Remaining days of service

I don't believe a man can consider himself fully content until he has done all he can to be of service to his employer. - The butler James Stevens in The Remains of the Day

I saw the movie The Remains of the Day in 1993 or so, when I was younger. Some of the themes, I admit, may have gone over my head at the time, but in reflection, I see a lot now that I have a "mid-life" perspective. The character James Stevens was a manservant for a Lord Darlington, a prominent English nobleman. Stevens's work in this role was exemplary, and he rose to the rank of "head of the household," managing the other workers as they attended every detail in the physical upkeep of a large, sprawling English manor. The story is set in the 1930s, as the social and economic consequences of the first World War were stripping English nobility of their influence in a dizzying spiral. Like many members of the landed gentry at the time, Darlington was operating in total denial of the facts, maintaining the operation of his home and interests as if the British Empire were still in its full 19th century glory. This all seemed to suit James Stevens just fine as he dutifully and cheerfully executed his responsibilities to his boss, lording over every minute detail of the home's operations with military precision.

As one might gather from the context of the story, reality came crashing into their lives with heavy-handed lessons. Darlington, of course, failed to maintain his prominence, particularly as he threw his weight behind a conciliatory approach to the Third Reich, just one grave error among many that ultimately cost him his fortune. In one scene late in the movie, Stevens and a colleague travel beyond the home to a modern day urban environment, with electric lights blazing around them, in a stark visual contrast to the panached, antique feel of practically every preceding scene. In essence, the style of the movie perfectly conforms to the tone of its story - the characters' attitudes and ideals are mired in a past era - and when the movie finally veers outside that age and into the present, it is a startling lurch forward in time that seems unreal.

The events of the movie form the backdrop for the similarly jolting spiritual reckoning that James Stevens endures. At the end of his working life, Stevens is still holding on to his deferential, tenacious mannerisms that he learned from his father, also a manservant. Though he finds his soul aching as his old age glares at him from just ahead, he is still not quite ready to confront how his servile attitude, once so satisfying, may have actually betrayed him. Late in the movie, he attempts a daring denial by deliberately omitting mention of his job as he informs strangers of his involvement in Darlington's politics. Unfortunately for him, though, his decades-old mannerisms are still so built in to his every word and gesture that he is easily given away.

From the earliest days of our childhood, we are directed to please others. We do not necessarily understand why - just that if we make our parents happy, it is right. As such, this attitude can follow us well into maturity and beyond. We seem wired to please others in a more powerful position than us in an effort to gain approval, sustenance, and protection. When our parents yield their positions to teachers and then bosses, we serve them just as dutifully. We need to challenge this habit just as forcefully as we keep it. Unless we do, our very programming will be that of a servant, and the longer we go in this mode, the harder it will be to stop.