Coffee at Luke's: An Unauthorized Gilmore Girls Gabfest (Smart Pop Series) (6 page)

Read Coffee at Luke's: An Unauthorized Gilmore Girls Gabfest (Smart Pop Series) Online

Authors: Jennifer Crusie,Leah Wilson

Tags: #Humor & Entertainment, #Television, #History & Criticism

BOOK: Coffee at Luke's: An Unauthorized Gilmore Girls Gabfest (Smart Pop Series)
7.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 
Ostensibly, Lorelai is the quintessential unwed (and still single) mother made good. Since she ran away from home, pregnant, at sixteen, she has made it her purpose to prevent her daughter from making the same mistakes Lorelai did and therefore give her all the opportunities Lorelai missed out on in her own youth. But here is largely where this particular stereotype ends and the story begins to play against type. Lorelai’s parents are wealthy socialites, and did not throw her out, even after the birth of her daughter Rory (though there is little doubt they drove her away). Upon running away, she took her newborn baby
from
the city to a seemingly conservative small town, where she was embraced by the townspeople and given work at the Independence Inn, a metaphor if ever there was one. By the time the first season began nearly sixteen years later, Lorelai was managing the prosperous establishment with a competence that belied her behavior away from work. Moreover, her attitude in regard to raising her daughter was to be the “cool mom”: the best friend. While there is nothing unusual about the “cool mom” character in television shows, Lorelai takes it to a new level. While Rory was living at home, there was no punishment and few rules (with most of these appearing to be enforced by Rory), and the relationship was as close to equality as a parent-child relationship can get. Lorelai was in charge, but with Rory’s permission:
RORY: The longer you wait the harder it’s gonna be.
 
LORELAI: For the love of God, will you please ring the bell.
 
RORY: You can tell them before dinner.
 
LORELAI: I will tell them when I’m ready to tell them. You have to accept that because I’m the mother and you’re the daughter, and in some cultures, that means you have to do what I say.
 
RORY: If you don’t tell them in two weeks, I will.
 
LORELAI: Though apparently not in this one. (“Hammers And Veils,” 2-2)
 
 
 
Rory was what many people would consider “the perfect daughter.” She was kind, friendly, hard-working, well-mannered, über-smart, and remarkably well-behaved. Despite being a quiet bookworm, she somehow avoided being labeled a “geek,” though it is never exactly clear where she fits socially. There was in fact an episode addressing this very issue in the second season, in which the Chilton headmaster attempted to force her into a group—any group, because “universities do not look kindly on loners” (“Like Mother, Like Daughter,” 2-7). Her maturity defied her age, and more often than not she was presented as the “adult” in the mother-daughter relationship. Rory’s occasionally exasperated tolerance of her mother’s antics is amusing, and it is she who sometimes has to draw a line or even call a halt to proceedings.
 
RORY: Usually I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming to go to dinner. . . . You whine, you complain, you act like a child.
 
LORELAI: I do not.
 
RORY: I had to pay you five bucks once so you wouldn’t go in sweats. (The Third Lorelai,” 1-18)
 
 
This should not suggest that Lorelai is irresponsible or a bad mother; Rory herself is a reflection of Lorelai’s parenting savvy, as is the high regard in which the rest of the town holds the pair. Clearly, the townspeople consider themselves to be surrogate parents to Rory, providing stability, guidance, and care. They take a startling interest in her every step, attend all her birthdays, share her every joy and sorrow, and display a willingness to take up pitchforks if anyone hurts her (such as after the car accident with Jess). Nevertheless, ultimately it is Lorelai who must be given the credit, because perhaps most importantly, love and affection are never in short supply.
 
