Several days after Ishiguro was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature (10/05/2017) I reread the novel and took these notes preparatory to attending a book group discussion at my local library. The novel was universally praised by the attendees. One question that many members had was "What did Miss Kenton see in Stevens?"

Notes on The Remains of the Day, October 9, 2017

A year ago a book group at my local library in Arizona selected The Remains of the Day as its October novel. Kazuo Ishiguru was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature on October 5^th. How fortuitous! I’ve just re-read the novel to be able to attend the discussion tomorrow. Here are my reading notes, starting with some general comments. Page numbers are to the Everyman’s Library edition:

Ishiguro brilliantly maintains the voice and point of view of Stevens, the butler, through out. Stevens speaks in perfect, grammatical, if rather stilted English, an attribute he’s obviously worked hard at attaining despite his saying on at least two occasions that he believes that over the years too much importance came to be attached to a butler’s eloquence and knowledge of the world. His father possessed neither of these qualifications, and he still epitomized the dignity on which true greatness in a butler is founded.

The reader is actively engaged in reading the novel; he’s a little bit like a detective piecing the story together from what Stevens says. Stevens is never direct. He mentions important information incidentally while seeming to be talking about other matters. (See the example of the silver below.) Of course, what strikes the reader most is how self-abnegating and self-deluding Stevens is. Even at the very end of his journey (literal and figurative) he barely acknowledges how much of life he has given up in subordinating his own happiness to loyalty to Lord Darlington and to his ideal of greatness in service. Miss Kenton, even though her grammar is not so perfect*, sees clearly that Stevens is always “pretending,” always acting a role, but she can’t shake him out of it despite trying (and she can’t induce him to pop the question). She is also more clear-sighted than Stevens about Lord Darlington, protests a terrible injustice in the dismissal of two Jewish house maids, and almost resigns in protest. *(Miss Kenton says “I” where “me” is the correct pronoun, an unfortunate error by individuals who aspire to grammatical correctness. A brilliant detail by Ishighuro!)

The first hint that our narrator is a quintessentially unreliable narrator comes early on when he justifies his little vacation to himself on the grounds that a trip to the West Country, possibly to recruit Miss Kenton to resume her post as housekeeper, might address the problem of a “faulty staff plan.” He attributes “a series of small errors in the carrying out of my duties” to a shortage of staff; we suspect that Stevens is ageing and probably should be thinking of retiring or at the least of reducing his duties. In this, he is following in his father’s footsteps, as we shall see (p. 57). Mr. Farraday, his new American employer, is actually eager for Stevens to take some time off, lends him his vintage Ford, and offers to pay for the gas. I suspect that Farraday realizes that Stevens is past his prime and needs this vacation. (pp. 6-7) Stevens also misinterprets Miss Kenton’s letter; as becomes clear later on, his impression that she wants to return to Darlington Hall is probably wishful thinking or projection.

Although he has sufficient attire for dining on his motor trip—hand-me-downs from various personages who frequented Darlington Hall in the past—Stevens will need to purchase “suitable travelling clothes” as a representative of D.H. Always the butler of his august house! Stevens’ spiffy motoring attire leads to a misunderstanding on the part of some Devonshire locals towards the end of the trip, one of only two humorous scenes in the novel. (p. 11)

First mention of WWII—German bombing of the English countryside—as Stevens peruses guidebooks for his trip. Also mentioned is the marriage of Miss Kenton/Mrs. Benn and her departure with her new husband to Cornwall in 1936. It’s now July 1956, so Stevens hasn’t seen Miss Kenton for 20 years. This indirect mentioning of important details—the sort of information an Anthony Trollope would lay out in a first chapter or two—is typical of how the narrative unfolds. (p. 12)

Admires the English countryside because of the lack of the “unseemly demonstrativeness” that one finds in Africa and America. (p. 28) Similarly, he observes that the English make the best butlers because of their restraint. “Continentals are unable to be butlers because they are a breed incapable of emotional restraint which only the English race is capable of.” (p. 40)

Memories of his father, who epitomizes for him the quality of restraint. On one occasion he stops the car and with his mere 6-foot presence rebukes his employer’s drunken, bad mouthing guests. Nice, but then there is the chilling incident when the house is visited by a General from the Boer War whose un-British manoeuvre cost many lives, including that of Stevens’ older brother. The father shows “restraint” in turning down his employer’s offer to take several days’ leave, puts his feelings aside, and serves the man as valet. (pp. 37-39)

Miss Kenton’s arrival at D.H. and her first attempt to bring Stevens a vase with flowers to brighten his dreary room. (p. 49)

The decline of Stevens’ father. (p. 56 ff.)

