'Could it be that our Mr Stevens is flesh and blood after all and cannot fully trust himself?' | Remains of the Day, Chapters 3-5
Today, we continue our reading of The Remains of the Day. Here’s the schedule:
June 30: Prologue, Chapters 1 & 2
July 7: Chapters 3-5
July 14: Chapters 6-7
July 20: Members-Only Zoom Call, 8 PM Eastern
You can join that Zoom call and gain access to all paid posts by becoming a paid subscriber.
‘Why, Mr Stevens, why, why, why do you always have to pretend?’
In one line, we see the problem with Stevens, the problem that runs through The Remains of the Day. Stevens is a man who is seemingly incapable of reflecting upon his own actions in a critical manner, save for when he evaluates them along the lines of being an excellent butler. Honor, dignity, loyalty — all of that is transposed into a new key, one whose root note is fading aristocracy.
In more American terms: Stevens is a man who believes his own bullshit.
Joseph Butler, an eighteenth-century Anglican bishop and moral philosopher, gave a series of sermons at Rolls Chapel. These sermons are often treated as important works in British moral theory: while putatively about various parts of Christian scripture, Butler is concerned with topics like moral desert, making him of broader interest. He may be most famous for Sermon X, a sermon on 2 Samuel and (more importantly for us) on self-deceit. Butler writes:
There is plainly, in the generality of mankind, an absence of doubt or distrust, in a very great measure, as to their moral character and behaviour; and likewise a disposition to take for granted, that all is right and well with them in these respects. The former is owing to their not reflecting, not exercising their judgment upon themselves; the latter, to self-love.
This is not quite a description of Stevens, though, because Stevens extends his lack of judgment and his self-love to his employer as well. Stevens is seemingly incapable of an honest assessment of what Lord Darlington has done.
Namely, he does not want to confront Darlington’s association with British fascism and the Nazi cause. He was a close associate of the German ambassador, though Stevens assures us that everyone was a close associate of Herr Ribbentrop, and he entertained leaders of the British Union of Fascists. All of this, however, can feel disconnected from real life: entertaining an ambassador, while impactful on world politics, feels distant from the machinations of government, however monstrous. We see that Darlington’s associations had personal consequences when he instructs Stevens to fire Jewish members of staff.
Stevens rationalizes it well enough, I suppose, while talking to Miss Kenton:
There are many things you and I are simply not in a position to understand concerning, say, the nature of Jewry. Whereas his lordship, I might venture, is somewhat better placed to judge what is for the best.
So, when Darlington later comes to regret what he has done, Stevens then is able to reinterpret history. He now says he was always upset by the matter. This prompts Miss Kenton to ask Stevens why he must always pretend.
The pretending continues to the present. Stevens tries to obscure his affiliation with Darlington with both a chauffeur he encounters on his drive and with some of Mr Faraday’s guests. He does not want to admit that he worked with Darlington despite the fact that serving Darlington is, apparently, the source of meaning in his life.
For Stevens, the world is not a ladder but a wheel. Men of importance are the hub of this wheel; they make the world go round. A great butler, Stevens says, is one who serves a great man at a great house — and this is not defined by ancestry or history, but by the effect the man has on the world. Darlington is great according to this analysis because he was close to the center of world affairs.
A ‘great’ butler can only be, surely, one who can point to his years of service and say that he has applied his talents to serving a great gentleman — and through the latter, to serving humanity.
But this is the great tension of Stevens’ life. Darlington is great, but so was Genghis Khan and (more saliently) Adolf Hitler. ‘Great’ here refers to magnitude of impact rather than moral worth. Darlington made an impact on the world, but was it good? Did it, in fact, serve humanity?
If Stevens were to examine this more closely, perhaps he would conclude negatively. If that were to happen, he would then have to question his own greatness as a butler. And then another question would naturally arise: was the sacrifice worth it? The polishing of silver, the alienation from his father, the inability to form authentic relationships, any of this…was it worth it?
Stevens fears the answer, so he doesn’t ask the question. He’s very good at ignoring difficult questions:
But what is the sense in forever speculating what might have happened had such and such a moment turned out differently? One could presumably drive oneself to distraction in this way.
As Stevens reflects at the end of this week’s reading: ‘If a butler is to be of any worth to anything or anybody in life, there must surely come a time when he ceases his searching.’ Don’t ask too many questions — simply serve the great men who help the world turn. This is, in a way, a defensive maneuver: ‘How can one possibly be held to blame in any sense because, say, the passage of time has shown that Lord Darlington’s efforts were misguided, even foolish?’
Scattered observations:
Miss Kenton admits that she did not resign due to moral weakness. That honesty is refreshing compared to Stevens, the consummate rationalizer.
There is something like a romance between Kenton and Stevens. Stevens won’t admit it, but they are flirtatious. Miss Kenton seems to be leading him to say something when they discuss whether he is content with his life.
A good butler must never be ‘off duty’ in the presence of others, Stevens says. Even during their cocoa evenings, then, he must always be performing a role. It is strictly professional.
We don’t get a mention of Hitler or the Nazis until page 136. (If they are mentioned earlier by name, please correct me.)
Stevens thinks Harry Smith’s pronouncements about universal dignity are beneath serious consideration. This is tied to a humiliating memory of his own. He needs to remember his place. Darlington would agree: ‘Democracy is something for a bygone era.’
I think it's absolutely HILARIOUS that Stevens reads romance novels, strictly for the professional purpose of improving his dialogue (cf. "universities" today as credential mills, not as places where you can simply enjoy reading and exploring) - so much so that HE CAN'T EVEN TELL when Miss Kenton is flirting with him. It's brilliantly set up on pp. 167-68 and then on 169 is when he shuts her out of his pantry and realizes things have gotten too personal.
*Both of Stevens' failed attempts at banter revolve around the morning wake-up crow (p. 16, p. 130). I wonder if this is a metaphor that he himself cannot "wake up" to present realities, or from his stupor/conditioning to be this cold professional.
Re: "Miss Kenton admits that she did not resign due to moral weakness. That honesty is refreshing compared to Stevens, the consummate rationalizer." I read this more as, Miss Kenton had her own morals but of course had to give way to practical considerations to stay employed; while Stevens does not have his own morals, he accepts those of his master (reiterated p. 201)
I also don't think Stevens is rationalizing or reinterpreting history as much as just ebbing and flowing with blind loyalty and devotion (which he says on p. 173, what more he wants out of life when asked by Miss Kenton [obviously trying to goad him into saying something about love or marriage or something human] is to continue to serve; reiterated p. 201). It *is* also fact that Ribbentrop had plenty of friends in high places in England and beyond so really I think it's just Darlington who was a classic aristocratic fool who wanted to be important and went with whomever and whatever was popular at the time. Stevens has no opinion of his own on this matter.
One more observation, just thought it's interesting that Stevens has almost no private life in the way Hannah Arendt would put it. Perhaps some interesting things to think about there..