a forest of trees made of money and planted in privilege
A couple of months ago, ayun and TheHippie had invited me over to their place to watch the PBS premiere of Downton Abbey Season 3. I had heard of the series before, but didn't pay much attention to it. Historically, I have been an erstwhile TV watcher, flitting between one series or another as they have caught my interest; from Six Feet Under to Battlestar Galactica to Mad Men to Game Of Thrones. Never more than one series at a time and sometimes years between bouts. I was flattered that ayun had invited me but I confessed to her that I was trepidatious about joining midway between seasons.
"The two prior seasons are BBC short," she said, "and they're available on Netflix instant streaming, but it's a lot of TV to watch in a week for an excuse to come over to our place and drink gin."
Still, that weekend a friend who was supposed to be visiting from out of town bailed on her plans, so I woke to an idle and open Saturday morning, and while sitting down with an omelette and cup of coffee, decided to give the first episode a shot.
Oh my god.
Within fifteen minutes I knew that I was peering into an abyss of time, but what an abyss. I had initially demoted this show because so much of the praise that I had heard was about some of the more superficial and glamorous aspects of aristocratic English life -- the clothes and the parties and the witty dinner table conversation. And, yes, I like an Oscar Wilde-an comedy of manners as much as the next person, but what had really hooked me was the fact that it was really about the interaction between the gentry and their servants, and how the whole had been this one extensive family. That it was all wrapped up with writing that was like Evelyn Waugh elegance treated with Michael Bay explosiveness was just a bonus.
When describing the series to friends, I would say that "it gets compared to Mad Men because it's a critical look at what some may see as a hallowed past, taking a wide-eyed view of a time that had its charm and elegance layered on top of multiple layers of social dysfunction, teetering on the edge of change. However, a big difference is that the characters aren't assholes."
I think if there is one thing that keeps me coming back to this show, again and again, it's been the sense that the characters, both high born and common, have a genuine affection for each other. Servants stand up for their employers, and the masters of the house look after those who've worked for them. It's touching to see people using wealth and power for more than their own self-enrichment, even if it is built on a foundation of gross inequality and hinged on what can be a crushing sense of obligation.
Season 3 starts after the First World War, where the conflict has left England dissipated and social changes brought on by the changing role of women and the middle class have started to make themselves felt. The patriarch of the family worries to himself that he "feels like an animal whose habitat is slowly dwindling." and when re-watching it again with loxocele I joked with her, "yeah, a forest of privilege where money really does grow on trees."
Still, even with that snark I couldn't help but compare those times to our own, where the gap in wealth seems to be widening, and the current aristocracy having less of a need for servants or a social contract. I wouldn't pine for the days of patriarchy or social immobility, but a sense of how the relationship between classes could be symbiotic, how privileges came with obligation and how wealth had to serve a purpose greater than one's ego. That was something that we may be missing.
We could also do with more snarky British countesses, because who doesn't love snarky British countesses?
"The two prior seasons are BBC short," she said, "and they're available on Netflix instant streaming, but it's a lot of TV to watch in a week for an excuse to come over to our place and drink gin."
Still, that weekend a friend who was supposed to be visiting from out of town bailed on her plans, so I woke to an idle and open Saturday morning, and while sitting down with an omelette and cup of coffee, decided to give the first episode a shot.
Oh my god.
Within fifteen minutes I knew that I was peering into an abyss of time, but what an abyss. I had initially demoted this show because so much of the praise that I had heard was about some of the more superficial and glamorous aspects of aristocratic English life -- the clothes and the parties and the witty dinner table conversation. And, yes, I like an Oscar Wilde-an comedy of manners as much as the next person, but what had really hooked me was the fact that it was really about the interaction between the gentry and their servants, and how the whole had been this one extensive family. That it was all wrapped up with writing that was like Evelyn Waugh elegance treated with Michael Bay explosiveness was just a bonus.
When describing the series to friends, I would say that "it gets compared to Mad Men because it's a critical look at what some may see as a hallowed past, taking a wide-eyed view of a time that had its charm and elegance layered on top of multiple layers of social dysfunction, teetering on the edge of change. However, a big difference is that the characters aren't assholes."
I think if there is one thing that keeps me coming back to this show, again and again, it's been the sense that the characters, both high born and common, have a genuine affection for each other. Servants stand up for their employers, and the masters of the house look after those who've worked for them. It's touching to see people using wealth and power for more than their own self-enrichment, even if it is built on a foundation of gross inequality and hinged on what can be a crushing sense of obligation.
Season 3 starts after the First World War, where the conflict has left England dissipated and social changes brought on by the changing role of women and the middle class have started to make themselves felt. The patriarch of the family worries to himself that he "feels like an animal whose habitat is slowly dwindling." and when re-watching it again with loxocele I joked with her, "yeah, a forest of privilege where money really does grow on trees."
Still, even with that snark I couldn't help but compare those times to our own, where the gap in wealth seems to be widening, and the current aristocracy having less of a need for servants or a social contract. I wouldn't pine for the days of patriarchy or social immobility, but a sense of how the relationship between classes could be symbiotic, how privileges came with obligation and how wealth had to serve a purpose greater than one's ego. That was something that we may be missing.
We could also do with more snarky British countesses, because who doesn't love snarky British countesses?