Tag Archives: television

News

Tortoise Tuesday: Orienting in “Babylon Berlin”

As a PTL project, I’ve finally started properly studying German, and by that I mean watching Babylon Berlin. I’m a diligent student, so I’ve already made it through most of the third and final season. The show, which follows detectives investigating political conspiracies and crimes in late 1920s Germany, gives a fascinating (and, as far as I can tell, fairly accurate) view of the Weimar Republic, but it’s also an excellent example of orienting evidence—in this case, physical evidence in the detectives’ investigations.

Just like in a good paper, pieces of evidence that will be important later in the show are introduced early on, left alone until a point in the structure where they become relevant, and then fully analyzed to demonstrate their relationship to the overarching thesis (or plot). Early in season three, for example, I knew there had to be a reason for the huge bottle of insulin a diabetic character keeps on hand. Sure enough, in the climactic episode, the main characters narrowly escape a hypoglycemic coma after the villain injects them both with a lethal dose of insulin. (The fact that this is one of the series’ more realistic plot twists says a lot about the show.) That the bottle was introduced—oriented—and defined in an early episode makes it easy for the viewer to understand its role when it reappears later. It also avoids the necessity of orienting and defining at the same time that the piece of evidence is actually being used (analyzed, in a writing context), which could come across as clumsy and poorly planned. Instead, the bottle is already in the back of the viewer’s mind, and when its purpose in the show becomes clear, everything falls neatly into place.

When I’m reading other students’ essays at the Writing Center, people sometimes say they’re concerned that orienting a source but not fully unpacking it until later in the paper might lead their reader to think they’re just doing a bad job of analyzing the material. Actually, I find it very helpful as a reader when sources are briefly introduced and key terms are succinctly defined at the start of a paper, so I have some idea of the analysis that’s coming. It would have seemed (even more?) ridiculous if the bad guy in Babylon Berlin had whipped out a bottle of insulin with no previous orienting, as if the show’s writers had thought of this plot development while they were writing but then hadn’t bothered to go back to earlier episodes and adequately set up their plot (thesis). Just setting up the sources that you’re planning to use and trusting your reader to understand that you’ll come back to them later is orienting enough, and it usually won’t kill you.

— Ro van Wingerden, ’21

News

Tortoise Tuesday: Marriage, Mortgage, and Motive

It was Friday of midterms week, and I was staring at my computer screen. You might expect that, studious Princetonian that I am, I would be reviewing the last answer on my philosophy exam, or perhaps putting the finishing touches on my politics report. Instead, I was smack in the middle of Netflix’s latest reality show: Marriage or Mortgage

The premise of Marriage or Mortgage is simple. Each episode, wedding planner Sarah Miller and real estate agent Nichole Holmes compete for the business of an engaged couple; the couple must decide whether to spend their savings on their dream wedding or their dream home. Along the way, Sarah and Nichole ply the couple with fairytale carriages and sweeping yards, discounted dresses and free appliances. The show is entertaining and, if you’re a fan of home tours, a bit addictive.

But as I kept watching, I began to feel troubled. Not just because my reality TV binge was keeping me from my midterms, although it was. And not just because the show’s mid-2020 weddings had massive superspreader potential, although they did. Or even just because it was ridiculous that anyone would pick a donut wall over a $20,000 home discount. What bothered me about the show was the way that it presented the choice—marriage or mortgage—as the couples’ only choice.

Imagine, if you will, that you’re writing a paper about what makes a relationship last. One prominent scholar (let’s call her Miller) says that weddings build strong emotional connections, so a couple seeking a stable relationship should go all in on their wedding. But another scholar (let’s call her Holmes) disagrees. Holmes posits that homeownership is an investment in the couple’s financial future, so a couple looking for stability should go all in on buying a house. As the writer, how might you intervene in this conversation? In other words, what’s your scholarly motive?

