Showing posts with label The Remains of the DAy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Remains of the DAy. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Butler Has Feelings

Lo and behold, the butler has feelings!   Not only does Lord Darlington notice tears on his face during his father's final evening, he reads romance novels.  Of course, he has reasons for allowing himself to feel emotion -- something that simply does not fit into his concept of a butler.   

The tears that Lord Darlington sees are the only evidence of his grief as his father is clearly dying.  The last conversation he has with him is as formal and stilted as any other up to this part in the book.  Is he remembering the conversations accurately, or is he portraying himself the way he wishes his audience to see him?   His actions that evening show that his job took precedence over his grief, but I can understand that in a way.  When my father died, I only took one day off from classes simply because being at the university distracted me; I could not stay home and allow the grief to swallow me.   I had to deal with those feelings eventually, but it was easier to only allow them space in small increments of time.  However, Mr. Stevens, the butler, does not seem to go back and deal with any of his dismissed and denied emotions, unless it is throughout the course of this narration.

Just as he put his grief aside, he pushes anything he feels for Miss Kenton so deep that he can deny that he feels anything at all beyond a professional respect.  Even that respect is limited as she never quite measures up to his view of a perfect housekeeper.  May only Data from Startrek could be a perfect servant, completing tasks efficiently and thoroughly without letting those pesky feelings get in the way.

One also has to question Mr. Stevens' loyalty to Lord Darlington.  He constantly defends him, but lies about having worked for him.  He provides reasons for Darlington's pre-war allegiances, but not all of them ring quite true.  I find myself wanting to know more about what happened after the war and whether all the other nobles who criticized him were really inviting the same people to be guests at their table.

The romance novels that Mr. Stevens read are the oddest twist so far.  He claims to read them in order to improve his English.   I read cheap romance novels as a way to improve my German, but German was my second language; at that time even the newspaper was still challenging to read for me, but the novels were written at a far lower level.  Mr. Stevens clearly already had the language skills so one must believe that he was a romantic at heart.  

I read a poem by Robert Graves earlier this year about repressing his sexuality.  This theme is also apparent in his autobiography.  Here it is again in this novel.   I know this is a stereotypical view of the English, but I don't know that the English are any different from the Germans and Americans that I know.  All traits appear to some degree or another in every culture that I've encountered.  It will be interesting to see how this novel continues and whether Mr. Stevens finds true love at the end of his journey.

Monday, July 15, 2013

The Remains of the Day

The Remains of the Day is an interesting juxtaposition to Goodbye to All That in that it provides a butler's viewpoint to Edwardian upper class society.  It is interesting that the narrator's view of the English countryside, English people, and a good butler have a common thread of dignity and understatement.  Of course, not everyone fits into his tidy little box of hard-to-define rules.  One gets the impression that even as his father began to become less proficient as a butler-now-houseman, the narrator is more offended by this failure than understanding of the diminishing physical ability that comes to everyone who ages.  It is difficult to glean whether the father feels the same way or whether his reticence comes from shame.  Their conversation is surreal with the narrator referring to his father in the third person.   It seems that this inability to communicate with each other started before the narrator hired his father, the man who originally trained him,  as a an under-servant.   As often happens in families, the roles of father and son are reversed, but this time in a professional environment with little -- or maybe no -- hint of a family relationship.   The narrator clearly admires his father, even puts him on a pedestal, which makes it hard to understand why he would assign him living quarters more suitable to a young housemaid than to a respected and retired butler.

The narrator also continues to refer to the former housekeeper by her maiden name instead of her married name.  Does this indicate a desire to deny that she was married (and therefore emotionally involved) with another man?   I still remember the maiden names of my best friends from high school, but over the years their married names have become a part of them.  It feel that it would be disrespectful to refer to them by their maiden names, especially those of them who have had long and successful marriages.   That brings me back to the book.  The narrator states that Miss Benton has moved out of her marital home and appears to find some pleasure in that idea.  He couches it in terms of not letting a private life interfere with one's professional life, but I think there is more to it than that.  Underneath all the stuffy rules and disparagement of those who do not meet them there may be some real emotion.   I hope I'll find out before the end of the book!