In continuation of our little literary takes on
gracefulness and gentleness, shall we turn our attention next to Japanese-born British author Kazuo
Ishiguro who again has some wonderful takes on the subject.
The renowned Eliotian
phrase, ‘The what might have beens of life’ would sure augur well with his
Booker prize winning 1989 novel titled, The
Remains of the Day. Most of the characters in this highly intriguing novel,
go into counterfactual mode, and think about how things could have turned out
differently. Be it the protagonist Mr. Stevens, the head butler of Darlington
Hall, or his father William Stevens, or the butler’s romantic interest Miss
Kenton, each has a pining for the counterfactual, for their own personal reasons!
But nay! Counterfactuals
and reminiscences are not for our takes here on this particular post. This one’s
for an amazing character in the novel who endears himself to us because of his gracefulness
and gentleness all through!
Stevens the butler and protagonist to the novel, wants to be always dignified, gentle and
graceful in his demeanour and code of conduct towards Lord Darlington, his master and employer! Though
Stevens intuitively believed that Darlington was being used by the Nazis to
serve their hidden agenda, he had an unswerving loyalty and trust on his master
that he did not even warn him on this aspect.
Stevens here takes
after his father [Stevens Senior] who was always known for his loyalty towards
his master. The gentleman that he was, Stevens Senior had eschewed gossip, vain and
frivolous talk all through his life!
There’s one particular
incident, when he [Stevens Senior!] had to chauffeur around three gentlemen.
These three ‘gentlemen of repute’ were found all the time gossiping and
indulging in vain talk all through their ride in the car, and things became
worse when the trio began speaking ill of Steven’s own employer!
Here goes just
excerpts from off this particular scene from the novel that serves such an
amazing piece of character study! Every line has a subtle take on the quality
of a ‘gentleman’! Shall we then, together now, proceed to read from Kazuo's Remains of the Day!
Well, here we go -
One afternoon, Mr Charles to his shame and regret had
allowed himself to become inebriated in the company of two fellow guests -
gentlemen I shall merely call Mr Smith and Mr Jones since they are likely to be
still remembered in certain circles.
After an hour or so of drinking, these two gentlemen decided
they wished to go for an afternoon drive around the local villages - a motor
car around this time still being something of a novelty.
They persuaded Mr Charles to accompany them, and since the
chauffeur was on leave at that point, enlisted my father to drive the car.
Once they had set off, Mr Smith and Mr Jones, for all their
being well into their middle years, proceeded to behave like schoolboys,
singing coarse songs and making even coarser comments on all they saw from the
window.
Furthermore, these gentlemen had noticed on the local map
three villages in the vicinity called Morphy, Saltash and Brigoon. Now I am not
entirely sure these were the exact names, but the point was they reminded Mr
Smith and Mr Jones of the music hall act, Murphy, Saltman and Brigid the Cat,
of which you may have heard. Upon noticing this curious coincidence, the gentlemen
then gained an ambition to visit the three villages in question – in honour, as
it were, of the music hall artistes.
According to Mr Charles, my father had duly driven to one
village and was on the point of entering a second when either Mr Smith or Mr J
ones noticed the village was Brigoon - that is to say the third, not the
second, name of the sequence.
They demanded angrily that my father turn the car
immediately so that the villages could be visited 'in the correct order'. It so
happened that this entailed doubling back a considerable way of the route, but,
so Mr Charles assures me, my father accepted the request as though it were a
perfectly reasonable one, and in general, continued to behave with immaculate
courtesy.
But Mr Smith's and Mr Jones's attention had now been drawn
to my father and no doubt rather bored with what the view outside had to offer,
they proceeded to amuse themselves by shouting out unflattering remarks concerning
my father's 'mistake'.
Mr Charles remembered marvelling at how my father showed not
one hint of discomfort or anger, but continued to drive with an expression
balanced perfectly between personal dignity and readiness to oblige.
My father's equanimity was not, however, allowed to last.
For when they had wearied of hurling insults at my father's back, the two
gentlemen began to discuss their host - that is to say, my father's employer,
Mr John Silvers.
The remarks grew ever more debased and treacherous so that
Mr Charles - at least so he claimed - was obliged to intervene with the
suggestion that such talk was bad form. This view was contradicted with such
energy that Mr Charles, quite aside from worrying he would become the next
focus of the gentlemen's attention, actually thought himself in danger of
physical assault.
But then suddenly, following a particularly heinous
insinuation against his employer, my father brought the car to an abrupt halt.
It was what happened next that had made such an indelible impression upon Mr
Charles.
The rear door of the car opened and my father was observed
to be standing there, a few steps back from the vehicle, gazing steadily into
the interior.
As Mr Charles described it, all three passengers seemed to
be overcome as one by the realization of what an imposing physical force my
father was. Indeed, he was a man of some six feet three inches, and his
countenance, though reassuring while one knew he was intent on obliging, could
seem extremely forbidding viewed in certain other contexts.
According to Mr Charles, my father did not display any
obvious anger. He had, it seemed, merely opened the door. And yet there was
something so powerfully rebuking, and at the same time so unassailable about
his figure looming over them that Mr Charles's two drunken companions seemed to
cower back like small boys caught by the farmer in the act of stealing apples.
My father had proceeded to stand there for some moments,
saying nothing, merely holding open the door. Eventually, either Mr Smith or Mr
Jones had remarked: "Are we not going on with the journey?"
My father did not reply, but continued to stand there
silently, neither demanding disembarkation nor offering any clue as to his
desires or intentions. I can well imagine how he must have looked that day,
framed by the doorway of the vehicle, his dark, severe presence quite blotting
out the effect of the gentle Hertfordshire scenery behind him. Those were, Mr Charles
recalls, strangely unnerving moments during which he too, despite not having
participated in the preceding behaviour, felt engulfed with guilt.
The silence seemed to go on interminably, before either Mr
Smith or Mr Jones found it in him to mutter: "I suppose we were talking a
little out of turn there. It won't happen again."
A moment to consider this, then my father had closed the
door gently, returned to the wheel and had proceeded to continue the tour of
the three villages - a tour, Mr Charles assured me, that was completed
thereafter in near silence.
Now, this particular
incident made me ponder awhile and wonder awhile on the ‘high-culture’ or ‘high-brow’
indecency, which Kazuo Ishiguro, Nobel Laureate beautifully brings out through
a subtle and nuanced portrayal of their shameful and demeaning character traits!
Although
the three are called ‘gentlemen’ from the so-called higher echelons of society, or what Kingsley
Amis would call, ‘highbrow’ culture, they behaved in such indecent and shameless ways. One
among them, Mr Charles ‘to his shame and regret’ had even allowed himself to become
inebriated in the company of two fellow guests, and all the three indulged in
gossiping of the highest order, character assassinations, proceeded to behave
like schoolboys, singing coarse songs and making even coarser comments on all
they saw from the window.
Kazuo here presents such
a beautiful picture of contrast! ‘All that glitters is not gold’ he seems to
say!
Kazuo Ishiguro also
drives home the message that, although people of the so-called elitist culture,
or high-brow culture may call themselves ‘gentlemen’ of their own sweet volition,
thanks to their status, their class, their wealth and their social standing,
yet, graceful manners, loyalty and gentleness are character traits that are so far
removed from their highbrow lives! These lovely characteristics, on the other hand,
seem to be gracefully embedded only in people from the so-called lower echelons
of society, on people like William Stevens who never ever indulged in vain
gossip of any sort, or in character assassinations like the so-called ‘gentlemen’
did!
To be continued…
images: amazondotcom & good ol' tintinseries for representative purposes.
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