Draper Daniels

I just recently came across this article in August 2009’s Chicago Magazine, a brief tribute by Myra Janco Daniels to her late husband, Draper Daniels, who was the primary inspiration for Mad Men‘s Donald Draper. It’s interesting to see where fact and fiction diverge, and it’s also the touching story of a reluctant romance. Here’s how he (first) proposed:

One day, after he had been with us for about two years, Dan came into my office with a card in his hand. By this time, the firm had been through several buyouts and mergers and I had a funny feeling that he was about to tell me of another one. I asked, “Are you going to sell me with the next merger?”

“Not exactly,” he said.

He showed me the card. On one side, he had written out his own best character traits. Then he turned it over. On the other side he had written out mine. Mine were better than his, so I knew he wanted something. I thought, What in the world has got into him?

“I’ve been thinking about this for nine months, Myra,” he said, “and I think we would make a great team.”

I said, “I think we are a great team. Think of what we’ve accomplished so far this year.”

He said, “I’m talking about a different sort of merger.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I’ve decided I’d like to marry you.”

I lost my voice for a moment, because I had never thought of the man that way before—and had no idea he had thought of me that way. Dan was twelve and a half years older than I and had been married before. I was against divorce in those days. But more importantly, I was happy with my life. I told him that.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s talk about it again tomorrow.” And then he walked out whistling—which, to me, was one of the most maddening things anyone can do, particularly under the circumstances.

My assistant said, “Did you get another account? Mr. Daniels seems very happy.”

I went home early and called Len, my fiancé, back in Washington. I told him what Dan had just said.

Len laughed. He knew Draper Daniels. “Come on,” he said. “He’s pulling your leg.”

The next day I wrote out a note and had it placed on Dan’s desk. “Merger accepted in fifteen years,” it said. “Today, let’s get some new business.”

 

Mad Men and Heroes

While I was on break last week, I had dinner with one of my former teachers and her husband, a graphics designer. They asked me what TV shows I keep up with, and I mentioned Mad Men. I had recommended it  to them before and I thought it would be a natural fit for an art teacher and a graphics designer.

To my surprise, they said that they couldn’t get into the show. I thought perhaps that they gave up after a couple episodes, but they said no, they watched the whole first season. I asked what they found elusive about the show, and they agreed that there was no likable character, no hero. At the end of the season, they couldn’t get behind any of the characters, or care about what happened to them.

At some level, I think our difference of opinion comes down to differences in taste. I would agree that there is no “hero,” but I think that is because almost every character is the protagonist of the scenes they are in. Clearly Don is the focus of the show, and by screen time alone must be considered our protagonist, but at no time  do Peggy, Joan, Betty, Pete, or even comedic characters like Roger or Ken lose independence to create a dramatic situation for Don to play against.

The more I thought about it, the more interesting I found the observation that there are no likable characters (whether that’s true or not). I’m pretty heavily invested in the series at this point, and at first I was surprised, because with very, very few exceptions (currently Dr. Rapist and Ugly Betty), I like every character. And that’s even more suprising. Don’s a bad philanderer (not that the activity is categorically wrong, but Don tends to have more destructive affairs than most), Roger is disgustingly sexist, everybody’s racist, most homophobic. Yet even with all of these very un-21st century attitudes, nobody is set apart as so bad that they’re a villain, or even an anti-hero.

I think that this is the thing that makes people so uncomfortable with race and, to a lesser extent, sexism and this show. We don’t get the psychological comfort of having a perfect Peter Fonda or Gregory Peck figure to stand in for us. We don’t even have a character that is so fundementally good that we can excuse their bad behavior. We just have people. People who are sometimes villains, sometimes heroes, and sometimes bad at both.

This is where my teacher and I diverge in opinion. Because of this impartiality, she can’t get into the show. I can’t get enough.