Timothy Noah chatted with readers about The Sopranos on June 7. Read the transcript here.
Dear Jeff and Brian,
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StumbleUponThank goodness you're here, Brian. You can give us the skinny on Lincoln Log sandwiches. Like Jeff, I'd never heard of this delicacy before Sunday night, and we're not alone. The question haunts a reader on Gawker, journalist/blogger Ezra Klein, and Yahoo! Answers. No one, however, is more curious than Colin McEnroe, a Hartford, Conn., radio personality who's funnier than Dom Imus and lacks Imus' compulsion to wring cheap laughs from hate speech (full disclosure: I appear on McEnroe's afternoon program a lot). McEnroe admitted on his Web log that he doesn't know exactly what a Lincoln Log sandwich is, but insisted that its shape can't be ignored. "Sometimes a Lincoln Log sandwich is just a Lincoln Log sandwich," McEnroe began. "But not when your Mom leaves two of them on the counter and cuts them and your Dad comes in and bites one of them before he realizes you are drowning." A fair point. Of Phil Leotardo's bitter prison memories of masturbating into a Kleenex, McEnroe wrote, "Raise your hand if you believe that. Keep your hand up if you believe Phil made it through prison without any Lincoln Log sandwiches." To McEnroe, this latest episode was all about masturbation, ejaculation (remember Coco's smutty comment about the whipped cream on Meadow's lip?), and castration ("Freud wrote that dreams about teeth coming out were castration dreams triggered by sexual anxiety and guilt … "). Even the episode's title, McEnroe observed, was a double entendre: "The Second Coming."
Jeff, you earlier requested a psychoanalytic perspective. Perhaps this fits the bill. McEnroe also noted, helpfully, that the two researchers cited by Dr. Kupferberg—Stanton Samenow and Samuel Yochelson—are real. Or rather, were real. Samuel Yochelson died in 1976. Samenow is still with us. The three-volume work they coauthored, The Criminal Personality, was published between 1976 and 1986, and according to Samenow's Web page, it's based on "the longest in-depth clinical research-treatment study of offenders that has been conducted in North America."
A cursory glance through some of Samenow's writings suggests that his views are a bit more complex than Kupferberg's tart summary to Melfi would suggest. On the one hand, Samenow believes that criminals (a term that Samenow uses synonymously with "sociopaths") have "no idea what a love relationship is." For example,
Many an offender has told me how much he loves his mother—the person who has always been there for him no matter what he has done. Yet when this beloved individual opposes him, attempts to restrict him, or stands up to him, she becomes a target of his rage. She is to behave in line with his objectives. Otherwise, he will turn on her and she can become his victim. This is not love!
One thinks of Tony's foiled attempt to smother Livia Soprano with a pillow at the end of Season 1. Surely, though, there were extenuating circumstances, given Livia's prior nod to Uncle Junior to carry out an ultimately unsuccessful hit on Tony.
On the other hand, Samenow believes that the criminal/sociopath can, under the right circumstances, learn to be empathetic:
The cognitive tool is learning to consider a situation from another person's point of view. The criminal's objective is to convert others to his point of view. However, if he reaches a critical time in life when his way of living has led to nothing but disaster as he himself views it, he can in fact learn new patterns of thinking.
Tony doesn't seem to be moving in this direction. As the pillars of Tony's home life have begun to crumble, we've seen him become meaner and more narcissistic. Perhaps the problem is that Tony is in individual rather than group "terapy."
Role playing can help, especially in groups, call to a criminal's attention his longstanding pattern to use other people for his own purposes, to question this thinking and its ultimate effect, deter the thinking and substitute respect, consideration, and so forth.
This was, of course, the concept behind Michael O'Donoghue's classic Saturday Night Live skit, "Godfather Group Therapy," in which a dippy flight attendant played by Laraine Newman repeatedly urged Vito Corleone (John Belushi) to dig deeper (Vito, you're still blocking!). Belushi responded by putting an orange peel in his mouth and keeling over, but that was 30 years ago. Many new psychoanalytic tools have been developed since then.
Anyway. Lincoln Logs. Help me out, Brian. They appear to be hot dogs smeared with cream cheese and then rolled in white bread. "Now that is some sick disgusting shit," observes "monopolyface" on HBO's Sopranos bulletin board. You obviously disagree. Do you find that eating a Lincoln Log before a confrontational interview boosts your self-confidence?
