As “Girls” came to a close this Sunday, I couldn’t help but think of the first time Lena Dunham’s unapologetic nakedness graced my screen. While Venus of Urbino may have prompted nervous laughter and blushing the first time I saw it in a high school art history class, my first reaction to Dunham’s nudity was personally revolutionary. Though I was in awe of both nude forms, the latter stirred a reaction that can only be caused by an immediate visceral connection to something. As I watched a protagonist eat cereal in her underwear, brush her teeth without a top and video chat a friend from the toilet, I began to realize how different this show was going to be from any other I had experienced. Dunham’s character, Hannah, was not baring it all on account of preparing to have sex or going skinny-dipping or marching on the streets to make a statement — she was naked because in our lives, sometimes, we do things without clothes on. And from that beginning, I knew the show was going to be ground-breaking in its honesty and rawness.
One day, after a lengthy and self-indulgent speech about the importance of an episode centering around Hannah’s three-day affair with a stranger, the unlucky friend subjected to my monologue finally cracked: “Stop overthinking it!” But how could I not? From abortion to addiction, coming-out to career choices: The vast scope of topics covered by “Girls” is paralleled in size only by the quantity of criticism the show has received. Reaching past the blogosphere and into the likes of the New Yorker and the New York Times, the conversations about the show’s lack of diversity, extent to which Hannah is representative of Dunham and advancement of feminism — or the advancement of white feminism — is everywhere. “Girls” has proven to be something worth “overthinking.”
While Hannah’s literal nudity in mundane moments was what initially spoke to me, I am primarily left appreciating the characters’ willingness to expose themselves, metaphorically speaking. In baring more than just tattoos and flesh, true nude forms — composed of personality warts and the scars of bad decisions — were exposed in “Girls.” Among the show’s commentary, what has interested me the most is the noted absence of any obviously likable main character. To simplify: Marnie is uptight, Jessa is careless, Shoshana is strange and Hannah is melodramatic. All four are coated with membranes of narcissism that are as impenetrable as they are familiar to us viewers. After years of being primed to latch onto the token smart or charming or perfect heroine of a story laden with admirable men, I left the first few episodes of “Girls” feeling disoriented. Maybe, I thought, I don’t “get” Hannah. Regardless of her personality quirks, she’s probably a good person. Wrong. And that is not to say Hannah is a “bad” person either; rather, the show simply does not work on this binary. Perhaps the argument is that even fictitious lives are far too complicated to fit under a standard of “this or that.” Regardless, the characters vacillate on a continuum, and often the question of general decency is not at the crux of any of the central quartet’s decisions.
The truth is, I find “Girls” so easy to identify with because I’m not sure if I would be a likeable protagonist in my own story. Among embodying every unpleasant quality of the “Girls” girls at different moments, I have additional sour attributes that would probably pan out grossly on screen. But the show seems to argue that it’s fine — it’s real — to not be someone that others seek to identify with. Instead, Girls says, live a life of choices where you can identify the you in yourself. This is not an excuse to do whatever you want without regard for others: Instead, the show preaches acting via your own intuition rather than in accordance with a feeling of being watched.
All this said, Dunham’s show will not make it on the list of ones I watch over and over in times of stress (which also happen to be the times when watching TV is the last thing I should be doing). As appalling as this sounds after my lengthy ode, let me explain: While the Office’s jokes and Gossip Girl’s drama will always be as entertaining as they are distracting, the aforementioned sentiments of relatability I find in the “Girls” characters will prevent me from ever re-watching the series for hours on end. This is partially because I would prefer more mindless diversion during finals period when a binge is in order. But mainly, I am confident that I will be graced by reminders of the “Girls” girls for the rest of my time at Brown and afterwards. Being human, we are peculiar and make unwise choices — no one is exempt from having moments of being severely unlikable. As one tearful character says to another during the series’ penultimate episode, in a moment that seems to encapsulate the show’s entire premise: “We were all just doing our best.”
Rebecca Okin ’19 is looking for a new show to overthink and can be reached at rebecca_okin@brown.edu. Please send responses to this opinion to letters@browndailyherald.com and other op-eds to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
