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I was a little naive, a little naively over-alienated, when I first wrote this review, so I’ll try to re-do it now. I don’t watch many TV show seasons, and so far I’ve not wanted to watch more than one of the same show, which certainly includes this one. It’s okay though, and I think it’s easy to be overly alienated from it, from being overly naive before. (Which, of course, would be an excessively 1960s stance to take, lol.) I don’t watch much TV and even fiction isn’t a majority of my books like it is for most people. “Mad Men” is a semi-romantic story, a type of personal drama, (like horror without the horror), and not a straight romance like “Downton Abbey”, a romantic drama. Downton sells you the idea of its goodness, and so it’s easy to buy into that and over-credit it, and take the most token and convenient or insubstantial concession to realism or reality to be enough, if that’s your predisposition, like it was for me. But the Men sell you a much more semi-compromising idea of themselves, and it’s easy to just see that and point and shout, You’re Not Good, and scream again and run away like a child. But is Grantham’s Downton really such a better place, such a different place? It supposes itself to be different. It supposed itself to be better. But what substance is there in a supposition, necessarily?
After-note: “If you were going to go into law and force people to listen, I’d listen to you now, but if you’re an ad man and you want people to voluntarily like you, (scoffs), are you really a man, O my son?”
It was certainly a cynical show—or a cynical time; life precedes art. But, that being said, and although comparing to naively to the idealized past/Earl of Pansypants propaganda, necessarily distorts, still: it’s not exactly the show I’d watch to get a sense of the positive potential of prosperous people, you know.
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Google Books — Bezig met laden...
(4.14)
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After-note: “If you were going to go into law and force people to listen, I’d listen to you now, but if you’re an ad man and you want people to voluntarily like you, (scoffs), are you really a man, O my son?”
It was certainly a cynical show—or a cynical time; life precedes art. But, that being said, and although comparing to naively to the idealized past/Earl of Pansypants propaganda, necessarily distorts, still: it’s not exactly the show I’d watch to get a sense of the positive potential of prosperous people, you know.