Oh, Mrs. (and you too, Mr.) Maisel, do you know where your children are?

Oh, Mrs. (and you too, Mr.) Maisel, do you know where your children are?

Posted on March 30th, 2019 by Scott Warnock

We blew through The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. It was a good spousal bonding experience, if for no other reasons than that she liked it enough to a) watch it all and b) stay awake through (most) of it. I thought the first two seasons were great, big-theater-on-TV that it is. Mrs. Maisel herself is, well, talented and marvelous, and I loved the anatomy of stand-up comedy.

But I’m a plot guy, and watching it, I found myself increasingly irked by something: Where the heck are the kids?

I’ll be careful to avoid spoilers, but I think you’ll get this pretty quickly if you tune in: Nobody’s watching the kids on the show. The adults are all living their lives: “Wanna get drinks?” “Sure!” “Wanna go to the diner?” “Sure!” “Wanna start a new life?” “Sure!” Meanwhile, the kids are in front of the TV, eating in the kitchen (not the dining room), sleeping over someone’s house. At summer camp, they’re busy–all day and all night.

Gender and gender roles are under the magnifying glass throughout the show, and I’m not pinning this on Mrs. Maisel: Nobody‘s paying attention to these kids, gender–or age–aside.

It appears that while the kids are clearly in the way for most of the show, nobody, on or off screen wants to admit it, or do anything about it.

I feel like they shouldn’t even be there.

In a conversation with a friend about this topic, we discussed why this separation between kid and parent might seem so jarring to us now, especially because in certain segments of our culture there is complete parent-kid immersion. We’re around our progeny all the time, doing things with them, and expecting close fellowship if not outright friendship as they get older.

In another day and time, say the 50s of Mrs. Maisel, the kids were just there. I guess, watching, I can’t make a blanket ruling that that was a healthier time, but I also can’t say it was less healthy. The kids in the show, admittedly well-off kids whose parents are budgeting for private grammar school–groan–aren’t unsafe. But there is no expectation that the parents will have all this interaction with them, building Lego houses for hours and coaching their teams after work.

It made me wonder: Is the kids-eating-in-the-kitchen deal a plot flaw of the show? Was it a plot flaw of the 50s? Or is the opposite, what we have going on today, a plot flaw of real-life now?

Are we better that we’re so over-involved with kids’ lives? Or was it better that they never grew up with parents who would be there for anything except big-issue problems?

Regardless, the show struck me for its slice-of-life treatment of the kids and how handily they are banished not just from the lives of their parents but from the plot of the show.

The Maisels and other parents still love their children as much as we love ours. But that love doesn’t get in the way of working 16 hours and then going to the bar or going to fitness class or going to the comedy club. When I think about how at least some of us would cheat others so our kids can climb over them, maybe it shouldn’t.

Author Bio
Latest Posts

Scott Warnock

Scott Warnock is a writer and teacher who lives in South Jersey. He is a professor of English at Drexel University, where he is also the Associate Dean of Undergraduate Education in the College of Arts and Sciences. Father of three and husband of one, Scott is president of a local high school education foundation and spent many years coaching youth sports.