Downton Abbey: Belated Initial Impressions

Within the last few weeks–I don’t remember exactly when–I’ve started watching Downton Abbey on Netflix…more out of curiosity than anything else; now, I have some thoughts.

As fans–and people who’ve started watching this series before I have–know, Downton Abbey is set in England between 1912 and 1925; it begins with the aftermath of the sinking of the Titanic, and the backstory is that Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, married an American heiress, Cora Levinson (played by American actress Elizabeth McGovern, who I first learned about upon seeing the cover art on a video version of the 1988 film She’s Having a Baby),to obtain money to keep up Downton Abbey, but eventually fell in love with her. However, the Abbey is entailed because Lord and Lady Grantham only have daughters (three of them: Mary, Edith, and Sybil), and, since the heir presumptive supposedly died in the Titanic disaster, the estate will go to a cousin, Matthew, a solicitor from Manchester in the event that neither Mary, Edith, nor Sybil have a son.

On the outside, the Granthams seem kind: for instance, Lord Grantham has his old Boer War batman, Bates, come to Downton Abbey to be his personal valet; he’s about to let Bates go, as Bates has a leg injury from the Boer War–even though the injury doesn’t fully interfere with his duties–but, at the end of the first episode of the first season, he changes his mind and keeps Bates on. In the third episode of the first season, Lady Sybil finds out Gwen is learning how to be a secretary via a correspondence course, and encourages her to the point where she shows Gwen a posting for a business looking for a secretary, and tells her to apply.

Then there’s Violet, the Dowager Countess of Grantham, portrayed oh-so-convincingly by Dame Maggie Smith, who’s the voice of those folks at the top who are afraid of change–though she’s in the process of appealing to Cora to make sure the eldest Crawley daughter, Mary, gets the Levinson fortune, if not inherit Downton Abbey. Overall, though, it seems to me the Dowager Countess, who was born into the British aristocracy, yearns for what she considers the ‘good old days.’ For instance, upon learning that Gwen wants to leave service–and Downton Abbey–and become a secretary, the Dowager Countess states that, if she was in Gwen’s position, she would rather have stayed at Downton Abbey as a maid than ‘work from dawn ’til dusk in a cramped and gloomy office’–in short, she believes she knows what’s best for Downton Abbey’s servants better than they do, and that places like Downton Abbey are the best places in the world to live and–for those not born into nobility and/or generational wealth–work.

Now, on to Matthew Crawley, the new heir presumptive of Downton Abbey.

Matthew is a lawyer from Manchester; his father, who was a doctor, is now dead, and his mother, Isobel, was a nurse. At first, Matthew is reluctant to accept what comes with the position of heir presumptive of Downton Abbey, going so far as to insist on doing things himself, such as dressing, eating, and drinking, instead of letting his appointed butler, Moseley, do those things for him–it took a conversation with Robert for him to start letting Moseley do what he was assigned to do. Apparently, Matthew is cut from a different cloth from the aristocratic Crawleys–likely because, unlike the aristocratic branch of the family, he actually had to work.

As far as Matthew’s mother, Isobel, goes, as someone who trained as a nurse, almost immediately upon moving with Matthew to Downton, she started volunteering in the Downton Cottage Hospital, and even offered advice to the doctor there about how to treat a patient with a particularly difficult ailment, advice which she felt qualified to give because of her nursing experience. The doctor was reluctant to take the advice at first–and even Violet intervened to stop the treatment advised by Isobel–but eventually, the patient does get Isobel’s advised treatment, which works. Isobel’s attitudes are in stark contrast to those of the members of the aristocratic branch of the Crawley family, and her actions have started bringing her into conflict with Violet, Cora, and possibly Robert as well.

But at least Isobel and Matthew aren’t portrayed as bad people, even given the political bias of the show’s creator, Julian Fellowes (more on that later in this post).

Three episodes in, and I get the impression that the Crawleys want to seem kind to everyone in their lives, starting with and including their servants, but it’s apparent they’re reluctant to except change, and want to do everything they can to hold on to their familial/collective position and the power that comes with it. The Crawleys greatly benefit from kyriarchy, and, though they do things to help their servants improve their lives, they don’t want to do anything that would cost them their positions–individual or collective–in early 20th-century society. In other words, the Crawleys are more or less like any other aristocrats and rich families of the era they lived in.

I’ve only watched three episodes, but, so far, I’m getting a nice window into the lives of early-twentieth century wealthy, aristocratic families in England and their members, and everyone in the orbit of those families–as well as societal attitudes at the time and in that geographical area. I’m fairly certain I’ll have more commentary on Downton Abbey as I watch. And I’m well aware that the series was written by Julian Fellowes–more properly known as His Lordship Julian Alexander Kitchener-Fellowes, Baron Fellowes of West Stafford–and that he a) was born into landed gentry and b) is a Conservative peer, so his political views would colour the tone of whatever he writes and helps to create, and that includes Downton Abbey, ergo I have a sense of what to expect as I watch this series. But, as I mentioned, I started watching Downton Abbey out of curiosity, and I’m riding that train to its final destination–no doubt offering commentary here and likely elsewhere as I go.