It is not that Lorelai does not ever display any parental behavior; she can certainly be the “mother” instead of the “best friend” when necessary. This has been demonstrated in her refusal to lie to Lane’s mother (the “mother’s code”); her opposition to Jess’s interest in Rory and her rampaging behavior after he crashed Rory’s car; her anger and concern when Rory did not return until dawn after her first dance; and perhaps most impressively, when she dragged the two recalcitrant sixteen-year-olds she was chaperoning (Paris’s friends Madeline and Louise) out of a wild party in an apartment in New York while Rory and Paris watched in wonder. Still, the vast majority of Lorelai and Rory’s interactions are far from typical, and there are rarely repercussions to their unorthodox relationship except for the occasional argument, as Lorelai expects Rory to make mistakes and learn from them immediately . . . though in
Gilmore Girls
’s world, Rory generally does. The writers are of course aware of the discrepancy between this and the usual expectations for mother-daughter relationships, and cleverly highlight and poke gentle fun at the unusual relationship from time to time, even as early as the pilot episode, which helps to shave the edges of saccharine sweetness from the show. Lorelai’s reaction to Rory’s acceptance at the exclusive private school, Chilton, demonstrated the mocking wit fans would come to enjoy:
This is it. She can finally go to Harvard like she’s always wanted and get the education that I never got and get to do all the things that I never got to do and then I can resent her for it and we can finally have a normal mother-daughter relationship (“Pilot,” 1-1).
 
 
 
Lorelai is such a good mother, her relationship with her daughter so thoroughly based on respect and equality, that upon being introduced to her parents, Richard and Emily, it is almost impossible to believe that she ever spent a day in their home, let alone was raised by them. They are New England aristocracy, complete with
Mayflower
and Revolutionary ancestry, with all of the traditions and history. They are wealthy, not simply through “old” family money, but also Richard’s success in insurance. The house is a showpiece of vast, rarely used rooms, and although perfect for Emily’s famous cocktail parties, the remainder of the time the house exudes an over-decorated austerity. It is difficult to imagine Lorelai being a child in that house; she seems out of place enough as an adult: her animated movements and even more energized personality seem stifled by—or dangerous to—the grand house. There are times when Lorelai’s membership in the family seems to have been some mistake, as if the chauffer collected the wrong child from pre-school one day (one imagines they may have noticed if it happened in junior high). It is not even as if Lorelai was raised by servants, as it is clear that Emily was largely a hands-on mother; her need for control would allow nothing less. But as the show progresses, there are occasional glimpses of Emily in Lorelai, and more significantly, aspects of both Emily and Richard in Rory. She displays the best of her parents and grandparents; any other combination of their traits could have had a volatile, if not downright frightening, outcome, one that would have made Damien seem like a Brady.
 
It would be easy to assume that Lorelai was not loved enough, but that would be unfair. Displays of affection might have been rare, but love was obviously never an issue. Lorelai’s parents would have given their child the world—she just didn’t want the world they had to offer. Psychoanalysis aside, it becomes obvious that they simply agree on few things and have little in common—except Rory, of course—and compromise seems difficult for both Lorelai and her parents. It was Rory who reunited them after sixteen years of limited and infrequent contact (as Emily commented in the pilot: “Is it Easter already?”); the weekly visits were initially a condition of a loan to Lorelai for Rory’s schooling, and Rory hit it off with her grandparents almost immediately. Lorelai’s relationship with them, however, remained a little like the Middle East: volatile, plagued with frequent misunderstandings, and visited by periods of eerie calm. (Peace talks always end without clear resolutions and generally lead to bloodshed.) In a mostly light and amusing show, it is sometimes achingly sad—but remarkably realistic—to watch these three decent people repeatedly sabotage any improvement in their relationships. It is a credit to Rory that she has not succumbed to the urge to knock all their heads together—though one wonders if it might be worthwhile.
 
Rory is clearly more comfortable in her grandparents’ world than her mother ever had been. Initially, her good relations with them could have been attributed to her politeness and attempts to make them happy (it seems Rory’s mission in life to attempt to ensure everyone’s happiness). However, it soon became obvious that it was no façade. The most obvious breakthrough came during Rory’s trip with Richard to the Gilmores’ country club. After the preliminary awkwardness, a conversation on travel broke the ice and they found mutual interests; suddenly everything changed. He introduced her to his friends with obvious pride, and she in turn made a good impression. By lunch they were sharing gossip and a firm relationship had been forged. Emily setting aside her pride and attending Rory’s sixteenth birthday party had a similar effect, but although an affectionate relationship developed between them, they share no interests the way Richard and Rory do.
 
