The Spelling Bee

Gossip Girl, S02 E05: The Serena Also Rises.

Last week, Serena and Dan fought a lot, and then she decided that she should use her social power to make everyone ignore him. Blair found out that Marcus and his step-mother were knocking boots and arranged to have them both sent back to England. Jenny started skipping school in the name of fashion. This week, Jenny continues to explore her rebellious side, and Serena decides that she might as well fight with Blair, too.

It’s Fashion Week in New York, shown by a bunch of shots of designers and models, including Michael Kors. There are probably other famous designers, but unless they’re featured weekly on Project Runway, I can’t actually recognize them. There’s madness behind the scenes at Eleanor Waldorf’s as everyone prepares for the show. Blair herself is in charge of the seating chart, and has placed her school chums in the second row. Eleanor thinks that’s fine, and adds that her friends will worship her. That thought had already crossed Blair’s mind, of course. She and Serena will be watching backstage, as is tradition. This is all a lot of dull exposition which will actually prove important later.

“Ah, school. Another day of reading, writing and aristocrats,” sighs Dan as he and Jenny stroll down the street. They discuss how he’s back to being invisible boy, which he says suits him, especially since he can now focus on his Yale application. He explains that, since Dartmouth’s whole English department was poached by Yale, he’s also changed allegiances. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that Yale is also closer to New York City, thereby making “Gossip Girl: The College Years” a bit more manageable. They can’t all go to Columbia, after all. Dan adds something about submitting his story to Shapiro despite being fired from Harris’s internship, and Shapiro loved it, blah blah blah plot contrivance. He runs off to his Italian class. As soon as he’s gone, Jenny hops in a cab and heads to Waldorf’s studio.

Lily’s art consultant is showing her around the penthouse, pointing out the various pieces that “any museum would be lucky to have.” The rich, they are different from you and me. Serena apologizes for not being around the night before, but she was out with Poppy Lifton. “The socialite?” asks the conveniently expositing art consultant. Yes, confirms Lily. She and Serena met recently and have been attached at the hip ever since. How very convenient to this week’s plot, too!

Lily says that she would like to make one more purchase: a Mapplethorpe has recently become available, and she would very much like to acquire it. “The one who took all the pictures of the naked guys?” asks Serena. “Not just guys,” smiles Lily. It turns out that this particular piece features a young and naked Lily. I’m glad that they’re giving us actual evidence of Lily’s wild past, and showing her thawing in small ways. I’m rooting for her to be dancing on the bar of Hogs & Heifers by the end of this season.

At school, Chuck informs Blair that her throne’s in danger, and she can’t wage war on Serena without an ally. Blair denies that there is any such war, and says that Serena was merely keeping her seat warm while she dealt with her pervy English lord. Smiling, she tells him that a true monarch bestow favors, and she’s the only one with the clout to get people into fashion week. Blair’s need to gloat clearly triumphs over her brain, which should be loudly informing her that she should keep all plans secret before Chuck finds a way to ruin them.

Blair hands out the tickets to her Merry Band. Her victory is short-lived, though; just as they are exclaiming over the fabulous seats, one of them opens Women’s Wear Daily to a photo of Serena, posing with Poppy Lifton. Serena walk up in time to receive their praise, and Blair walks away in a huff.

Chuck catches Blair in her grand exit and says how much joy her failure gives him. She pointedly tells him that the only thing he gives anyone is misery, and there’s a reason why he has no friends. Chuck says that Nate’s just away at his grandparents (a Nate-free episode? Who do I thank?), but Blair counters that the only person with fewer friends than Chuck is Dan – and at least his dad likes him. Ouch.

Dan sits before Shapiro, the Paris Review guy, who is busy eviscerating Dan’s stories, explaining that they’re all the same. They’re all about “a sheltered young man with girl trouble who lives with his daddy in Brooklyn.” Yeah, that does sound pretty dull. Dan protests that he thought he was supposed to write what he knows, and Shapiro tells him that he needs to widen his knowledge.

I would like to go on record now as saying how much I hate this storyline. The whole idea that great writers can only write from their own experience is, in fact, utter bullshit. It assumes that people that have dedicated themselves to writing stories have absolutely no imagination beyond their own small worlds and can’t empathize with experiences other than their own. I’m pretty sure Shakespeare never met three witches on a Scottish heath and Milton didn’t personally have a conversation with Satan when he was a serpent, and the two of them did pretty well. So, yes, it’s yet another plot contrivance, but it’s a crappy one, and I protest. It also ensures that I hate Shapiro, who is totally the sort of arrogant white man who came to literary prominence in the 60s and thinks that literature begins and ends with Bukowski and Mailer. In other words, he can bite my former English major ass. The Pretentious Writer tells Dan that a cardinal rule of writing is, “If your work’s too safe, do something dangerous.” Dan doesn’t know where to begin, and is told to find someone who does – he needs to “find his Bukowski.” Everyone else see where this is going?