“You don’t know the depths of someone’s power ’til their funeral — it’s so sad,” Hannah tells Adam. That characterization of death is certainly sad! Everything’s sad. ‘GIRLS’ in black letters. Sh*t’s dark.
The pair attend services for Hannah’s eBook editor David — dear, sweet, gay David, sexy and he knew it, a loving husband and professional grindr ’til the end. Once there, Hannah’s mistaken by David’s grieving wife Annalise (guest star Jennifer Westfeldt, pictured) for a different e-memoirist, one with even more glamorous/memorable obstacles she had to overcome — Tourette’s, obesity — and obviously Hannah must take this personally because this funeral is mostly about her (and Zadie Smith). Mill Street has dropped all of David’s projects, it turns out. Well, screw this — boring ol’ OCD Hannah is outta here — but not until she scores a sweet new publishing contact from the bereaved.
“If I do give you another name, will you get the f*ck out of here?” Annalise seethes after Hannah seizes this primo networking opportunity. All in all, it’s been a pretty productive afternoon! For Hannah.
And her power trip continues as Hannah sets up a meeting with a new publisher and confidently pulls on a beige crop top, emblazoned with lizards, that would flatter exactly zero human beings on this earth. Perhaps she’s letting it all hang out in honor of David, who liked to show his ankles. It’s a silly comparison, of course. “What are other human beings?” Hannah might say. It just doesn’t work. Well, whatever: She’s Dr. Phil now.
Adam and Caroline have been arguing pretty much since they were born, and lonely only child Dr. Phil is sick of it. Hannah orchestrates an intervention between the “evil person who pukes on everything metaphorically… no drive, no real goals, but somehow tons of opinions” and… wait, which sibling is this? It’s Adam describing Caroline, but Hannah points out it sounds a lot like Adam, too. Huh? I thought this paragon of mediation was supposed to be on her boyfriend’s side! It’s confusing.
Somehow Caroline manages to correlate Adam’s romantic interest in Hannah with his repressed sexual desire for Caroline (I used to think she was just crazy, but now it’s clear she’s a mad genius), and we get major Billy and Brenda Chenowith vibes a la Six Feet Under as the two end up wrestling themselves into a decidedly sexual position on the couch. It’s too bad Hannah doesn’t find out until later in the episode that Mill Street will retain the rights to her memoir for three more years — I have no choice but to believe she’d have climbed on top and forced the siblings to make out like Barbie dolls as some sort of only-child/woman-child/doin’-it-for-my-Art revenge plot. That way she’d at least have had one usable story as she faces down the daunting next 25 years of life, in which maybe nothing will happen.
Hannah kicks Caroline out of the $2100 apartment I have NO idea who is paying for — but not without a few hateful zingers from Adam’s sister, namely “You will never write anything good” and “You slipped right out of your mother’s p*ssy like a golden egg, you spoiled little brat.” Again, this is all excellent material for phase two of Hannah’s memoir. How could she let this twisted font of life-fodder get away?
Later, Adam’s angry that Hannah didn’t consult him first. It’s a little surprising considering he never approved of Caroline staying with them in the first place. “I’m supposed to be taking care of her,” he says before storming out.
Hannah could have gotten a real book deal, according to a new editor and the lackey she loves to hate, Mo. They love Hannah because she’s self-deprecating about her weight and is super TMI, like, all the time. Hannah’s so high on herself after this meeting that she barely registers over the phone that her father’s had a minor surgical procedure — or that her cousin Rudy, who represents sandwiches, not art, discovered she can’t get the rights to her book because Mill Street already paid her.
Meanwhile, Marnie journeys to the bowels of Brooklyn to insult Ray and then beg him for advice on what’s wrong with her. In a nutshell? She’s extremely judgmental, unbearably uptight, she uses people, and basically she’s a “big fat f*cking phony.” You know the word “fat” hit Marnie the hardest as she buried her head in her hands. Now what? Hey, why not have sex? The two most-unlikely-to-hook-up characters may have something in common after all. They’re both lonely and willing to spend time with the other person. Isn’t that enough?
Jessa will take a job at a maternity store, for “a touch of innocence,” and Shoshanna totally needs to study or her 15-year-plan will be totally corrupted.
Thoughts about “Only Child”? Yay or nay on Marnie ‘n’ Ray? Discuss.