Lorelai was surprised at how quickly Rory bonded with her grandparents and put much of it down to Rory’s good nature, as she was sure they were manipulating Rory in order to unsettle, or at least irritate, Lorelai:
EMILY: Well, isn’t this interesting? You’re afraid.
 
LORELAI: Of what?
 
EMILY: That Rory will enjoy the club and have a good time without you.
 
LORELAI: That’s crazy.
 
EMILY: I agree.
 
LORELAI: I’m not afraid.
 
EMILY: Then let her go.
 
LORELAI: She won’t enjoy it, Mom. . . . Believe it or not, this is not about you.
 
EMILY: Of course it’s about me. If Rory goes and has a good time without you, then I win. (“Kill Me Now,” 1-3)
 
 
 
But it is the relationship between Rory and Richard that most perturbs her: she is even a little hurt and jealous. Lorelai’s relationship with her mother has always been volatile, though they have their good moments, but it appears she is almost permanently estranged from her father. It is apparent that he has never known how to deal with her—talk to or interact with her—and his disappointment in her is palpable. To see him making such an effort with Rory is particularly galling. Although Lorelai and Richard’s relationship has gradually improved (in tiny increments) over the ensuing years, it has never become completely comfortable. The problems were made particularly poignant as she rushed to his side when he was admitted to hospital:
LORELAI: I feel like this is one of those moments when I should be remembering all the great times I had with my dad, you know. The time he took me shopping for a Barbie or to the circus or fishing and my mind is a complete blank.
 
LUKE: Well I’m sure it happened.
 
LORELAI: No it didn’t. We never did any of that. He went to work, he came home, he read the paper, he went to bed, I snuck out the window. Simple. He was a very by the numbers guy. I was never very good with numbers.
 
LUKE: I’m sure he loves you. . . .
 
LORELAI: You know my dad is not a bad guy.
 
LUKE: I’m sure he’s not.
 
LORELAI: He lived his life the way he thought he was supposed to. He followed the rules taught to him by his non-fishing-non-Barbie-buying dad. He worked hard. He bought a nice house. He provided for my mom. All he asked in return was for his daughter to wear white dresses and go to cotillion and want the same life that he had. What a disappointment it must have been for him to get me. (“Forgiveness and Stuff,” 1-10)
 
 
 
It does not take a psychology major to realize that Rory is the daughter Richard and Emily had wanted—and expected, though never achieved—in Lorelai. Her direction in life, in addition to her quiet nature and eagerness to please, fits into their expectations: a prestigious private school; an Ivy League college. They were also particularly anxious that these plans not be derailed, as Lorelai’s were, by a boyfriend, and all that might entail:
LORELAI: I don’t think my father has ever loved anything in this world as much as he loves you. Now, that having been established, let’s just consider that maybe this flip-out tonight actually came from somewhere that possibly has nothing to do with Dean and very possibly has nothing to do with you.
 
RORY: What are you talking about?
 
LORELAI: You are the great white hope of the Gilmore clan. You are their angel sent from up above. You are the daughter they didn’t have. (“Sadie, Sadie,” 2-1)
 
 
 
Ironically, it is the tolerant and for the most part sensible upbringing provided by Lorelai that allows Rory to move easily between the world of her grandparents and the world of Stars Hollow. She willingly (if a little cautiously) takes part in events with her grandparents that Lorelai had been unwilling or unable to do, particularly demonstrated by the debutante ball and the Yale-Harvard football game. In fact, it could be suggested that her major acts of rebellion against her upbringing (i.e., her mother) generally involve her grandparents: dropping out of Yale, her relationship with Logan, perhaps even the above-mentioned social activities that her mother was so relieved to escape. The senior Gilmores have all but given up on Lorelai, instead pouring their hopes and dreams into Rory, but Rory rarely takes advantage of the situation. She asks nothing of them until her high school graduation when she approaches them for a loan to help pay for college. This was probably her most significant act of rebellion, even though it was done to assist Lorelai in fulfilling her dream of opening an inn of her own.

Other books

Nightwalker by Connie Hall
Distract my hunger by X. Williamson
Under a Bear Moon by Carrie S. Masek
Smoke by Elizabeth Ruth
Turning Payne by Chantel Seabrook
Carnal in Cannes by Jianne Carlo