Death and the Salesmen
Death and the Salesmen:
Mad Men and the Marketing of Thanatonic Masculinity
In his critical essay “The History of Masculinity,” R.W. Connell points to the paradoxical position that men of metropolitan countries now inhabit, at once in a position of economic and discursive power and increasingly exposed to movements of feminism, sexual liberation, and so-called “utopian thinking” (Connell 257). He argues that while the “profound differences” within this category of men are resistant to any fundamental changes in the status quo, the issues borne out of such movements will lead, inexorably, to “a wider range of politics addressing masculinity, more attempts to define masculinity and influence its reproduction, than have existed before” (258). Rhetorically, it is an odd place to conclude his essay in that it neglects to ask a more fundamental question. If “men of metropolitan countries” do, in fact, maintain these annals of communication and representation, and have little interest in upending the status quo, how will they choose to address this growing preoccupation with gender politics? This question seems especially relevant to popular representations of gender relations, a fair barometer in objectively gauging contemporary social norms.
Within this context, it is useful to consider the television drama Mad Men, a stylized portrayal of a Madison Avenue advertising firm. Useful not only in that the show seems preoccupied (obsessed, at times) in its depiction of the stilted gender dynamics of the 1960’s, but also in that the protagonists work in an industry dedicated to the formulation and regulation of public opinion – the apparent forbearers to Connell’s global cabal of open-minded men. As such, an interesting diachronic tension arises between the creators of Mad Man and their characters, all of whom (real or fictional) seem to be members of the same exclusive club. If we are to trust Connell’s apparent optimism, one might look for differences between the show’s narratives and meta-narratives (ostensibly reflecting past and present sensibilities, respectively) – as evidence that we are not simply retreading old ground. Has our “increased exposure” feminist movements affected the show’s representations of indulgent misogyny? And more importantly, what does the show’s popular success tell us about the creators’ strategies in presenting such (potentially offensive) material?
