Every couple of days, Ashley Parker and David Carr kick around an episode of “House of Cards.” We are now deep in the story and deconstruct, but if you want to catch up with past chats, you can find episode one, two,three or four in the archives. But be warned that there is a thicket of spoilers there, and in the discussion that follows.
Episode 5
Synopsis: After Frank Underwood and Zoe Barnes consummate the more intimate aspects of their alliance, Zoe decides to leave The Washington Herald and join a nascent political blog. Frank begins to open up doors for his fellow congressman, Peter Russo, that seem to lead either to the gates of hell or the governorship of Pennsylvania. It’s hard to say which.
Carr: Say hello to Slugline, Zoe’s new base of operations for her career. Can we just dwell on that name for a second? Journalists may recognize it as a nod to the term we use for naming stories in our internal system, but most civilians think of it as a slimy snail-like creature that seems to have misplaced its shell and leaves a trail of ooze as it proceeds. That’s not exactly the allusion one might hope for in a publishing enterprise, but the digital economy is rife with examples of things that started out sounding silly — Google and Yahoo come to mind — and end up redolent with meaning.
As Zoe explains it, “Six months from now, Slugline will be what Politico was a year and a half ago.”
Slugline, from what I can tell, is the kind of lovechild that would spring to life if Gawker and Politico hooked up. The editor is constantly on the prowl for “edge” and “grit.” I realized as I was watching that I could never work there even though I like my edge and grit as much as the next reporter. No, the big problem for me is that there is no furniture in the office. I worked at a dotcom in the first boom, but they did give us desks and computers. A beanbag chair may be a fine place to take a nap, but as a launching pad for missiles designed to expose government malfeasance and beat competitors, it’s not what I would choose.
Her old editor at the Herald, meanwhile, is forced to explain to his publisher how he lost one of the rising stars of Beltway journalism. He pushes back: “Zoe, Twitter, blogs, rich media, they are all fads. They aren’t the foundation this paper was built on.”
Having revealed himself as an old codger intent on going down with dignity while the readership of his paper attenuates, he is promptly canned. New media is the new orthodoxy, the suggestion seems to be, and those who can’t get with the program will get kicked to the curb.
Ashley, I’m wondering if the cartoonishness of Slugline put you off, or whether you think that as a dramatic stand-in for a digital enterprise, it scans just fine.
Parker: I’d say Slugline is hit and miss, in terms of ringing true. When Frank tells Zoe, “If freedom and exposure are what they’re offering, I would say that is a meeting worth taking,” he seems to be accurately espousing a “new media” ethos — freedom and exposure, but only for those willing to take risks and hustle.
However, the Slugline editor’s cooler-than-cool schtick felt like a caricature of an actual editor of an online empire. (Think Arianna Huffington at The Huffington Post, or Ben Smith at BuzzFeed). “If eight minutes passes on anything, I get bored,” the editor warns Zoe. “In eight minutes, I could be bored with you.”
Yeah, yeah, we get the point — if Slugline is Politico 2.0, then the 24-hour news cycle has become the 24-minute news cycle has become the 24-second news cycle has become the— wait, is that a LOL penguin? We get it; we don’t need to be beaten over the head with it.
Changing gears, I’m curious what you make of Frank and Claire Underwood’s relationship now. When he comes home the morning after his liaison with Zoe, still in the same clothes he wore to work the day before, Claire asks him, coolly, “The reporter?”
When he confirms that yes, it was the reporter, Claire seems to accept the affair, simply asking, “What does she get us?”
I wonder if the show’s writers are trying to model the Underwoods on the Bill and Hillary Clinton-style partnership that exists in popular mythology. For me, it lacks the necessary nuance and complexity, but maybe you feel differently. What do you think, David? Who — if anyone — was the inspiration?
Carr: I think they used Caligula. Kidding. I’m guessing there is supposed to be an echo of Clintonian marital realpolitik — that the love of power is the source of intimacy in this power couple. I do have to say I am a sucker for the shared-cigarette debriefs at night as they sit by the window. The ceremony of it — handing a cigarette back and forth — and the naughtiness of it — she is a serious runner — create a very real connection framed by that window sill.
They do seem to love each other even as they choose to find physical intimacy elsewhere. In this early going, they are the only true allies in a landscape of lackeys and enemies.
As I watched Claire take in the news that her husband had spent the night with Zoe, I was struck by the fact that his decision to sleep with the reporter supposedly gave him a measure of control. Really? Logic suggests that the man with everything to lose hooking up with a young woman with little to lose does not gain dominion; he creates exposure and vulnerability. If all he wants from Zoe is another reliable lever to press when he needs to alter the game, he did not have to spend the night in her apartment to make that happen.
Parker: You’re right. On the one hand, Frank Underwood and Zoe Barnes’s relationship is purely transactional. But it doesn’t necessarily seem to require sexual transaction to function. After all, before they ever started sleeping together, Frank simply wanted a mouthpiece — and Zoe provided it. And Zoe simply wanted information — and Frank provided it.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy Frank’s droll lessons about what (he believes) an “older man” can do and be to someone like Zoe. But the sex strikes me as a fun and buzzy plot point, not the fulcrum on which their relationship pivots.
Article source: http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/07/journalism-in-8-minute-chunks-a-back-and-forth-on-house-of-cards/?partner=rss&emc=rss