Remains of the day

by Kazuo Ishiguro

Chapter fourteen - Dignity

I feel very uncomfortable about what has just happened, but I don't know how I could have prevented the misunderstanding regarding my identity. By the time I was aware of what was happening, things had already gone too far. I could not have told these people the truth without much embarrassment. On the other hand, I do not see that any real harm has been done. I will, after all, be leaving these people in the morning and will probably never meet them again. I ought to stop worrying myself about the matter.

However, apart from the unfortunate misunderstanding, there is something else about this evening that deserves some thought: Mr Harry Smith's comments regarding the nature of 'dignity'.

There is, I suppose, some truth in the idea that poor people are as capable of dignity as rich people. Perhaps everybody in the land has a duty to think about the important matters of the day. But in reality, how can ordinary people be expected to have 'strong opinions' on everything - as Mr Harry Smith believes that the villagers here do? In my opinion, these expectations are not only impossible but also undesirable. There is, after all, a real limit to how much ordinary people can learn and know. It cannot be wise, surely, to expect every single person to be able to contribute 'strong opinions' to the great debates of the nation.

I remember an instance which illustrates the limitations of Mr Harry Smith's arguments rather well. It occurred before the war, around 1935.

Very late one night, I was called to the drawing room, where his lordship had been entertaining three gentlemen since dinner. I had, of course, been called to the drawing room many times that evening. On each occasion, the three gentlemen had been deep in serious conversation. When I entered the drawing room on this last occasion, however, all the gentlemen stopped talking and looked at me. Then his lordship said:
'Step this way a moment, will you, Stevens? Mr Spencer here wishes to have a word with you.'

Mr Spencer looked at me for a moment from his armchair, then said:
'My good man, I have a question for you. We need your help on a certain topic that we've been debating. Tell me, do you think our debts to America are responsible for the present low levels of trade?'

I was naturally a little surprised by this, but then quickly understood the situation. The gentleman clearly expected me to be puzzled by his question. It took me a moment or two to realize what was happening, but in that time I must have given the wrong impression. The gentlemen in the room probably thought that I was trying to think of an answer to the question, for I saw them all exchange amused smiles.

'I'm very sorry, sir,' I said, 'but I am unable to be of assistance on this matter.'

I was by now in control of the situation, but the gentlemen went on smiling. Then Mr Spencer said:
'Then perhaps you will help us with another matter. Do you think that the economic problems in Europe would improve if there was a military agreement between France and Russia?'

'I'm very sorry, sir, but I am unable to be of assistance on this matter either.'

'Oh dear,' said Mr Spencer. 'So you can't help us.'

There was more quiet laughter, then his lordship said:
'Thank you, Stevens. That is all.'

But Mr Spencer had not finished. 'Please, Darlington,' he said. 'I have one more question to ask your good man here. I very much wanted his advice concerning a problem that has been bothering us all recently. My good fellow, please help us. What was Monsieur Laval really intending when he made his recent speech about North Africa?'
'I'm sorry, sir, but I am unable to assist in this matter.'

'You see, gentleman,' Mr Spencer turned to the others and said, 'our man is unable to assist us in these matters.'

The laughter became louder, and he went on:
'But we still continue with the ridiculous belief that our good man here, and a few million others like him, should decide how to run the country. With a parliamentary system like ours, I'm not surprised that we never seem able to find solutions to any of our problems. It would be just as good to ask the mothers' union to organize a war.'

There was open laughter at this comment, during which his lordship said quietly:
'Thank you, Stevens. That is all.'

The following morning his lordship came into the games room, where I was dusting the paintings, and said:
'I'm sorry, Stevens. "We were awful to you last night.'

'Not at all, sir,' I said from the top of my stepladder. 'I was only happy to be of service.'

'It was terrible. I think we'd all had too much to drink. Please accept my apologies.'

'Thank you, sir. But I am happy to assure you I was not offended at all.'

His lordship walked over to a leather armchair and sat down with a tired look on his face. For a while he stared out of the windows at the winter sunshine over the hills. I looked down from my stepladder and was suddenly aware of how much his lordship had changed in recent years. The pressures of life had had a great effect on him. He had become extremely thin, his hair had gone completely white and there were deep lines on his face.

Suddenly, his lordship spoke. 'You must understand, Stevens, we're making terrible mistakes in this country. If it's any comfort to you, last night you did contribute to our discussion. There's too much nonsense nowadays about ordinary people telling the government what to do.'

'Indeed, sir.'

'We're really too slow in this country to recognize when something's out of date. Other great nations have recognized the fact that change is needed. But our country...' Lord Darlington stared in silence at the view from the window for a moment, and sadly shook his head. 'Our country is always the last to change. One day soon, we'll need to accept the fact that democracy is old-fashioned and doesn't work in today's complicated world.'

'The nation does seem to be in a regrettable condition, sir,' I said.

'Absolutely, Stevens. Look at Germany and Italy. See what strong leadership can achieve if they're free to act. No democratic nonsense there. If your house is on fire, you don't call the staff into the drawing room and discuss the best method of escape for an hour, do you?'

As I remember these words, it occurs to me that many of Lord Darlington's ideas probably seem rather odd today - perhaps even unattractive. But there is surely some truth in what he said to me that morning in the games room. Of course, it is ridiculous to expect a butler to answer the sort of questions that Mr Spencer asked me that night. It is clearly nonsense, therefore, for Mr Harry Smith to say that people can only have dignity if their voices are heard in high places. The fact is, the great affairs of the nation will always be too complicated for people like you and me to understand. Only great gentlemen like Lord Darlington can decide what is right and what is not right for our country. It is the duty of the rest of us to serve these gentlemen to the best of our ability.

Throughout the years I served him, Lord Darlington always made all the important decisions. I was not expected to offer him advice or judgement. It was my duty to be loyal to him, and not to worry about whether he was right or wrong. I was devoted to him and I performed my duties as well as I was able. Indeed, many may consider my performance of my duties to have been 'first class'. It is hardly my fault if many people now believe that his lordship's life and work were a sad waste. The passage of time may now show that some of Lord Darlington's efforts were foolish, but I have no regrets about my part in things. It is illogical for me to feel any shame.