Inquiringly,
Tim
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Remarks from the Fray Editor:
As a basic cable slum-dweller, the Fray Editor has been following the discussion of The Sopranos with admiration and envy. The passion, erudition, and insight of the show's fans—Slate's commentators and Fraysters alike—proves the case that this series is not to be missed. Below, Fray poster lucabrasi considers how the 6.5 season story arc has led the show inevitably to the present moment.
May this weekend's finale exceed your wildest expectations. My prediction? Paulie Walnuts in the Bing with a shoe buffer.—G.A.
Remarks from the Fray:
I must salute the excellent close of the mob wars arc that started way back in Season One.
Looking back from today, with Tony's Jersey crime family indeed looking like a "glorified crew" in the eyes of New York, one can see it, almost clearly:
Season One: Tony's issues were of ascension in that smallish Jersey family. Jackie Sr. was dying; Uncle Junior was the designated "front don," and yet bitter enough about Tony's power to use Livia's ambiguous directives to hit Tony. Didn't work. Junior was exiled and took on Federal heat; Tony had the others killed.
Season Two: Richie Aprile gets out of prison. A theme begins: guys out of prison resent Tony, who never served. But Richie, too, is "local Jersey trouble." His escalating conflict with Tony is going to be dealt with rather easily -- Tony wants Richie hit, but Janice delivers a dose of even MORE "local" justice.
Meanwhile, I think NYC underboss Johnny Sack turns up living in Jersey, but promising Tony "I don't want to wet my beak."
The main NYC Don is Carmine Sr, an old school guy. Tony can deal with Carmine Sr, but Sack starts getting that lean and hungry look...
Seasons Three and Four: Other issues are on the table (Jackie Jr., Tony and Carm's marriage), but Tony's adversaries are manageable: made guy Ralphie and the ever-more-ambitious and angry Sack. Ralphie is eliminated, quietly (if NYC ever finds out...). Sack wants Tony to hit Old Man Carmine; Tony pulls out at the last moment. Sack looks to be vengeful.
Season Five: The big trouble all starts here, with the release of the "Class of '84". It's like four Richie Apriles. Tony has a lotta plates to spin: an old-timer named Feech who wants it all, locally, Tony's cousin Tony B, the "Rockford Guy" (Joe Santos) who Tony B idolizes as a father, and a real hothead named Phil Leotardo.
Carmine Sr. croaks. Phil joins with Sack against Little Carmine, Tony B joins with the Rockford Guy and Rusty in backing Little Carmine's play. Tony elects to back off and see how Jersey can benefit from the ensuing bloodshed, of which there is a lot.
During all this, two little matters occur: Seeking owed cash, Tony subjects Phil Leotardo to a body-breaking car crash and beats up Phil at the accident site as a "throw-in." Tony B kills Phil's brother Billy Leotardo.
In retrospect, these last two actions were perhaps...unfortunate.
Sack and Phil kill more guys than Little Carmine's team. Little caves ("It's a stagmire.") Sack ascends to Donhood. Tony can deal with Sack (having killed Tony B as a burnt offering), and Sack will stave off the still vengeful Phil Leotardo.
But right at the end of Season Five, the Feds nab Sack. Go directly to jail.
Season 6A: Sack's in prison, but the putative boss, with Phil fronting him on the outside. Tony's shot for a few episodes. The "gay Vito issue" gives Phil new reason for putting the pressure on Tony's Jersey boys. With Sack losing power by the day, Phil contemplates his rages against Tony: getting beaten up by Tony, paying money to Tony, brother killed by the cousin of Tony, gay Vito protected by Tony. Phil has a heart attack to match Tony's gutshot. Things seem peaceful between these two wounded warriors. But this guy Butch turns up, taunting Tony.
Season 6B. Tony's luck with New York runs out, via a series of crap outs: Sack dies of cancer; Doc kills Gerry; Phil kills Doc.. Phil is "the big boss man," finally, and the worst possible New York Don Tony Soprano could face. Filled with jailhouse vengeance and itching to consolidate power, Phil pushes Tony too far (with the sexual insult of Coco towards Meadow, ultimately). Tony retaliates (curbing); Phil says "there's nothing left to talk about," and here we are.
Now, I' m not sure how much of that was plotted early on by Chase and Company, but looking back on it, you see how this final, fatal gang war was literally years in the making. Tony Soprano fended off Jersey threats (Junior, Richie), kept the peace with Carmine Sr, dangerously dueled with Sack (the longest of Tony's strategic encounters), sat out the gang war to replace Carmine Sr...and ended up on the wrong end of Phil's bloody ascension to the throne of the New York Family.
Where things are now is where they HAVE to be. Inevitability.
--lucabrasi
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