Season two opens with the three major female characters. First Joan and Peggy getting ready for work and then Betty horse-riding. In each of these we see something about surface control exhibited in different ways. Joan is all woman, curves and sex appeal, squeezed into a figure hugging dress, rearranging her breasts in what one surmises is a pretty powerful and probably uncomfortable foundation garment. Peggy looks like she's a teenager who hasn't quite made the transition from the 1950s, watching her put on her perfume is like watching a young girl playing with her mother's cosmetics, but like Joan she is arranging the surface in an attempt to exude control. And then there is Betty. Joan and Peggy's attempts both look amateurish next to hers. Joan is a Titian Monroe, too sexy to be entirely professional, Peggy is Sandra Dee turned prefect, too teenage prim to be seen as the professional copywriter she wants to be, but Betty is Grace Kelly perfect on her horse. Not a hair out of place, no dirt on her perfect jodhpurs, her hacking jacket fit for purpose but looking like it might have just stepped off the runway. Betty is complete control which she demonstrates when she takes her horse over a jump, and completely glacial which she shows in the conversation on the way to her car. We are left wondering if there are any true human emotions going on under that perfect exterior. Betty the creative executive's wife is all style over substance.
The female struggle for surface control was a theme throughout the episode. Joan deliberating about the location of the photocopier – and where did it eventually end up? In Peggy's office. One remaining way for Joan to keep Peggy in her place, whatever her earlier remonstrances with Don's secretary where she told her she must have respect for “Miss Olsen”. Peggy taking out her frustrations on Lois, Don's secretary, while in the conference room it's made clear that to the boys she's still just one of the secretaries, whatever her new position. Later in Pete Campbell's office their attitude is summed up when in a conversation about the new young blood being interviewed for the agency, Peggy points out that she is only twenty-two. “You don't count” and she doesn't. Not yet. And Betty? Style over substance outs again when chatting with a Francine Hanson she pretends to have missed Jackie Kennedy's televisual tour of the White House because she was too busy. The implication being that she and Don were having sex, the reality being that he couldn't get it up. She also pretends a worldliness that she doesn't have, in telling the meeting with a former room-mate, Juanita Carson, she says that Don had agreed with her that Juanita was a call-girl. Betty had not realised this rather obvious fact until Don had pointed it out to her. And there is another important aspect of the night that Betty is misrepresenting: she dressed sexily for Don, but when he failed to perform she said “I wish you would just tell me what to do.” And we understand, again, that Betty can look the part, but she doesn't know how to act it.
And what of the other characters? Roger Sterling's brief appearance brings no new insight, he is still the same man, manipulating, wheeling and dealing, and lusting after Joan's voluptuous charms. Peter Campbell, no longer freshly married, is now playing the role of slightly put upon husband having tired of the role of enchanted newly-wed. Salvatore Romano is even deeper in his closet as we catch sight of him on the couch with his wife. And then there is Don. His visit to the doctor to have a medical for insurance purposes informs both him and us that his lifestyle is having an impact on his health. In typical Draper style he seems to do nothing to curtail his excesses. Indeed toward the end of the episode we see him pouring a large glass of bourbon before offering Carla, his and Betty's maid, a lift home. Prior to that it's business as usual in the office. Interviewing Smitty and Kurt the two new young guns giving the “old guard” cause for concern, trying to steer the Mohawk Airlines account in a direction that has feeling, and sparring with Duck Phillips. But beneath the apparently unchanged surface there are indications that Don has not taken his doctor's warning as lightly as all that. There are hints of this throughout the episode, his inability to perform sexually, his focus on the drawing of the little girl in the Mohawk picture board, his interaction with his children. But the biggest clue of all is at the end of the episode. Don is in his study reading Meditations in an Emergency, a collection of poetry by Frank O'Hara. In voice-over we hear him reciting the lines:
“The country is gray and brown and white and trees. Snows and skies of laughter always diminishing.
Less funny, not just darker, not just gray.
It may be the coldest day of the year. What does he think of that ... I mean, what do I?
And if I do...perhaps I am myself again.”
Could the creative executive be a man of substance over style?
He then takes the book, writes on it: ““Made me think of you – D”, puts it in an envelope and walks to the mailbox to post it. Who is Don sending it to? Why is his reading a private matter? Who is privy to the substance of Don Draper? We know we will find out, we just don't know when, and that is part of the captivating charm of this wonderful series. Nothing is rushed, it's all about delayed gratification and the pleasure is all the sweeter because of it.
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