‘Downton Abbey’ Open Thread: War As Equalizer

This post contains spoilers through the first episode of the second season of Downton Abbey.

So, caveat! I am almost but not entirely caught up on the first season of Downton Abbey, so I am relying a little bit on Wikipedia for backstory here. I will be caught up by next week, but for now, please be merciful.

I really am struck by the atmosphere of creative destruction in this episode, the way the war clarifies and distills the characters priorities. I agree with critics who say that Downton Abbey is predictable, more a product of its genre than a subversion of it. But it’s the rare thing that both can be qualified that way and that is executed so strongly that it’s a bracing reminder of why these cliches exist and are powerful. Even when I can see something coming from a mile away, whether it’s a hand injured in the war, a maid’s disappointment or a nobleman’s wrongfooting, it still lands like a blow to the chest. And there are enough surprises that are true to character that there’s fresh air in it.

The walls between the upstairs and the downstairs were already crumbling in the first season, whether in Lord Grantham’s tie to Bates or Carson’s confession to Lady Mary that “even a butler has his favorites” after he reassures her that her life isn’t over yet. But the war’s brought them down in force, with Isobel as something of an intermediary. First, there’s Sybil, who, after realizing bitterly that “Sometimes it feels as if all the men I ever danced with are dead,” decides she wants to try nursing, and by extension, learn how to be a functional woman rather than an ornament of the aristocracy. “Have you ever made your own bed, for example? Or scrubbed a floor?” Isobel asks her gently. The scenes of Mrs. Patmore and Daisy trying to teach her how to do the simplest tasks, including filling a kettle without drenching herself, are kind, revealing Sybil’s foibles but helping her work beyond them. It’s fascinating to see Violet and Lady Grantham’s response to her desire. Violet, surprisingly, sides with Isobel, insisting that “You can’t pretend it’s not respectable when every day we’re treated to pictures of queens and princesses in a Red Cross uniform.” And Lady Grantham’s concern for Sybil ultimately undoes her objections: her daughter’s emotional well-being trumps her concerns with propriety. “I was worried about Lady Sibyl. But I’m not worried anymore,” she tells the butler. “Carson, the cake will be a surprise whether you approve of it or not, so please don’t give it away.”

Sybil’s road is easier than Lord Grantham’s in this episode. Upon finding out that Bates is leaving abruptly (after being blackmailed by his wife, who is threatening to expose Lady Mary), he’s injured, saying “I thought we were friends. I thought we’d crossed the great divide successfully.” But that sense isn’t informed by real work on his part to understand who Bates is. Sybil’s commitment to learning, to becoming a different kind of person, is vastly different than her father’s fall into misunderstanding. It’ll be fascinating to see if the war forces Lord Grantham to become a different kind of man, or even if he can, after learning he isn’t exactly being welcomed back into the ranks. “Today has shown me that I am not only a worthless man but a bad-tempered and ungrateful one,” he confesses to his wife. But will he live with that knowledge or use it as the foundation for a very different self?

Downstairs, things are more complicated. Carson is doing his best to hold on to old ways, not only expressing concern for Sybil’s future as a nurse, but keeping to the spit and polish because “Keeping up standards is the only way to show the Germans that they cannot win.” And everyone’s on edge over Ethel Parks, the new maid who’s replaced Gwen, who is not particularly shy about speaking aloud the dangerous desires of the heart. “I want the best and I’m not afraid to admit it,” she tells her colleagues. “At the end, I want to be more than just a servant.” It’s a dangerous thing to admit, and some of the other servants punish her for it. It’s not so much that the servants don’t have dreams, but to articulate them is to risk terrible disappointment.

Then, there are the trenches, where everyone’s uniforms are the same color. Courting injury to get sent home isn’t surprising, given the themes of cowardice and bravery that stream through the episode. But that flame in the darkness, the wait, the worry that it might be worse not to be shot than to be maimed were lovely and terrifying.