Stevens and Ishiguro
The relationship between Stevens and his father, set against a background of butlers, dignity, and professionalism, is an interesting example of generation gaps, especially the broadening of these gaps that occurred throughout the 20th century. The son, as head butler of Darlington Hall, is positioned above his father. This reverses not only the structure of the traditional family, but also goes against Britain’s historic emphasis on social, professional, and political hierarchies. Stevens’ ability to surpass his father in his profession, at least superficially, is a sign of a rapidly changing society in which being a generation ahead is more of an advantage than it was in the past. While he has an innate respect for his father and strives to attain the same level of dignity, Stevens is aware that his father “lacked attributes one might normally expect in a great butler” (34). These unessential, albeit noticeable, attributes included a “good accent and command of the language, general knowledge on wide-ranging topics such as falconing or newt-mating” (34). Thus, while basic values remain similar, the “decorative” attributes shift often and appear increasingly important. While trends have always been in flux, modern communication has made them shift more rapidly than ever, so this discrepancy between generations seems like a theme that would be even more relevant to the author, writing the book in the 80’s, than the narrator in the 1920’s.
In addition to the rapid movement of ideas that characterizes modernity, there is also the rapid and mass movement of people. While this is not addressed overtly in the description of Stevens and his father, there is one phrase in particular that made me think about Ishiguro’s immigrant background. Stevens says that his father had “limited command of English” (35). While in context, he must be referring to a limited command of formal or proper language, it is hard to ignore the current associations of this phrase. A “command of English” is often tested and demanded of immigrants, like Ishiguro’s family, who are trying to assimilate into a new culture. (It is also interesting that the top destinations for many immigrants – England, US, Australia, Canada – are all English-speaking countries.) A transition to a different culture often diminishes the authority of older family members, as their knowledge is no longer applicable in the new environment. Ishiguro must have experienced this sentiment with his own father, and indirectly, it comes out in his portrayal of the father-son relationship in “The Remains of the Day.”
It is always risky to speculate about the biographical aspect of novels, but I think that it is difficult to write about family relationships without referencing one’s own experience. When Ishiguro describes Stevens’ relation with his father, he depicts a generation gap that while present in the time of the story, is even more relevant in a modern context.
–Alexandra Dreyzin
The link between the changing social order in _The Remains of the Day_ takes on a whole new meaning when viewed in light of Ishiguro’s status as an immigrant. One could even go so far as to conduct a psychoanalytical reading to this idea, although I find doing so often carries one into the realm of reading too closely. For example, maybe the reason that Stevens jr. has surpassed his father on the professional scale has to do with Ishiguro’s desire to surpass the English in their “Englishness”. Stevens jr. is the newer of the two to the profession, and as such should always have something to learn from his father. The possibility that he can surpass the ultimate master of butlery suggests that perhaps a foreigner can surpass the ultimate master of patriotism (for lack of a better word), namely the native.
I really enjoy Alexandra’s two-tiered discussion of the novel. This post made me think hard about the connections between family structures, professional roles and language. I will try to sort through these thoughts briefly!
As Alexandra notes, Mr. Stevens and his father prize “dignity” above all other virtues. While this is obviously beneficial to their professions, it wreaks havoc on their relationship as a father and son. “Dignity” is a bearing that doesn’t allow for vulnerability. Indeed, it seems to mean that one can withstand enormous pressures and pains without betraying one’s own suffering. The elder Mr. Stevens struggles to remain “dignified” throughout his illness, thus allowing no opening for the younger Mr. Stevens to step in and care for him. Of course, the mask of dignity is reciprocal. The younger Mr. Stevans duly refuses to acknowledge his father’s illness except in terms of its effect on the elder butler’s job performance.
I really like Alexandra’s emphasis on the phrase “limited command of English.” Even if we are only speculating on the term’s shades of meaning, as she writes, it is a useful metaphor to turn on the text. In this case, I think both father and son can be said to have a severely limited command of the language (emotional? social?) that would allow them to function as father and son rather than simply professionals in relation to each other.
I could go on further, since this post has lots of really interesting points, but I suppose this comment is long enough as it is!
I find Molly’s relating of Mr. Stevens Jr.’s own “limited command of English” to his inability to navigate social and familial relationships very compelling as a prism for considering Stevens’ language in dialogue. More than any other phrase, the repeated use of “indeed” stuck out to me in all of Stevens’ discussions with Miss Kenton. Using formal language of agreement, a term of understanding that separates all personal feelings from the conversation and merely acknowledges a statement, Stevens proves himself incapable of adapting his phrasing to situations of surprise or celebration. “He has asked me to marry him. I thought you had a right to know that” (215), Miss Kenton tells Mr. Stevens of her new acquaintance, to which he merely replies “Indeed, Miss Kenton. That is very interesting.”
I’m curious about the usage of the word “indeed.” How does it both hide and reveal emotion? In this specific scene, Miss Kenton grows exceedingly agitated with each invocation of the word “indeed,” taking Mr. Stevens’ succinct replies to mean that he is upset with her. How does his limited knowledge of the language, his insistence on using a “brutally professional” tone in all situations, bring out Miss Kenton’s emotions? Can Mr. Stevens’ stoicism enhance Miss Kenton’s feelings? Does this make theirs a one-sided relationship? These are all entangled ideas, let me know what you all think!