When I was very young, I started having terrible and specific nightmares. Eventually, my parents figured out that my babysitter was letting me watch soap operas with her, and that was the source of my dreams of drownings, shootings, marriages and twins. I've never much been interested in soap operas since.
So maybe I am not the target audience for "The Gilded Age," Julian Fellowes' New York City high society drama set in 1882. Centering on rich families, particularly two houses across the street from each other, the episodic HBO show feels more "Days of our Lives" than Fellowes' past historical hit, "Downton Abbey." But while Christine Baranski steals the scenes, as always, and Carrie Coon is foreboding as a new money matriarch, one character in particular did stick out to me. Literally.