It’s true that you might choose to take sides. Perhaps you agree with Miller that a wedding sets an emotional foundation for a relationship, and your contribution is to defend her argument against Holmes’s attack. Or perhaps you’re with Holmes, and your intervention is to correct an oversight in her argument. Importantly, though, these scholarly moves are not the only ones you can make. You aren’t limited to supporting Miller to the exclusion of Holmes, or vice versa. What Marriage or Mortgage misses is that, sometimes, a nuanced solution is a better one. As an essay writer, you might agree with Miller that weddings are an emotional investment and with Holmes that buying a house is a financial investment; the key to finding your scholarly motive is just finding the right balance of each. 

This kind of balance is not easy in a country where real estate prices are soaring and wedding costs (despite COVID-19) are, too. But I think that a Marriage or Mortgage that acknowledged these difficulties and nevertheless sought compromise would feel more true to our post-pandemic life. Instead of spending $30,000 on their dream wedding and then getting stuck in their parents’ homes, couples could replace the multi-hundred-guest jubilee with a more pared down affair. Or instead of buying a house at the very top of their price range and then waiting years for a wedding, couples could forgo a giant backyard and pay for a small reception. The details aren’t as important as the fact that such a balance can exist. By understanding Marriage or Mortgage as we might a scholarly conversation, we can see possibilities beyond the ones the show presents. Put simply, couples can have their wedding cake and eat it at their own kitchen table.

— Natalia Zorrilla, ’23

News

Tortoise Tuesday: How Netflix’s Bridgerton Highlights the Importance of Conventions

As I relax and enjoy the remaining days of winter break, I have admittedly fallen into the trap of binge-watching Netflix shows. I’ve watched The Queen’s Gambit, New Girl, The Great British Baking Show, and Derry Girls, but one has stood out from the rest — Bridgerton. The show can be described as an early-19th century version of Gossip Girl that follows the lives of the eight children of the elite Bridgerton family. An anonymous writer under the pseudonym “Lady Whistledown” releases pamphlets divulging the gossip of London’s high society during the social season and reports the highs and lows of its many balls, promenades, and afternoon teas.

As someone who has taken on the pandemic uniform of sweatpants, slippers, and unwashed hair, Bridgerton is the perfect escapist show. The beautiful, sparkling gowns and carefully constructed hairstyles remind me of the fun of dressing up for social events and meeting new people. The show’s 19th century setting is particularly entertaining and convincing because of its adherence to 19th century social conventions (as far as I’m aware of them).

            From the costumes to the dialogue to the social rules that control the lives of the characters, these conventions provide some structure and consistency to the show. For example, the young women in the show carry “dance cards” to the balls, which their potential partners must write their names on to secure a dance that night. The suitors come to the women’s homes, bringing flowers and gifts to express their interest. The whole process of proposals, engagements, and weddings also follow 19th century customs and are organized by the couples’ parents. These customs, while antiquated and often sexist, create opportunities for drama — who is dancing with whom, what gifts do the suitors bring and whom are they visiting, how and when are the weddings arranged? In this way, the conventions in Bridgerton are the template upon which the excitement of the show builds. They might not be the most obviously important part of Bridgerton, but the conventions of the social season guide the events of the characters’ lives.

            Similarly, the conventions of a paper play an important role in guiding the writer, although they might not seem as vital as thesis, evidence, or analysis. Just as the different social events, customary language, clothing, and backdrops in Bridgerton must be historically accurate, the sections of a paper, the tone and voice, the formatting, and citation style must follow the discipline-specific conventions. A history paper that used APA citations or a scientific article without a detailed methods section would stick out like a scene in Bridgerton in which the costumes suddenly became skinny jeans and tank tops or the characters decided to meet each other on dating apps instead of in ballrooms. The conventions of a certain field might seem tedious or unnecessary, but a well-crafted paper and a well-crafted period piece must both be consistent in their customs.

            The next time you find yourself cursing the process of checking citations, confirming that you’re using the correct voice, or redoing your paper’s format, try thinking of yourself as the director of a period piece like Bridgerton, where the details make a difference. Ultimately, adherence to proper conventions make your paper consistent and ensure that all the important information gets to your reader.

— Annabelle Duval ’23