If devotees of "The Good Wife" on CBS scrutinize the elegant, soothing Chicago apartment of Alicia Florrick, they can spot a subtle but symbolic motif: the butterfly.
True, subtext is easier to parse when you're touring the show's sets in Brooklyn. That's when you notice the living room coasters with butterfly designs, the butterfly in plexiglass on a bathroom shelf and the butterfly wings, framed and mounted, on the bathroom wall.
They imply fragility but also freedom, just like Alicia, who for two seasons has been testing her working-mother wings as a lawyer in the wake of her husband's Eliot Spitzer-like fall.
Certainly, the prime-time drama pays homage to the legal procedural. But it is also a heightened exploration of how several generations of fully realized female characters clamber for control and identity in the dense, slippery politics of home and office.
As these women move from moral absolutes toward gray zones of pragmatic compromise with humor, erotic longing and vulnerabilities, they have been mesmerizing about 13.6 million viewers per episode, 65 percent of them women, and have been a time-period winner for viewers age 25 to 54, according to Nielsen Media Research. Across the Internet, comments analyze their motives, options and work clothes.
(This season Alicia's officewear has become more beautifully tailored, colorful and expensive, said Daniel Lawson, the costume designer, to express her growing confidence and income.)
But in a pivotal episode last month, Alicia (Julianna Margulies) was sucker-punched.
Just before Election Day, with her husband running for state's attorney, she told an interviewer that she had forgiven his philandering and affirmed her passion for work as well as family. On election eve, wearing a bold red sheath, she accepted congratulations for swaying voters.