The 1923 conference. (p. 65 ff.) (Note that at this point Lord Darlington was not alone in believing the terms of the Versailles Treaty were too onerous, a “vendetta.” In 1919 J.M. Keynes—a visitor to D.H.—wrote “The Economic Consequences of the Peace,” arguing that the reparations were bad for all of Europe, not just Germany, where there was hyperinflation and high unemployment. Indeed. 1923 was the year of the Munich Putsch, Hitler’s failed coup.)

Lord Darlington asks Stevens—of all people—to explain the “facts of life” to his godson, Mr. Cardinal! (p. 75) Mr. Cardinal will make a second very important appearance at D.H. in the 1930s when a smaller and more nefarious meeting is taking place between Herr Ribbentrop and Lord Halifax.

Stevens’ father has a stroke during the conference and dies—without his son at his bedside. Stevens is more preoccupied with his duties as a butler than as a son. He asks the doctor to attend to the obnoxious M. Dupont before he leaves. (p. 97)

Stevens denies he worked for Lord Darlington when asked by the inquisitive Mrs. Wakefield, guest of Mr. Farraday. (p. 108) Our first clue that Darlington gained notoriety for his behavior before and during the war. Stevens will deny his association with Darlington a second time. (St. Peter denies Christ three times, the final time being known as the Repentance of Peter. Is there an ironic allusion here? Is it significant that Stevens denies Lord Darlington two but not three times—in other words, without arriving at the stage of repentance?)

Stevens’ arrival Taunton near Mursden, home of Giffen’s silver polish, prompts another important memory. The D.H. silver, polished with Giffen’s, was praised by the likes of Lady Astor and Lord Halifax (both members of the Germanophile Cliveden Set; Edward Wood, Lord Halifax, was regarded as one of the architects of appeasement. G.B. Shaw also admired the silver; was he an appeaser, too?). At the first of a series of very “off the record” meetings between Ribbentrop, then Ambassador to the Court of St. James, and Halifax, then Foreign Minister, Halifax is wary when he arrives and says he doesn’t know what Darlington has put him up to, strongly implying that the meeting was Darlington’s brainchild. His mood is improved by viewing the delightful silver, a development that Lord Darlington reports to Stevens the next day. Stevens is proud that he has contributed to the success of the meeting! (p. 120) Stevens goes on to acknowledge that it is now known that Ribbentrop was a deceiver, an enabler of Hitler, but he defends Darlington by saying that Ribbentrop was welcome in many of the great houses at the time (likely true); that was the climate in England in the 1930s.

Stevens then defends Darlington against the charge that he was an anti-Semite and closely associated with the British Union of Fascists—but goes on to note that Sir Oswald Mosley was a visitor to D.H.—"on three occasions at the most” before the BUF “betrayed its true nature” (p. 122)—and that while under the influence of a Mrs. Carolyn Barnet, a member of the BUF, Darlington dismissed two Jewish members of the staff. (Barnet, a Diana Mitford figure?) Miss Kenton is horrified that Stevens would go along with the dismissal and threatens to resign. She never does and hates herself for not having had the courage to leave, citing her lack of friends and relatives outside the house.

Stevens has regrets about terminating his nightly meetings with Miss Kenton over cocoa. His emotions are so repressed that he omits expressing his condolences when her aunt, her only living relative, dies; when he does talk to her again he makes no mention of her loss and instead criticizes her new girls for some very minor lapses. (pp. 154-155)

Runs out of petrol; previously allowed the Ford to run out of water; signs of his limited experience of the outside world. Is taken in for the night in Moscombe, near Tavistock, Devon, by Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. Because of his clothing, the vintage Ford, and his refined speech, the locals take him for a lord. Did he know Churchill, Mr. Eden, Lord Halifax? Mr. Harry Smith gives his definition of dignity—“every Englishman can grasp it if only he cares to”—which is as disconcerting to Stevens as is the misunderstanding about his identity. The next morning, we learn later, Dr. Carlisle reveals he knew there was an innocent misunderstanding, much to the relief of Stevens.

Stevens’ encounter with Harry Smith prompts another memory. Around 1935 one of Lord Darlington’s guests calls Stevens into the drawing room late at night and asks him a series of economic and foreign policy questions (p. 171) to which the butler responds that he is sorry but he can’t be of assistance. There is laughter all around and the guest, having abused Stevens in this way, makes his point that the present parliamentary system, which leaves matters to the representatives of the people, is terribly outmoded. Stevens should feel humiliated—even Lord Darlington apologizes to him the following day—but he does not.