Mary Ann Shadd Cary: Another Buried Story Unearthed

October 9, 2020 is the first time I’ve heard the name ‘Mary Ann Shadd Cary’–and I only came across it because of a Google doodle in honour of her 197th birthday.

Such is the quality of the education I received during my years of compulsory education here in Canada.

Mary Ann Shadd Cary was an anti-slavery activist; the first black female publisher in North America; the first female publisher in Canada; the first black woman to vote in a U.S. election; and the second black woman in the U.S. to earn a law degree (at 60 years of age) in the United States; her former Washington, D.C. residence was declared a National Historical Landmark in 1976; the National Women’s History Project (now the National Women’s History Alliance) designated her a Women’s History Month honouree in 1987; and she was inducted into the National Women’s Hall of Fame in 1998. In Canada, she was designated a Person of Historical Significance, with a plaque in Chatham, Ontario dedicated to her; she features in Canada’s citizenship test guide, which was released in 2009 (page 16); Library and Archives Canada has a Mary Ann Shadd Cary collection, archival reference number R4182 (formerly MG24-K22); Heritage Toronto has marked the place where she published her newspaper, The Provincial Freeman, with a plaque.

Mary Ann Shadd Cary is an important figure in American and Canadian history, but I never learned about her in school, even in the American history class I took in high school. Shadd Cary is yet another example of how the accomplishments and achievements of people who are not white cis heterosexual men (preferably of means) are erased from history’s pages–or at least have been until recently. Now that she features in Canada’s citizenship test guide, I hope schools here in Canada are teaching students about her–or at least allowing students ways of learning about her.

It’s true that history is so often written from the point of view of the victors and those in power, but it’s high time we acknowledge the past in its entirety and the achievements of everyone who lived and did important things, not just a few who fit a certain mold.

Cultural Appropriation

It’s finally time for me to address an issue I’ve been hearing a lot about lately, and which has occupied my thoughts for quite some time now (and may make me seem like a bandwagoner here): the issue of cultural appropriation. I’ll sum up my thoughts here: While context is important in regards to cultural exchange of any kind, and I acknowledge white people especially have to take history and social reality into account when we adopt aspects of non-white cultures (since we’re the ones with the most privilege), there is such a thing as taking things too far.

Take, for instance, the idea that white people shouldn’t wear clothing, jewellery, or body decor (such as mendhi) from cultures not our own, especially of our own accord, as doing so can be considered cultural appropriation. Clothing, objects, and symbols of any kind have no meaning in and of themselves; people give these things meanings. And cultures–past and present–are made up of people. Granted (as an example), a non-Native wearing a war bonnet is the equivalent of someone who never served in the Canadian Forces wearing a Victoria Cross–that I can agree with, especially considering the war bonnet, as an object and as a symbol, hasn’t been adopted into the non-Native mainstream to date. But is it really cultural appropriation if anyone, regardless of ethnicity, adopts something, or a few things, from one or more different cultures which have been not only adopted, but absorbed, into the Western mainstream?

Now, let’s look at the hypocrisy of those on the lunatic fringe (let’s be fair here) of those who complain about what they consider ‘cultural appropriation’–more specifically, disciples of the New Age movement who subscribe to the belief that what they consider cultural appropriation is wrong. For instance, Jeffrey Armstrong, Heather Lounsbury, and Jordan Pearce (of ‘Spirit Science’ fame) peddle products, services, and rhetoric modeled on some version of ancient Eastern philosophy, such as Ayurveda (in the case of Armstrong) and traditional Chinese medicine (Lounsbury). The thing is, these folks are white. Will those New Agers who whinge about cultural appropriation go after them for actually misappropriating other cultures–and for their own personal gain–or will they resort to special pleading? Especially when one considers that New Age products, services, and rhetoric are geared towards middle-class people, the vast majority of whom are white…

Because of globalization (a topic I’ll cover another time), the world has become more interconnected, and thus there is more cultural exchange and cross-pollination than ever before, so, except for a few situations, it’s ridiculous to talk about cultural appropriation, especially when originating cultures can access aspects of their own cultures, especially once those aspects have been adopted and absorbed into the mainstream. As John McWhorter once wrote, “With gay white men and black women, for example, it’s not as if the black women are being left without their culture after the “theft,” … The idea that when we imitate something we are seeking to replace it rather than join it is weak. … Every language in the world is shot through with words and grammatical patterns from other languages—that is, signs of people in the past doing what we would call ‘appropriating.'”

All of that said, I agree it’s not unreasonable to ask that we show respect for other cultures, and to ensure all cultural exchanges and borrowings are done on a level playing field. That is, everyone, regardless of ethnicity, gets credit for what they create; we not misrepresent, nor perpetuate stereotypes of, other cultures (Katy Perry, here’s looking at you); there’s enough for everyone (think yoga and what we in the West think of as ethnic food); and there are no double standards (think Kylie Jenner’s cornrows and Miley Cyrus’s dreadlocks).

In conclusion, like with everything else, it’s important to keep the subject of cultural appropriation in perspective.