than anything Trump/May/Boris or Vladimir have to say”.

Those more interested in patches of snow than the existential consequences of international relations could be dismissed as having seriously skewed priorities, but there's more to the story of Sphinx than lies on the surface. 

For a start it's thought to be 300 years old, covering a small square of the Cairngorms for centuries with just six brief interruptions. Last time the Sphinx disappeared was 11 years ago. Though it may melt away this weekend, it is expected to be back by winter. 

Iain Cameron, the man who set up the Facebook page "Snow Patches in Scotland" and someone who has recorded and measured snow patches since he was a young boy, says that Sphinx has shrunk to the size of a large dinner table and he expects it will have melted entirely by this Saturday.

It came close to disappearing in 2011 as well, he adds. In October of that year, Sphinx at around its current size and only a heavy snowstorm revived it.

"They tend to keep the same shape and form every year," Cameron tells me. "It might sound weird to say, but it’s like seeing an elderly relative or an old friend. You’re slightly disappointed if it’s not in as good a condition."

But why has Sphinx survived for so long? The patch of land that Sphinx lies above faces towards the North East, meaning it is sheltered from the elements by large natural formations called Corries and avoids the bulk of what sunlight northern Scotland has to offer. 

It also sits on a bid of soil rather than boulder-fields, unlike the snow patches on Britain's highest mountain Ben Nevis. Boulder-fields allow air through them, but the soil does not, meaning the Sphinx melts only from the top.

Cameron is hesistant to attribute the increased rate of Sphinx's melting to climate change. He says meterologists can decide the causes based on the data which he and his fellow anoraks (as he calls them) collect. 

That data shows that over the past 11 years since Sphinx last melted it has changed size each year, not following any discernable pattern. “There is no rhyme or reason because of the vagaries of the Scottish climate," says Cameron.

One thing that has changed is Sphinx's title is no longer quite so secure. There is another snow patch in near Ben Nevis vying for the position of the last in Scotland. Cameron says that it is 50:50 as to which one will go first.