Mr. Cardinal reappears on the evening of an important “off the record” meeting between Ribbentrop and the British Prime Minister (Lloyd George? Stanley Baldwin? Chamberlain?) Despite staying he’s just dropped by, Cardinal, now a journalist, knows precisely what’s going on and attempts to engage Stevens in a conversation about the manipulation of Darlington by the Germans. The butler will have none of it. Cardinal refers back to the 1923 conference when the American attendee called Darlington and his set bungling amateurs. “Well, I have to say, Stevens, that American chap was quite right.” (p. 195) This is the same night that Miss Kenton accepts the marriage proposal from her acquaintance. When she returns and tells Stevens the news, he shows a similar lack of curiosity and barely congratulates her, prompting Miss Kenton to say, “Am I to take it . . . that after the many years of service I have given in this house, you have no more words to greet the news of my possible departure than those you have just uttered?” (p. 191) She goes on to say, cruelly, that she and her intended enjoy making fun of Stevens and his stilted ways, but then apologizes the next morning. That night as he is passing her door, Stevens thinks her hears her crying—but fails to knock. In an echo of the night in 1923 when his father died, Stevens is too preoccupied with the great events transpiring above stairs to attend to personal matters. (Darlington’s journey from Germanophile to dupe and appeaser appears to be complete.)

The actual meeting between Stevens and Mrs. Benn in Cornwall is recounted very briefly after the fact. We learn that she has returned to her husband and apparently has left and returned several other times. She says she didn’t love her husband at first but came to love him (Do we believe her?). She confides that there have been occasions when she thinks she has made a terrible mistake with her life. “For instance, I get to thinking about a life I might have had with you, Mr. Stevens.” (pp. 207-208) Stevens recounts that he didn’t respond immediately but admits that “at that moment, my heart was breaking.” The one moment in which Stevens recognizes his true feelings? Sadly, he follows up with some truisms about the importance of being grateful for the life one does have. By the by, we also learn in this episode that Mr. Cardinal was killed in Belgium during the war and that Lord Darlington launched an unsuccessful libel suit against a newspaper (The Times?) after the war. (p. 204)

The only other moment in the narrative when Stevens at least comes close to recognizing what his “pretending” has cost him is on the pier at Weymouth when the lights come on and he observes strangers conversing together merrily. “It is curious how people can build such warmth among themselves so swiftly.” (p. 212) He has just had a conversation with a man who turns out to have been the butler at a lesser country house. The man advises him to stop looking back and “to make the best of what remains of my day.” Will he? His response to the merrymakers on the pier—that when he returns to D.H. he will practice “bantering” to please his new American employer—is not promising.

Afterthoughts, Questions

The narrative appears to ramble—something that Stevens sees or that happens on his journey triggers a memory. In fact, the narrative is tightly organized. I detected three strands: 1) The physical journey from east to west, Oxfordshire to Cornwall (and back to Weymouth), a very traditional pattern, following the rising and setting of the Sun. 2) In the glimpses we catch of Lord Darlington, his transformation from a possibly well-meaning, amateurish Germanophile, concerned about the punitive terms of the Versailles Treaty, to an enabler of the policy of appeasement and fellow traveler of the anti-Semitic British Union of Fascists. 3) The revelation of Stevens’ character. As his journey continues, Stevens further reveals his repressed psyche (for example, in recounting his muted reactions to the deaths of his father and Miss Kenton’s aunt and to Miss Kenton’s plans to marry and leave D.H.), and his rationalizations for Lord Darlington’s behavior—and his continued loyalty to his employer—become increasingly tenuous. Towards the end of “Day Six-Evening,” the final “chapter,” he shows a glimmer of awareness of what he has missed in life. Just a glimmer.

What is the genre? Historical novel? Fictional memoir?

What does Miss Kenton see in Stevens?

Is he a sympathetic character?

Miss Kenton and Mr. Cardinal serve as normative characters against whom we measure Stevens’ behavior. Some of the most significant moments in the narrative are confrontations between Stevens and either Miss Kenton or Mr. Cardinal.

Ishiguro studied creative writing at the University of East Anglia, as did Ian McEwan. First-person narratives, with unreliable narrators, appear to be the specialty of graduates of that program. (I was happy to read that McEwan credited L.P. Hartley’s The Go-Between [1953] as a major influence on Atonement. The influence is hard to miss—two stories about lower-class individuals destroyed by living among the aristocracy told by first-person narrators.)