In a brilliantly written work, Kazuo Ishiguro writes about the blandness and the vigor in an English butler's life. Through intricate and superbly inner reflection as if the author himself was the main protagonist, Remains of the Day captures the seemingly quiet and persistent manifestations of one man's commitment to his role as the caretaker of Darlington Hall, an English manor whose ownership was transferred to an American gentleman.
In the book as well as the movie, Mr. Stevens eponymously define what makes up the English butler. Despite his stern passion for his tasks he manages to live through life untouched by the calls of the heart. This Englishman indeed has sustained the proverbialEnglish stiff upper lip- a sort of a Clint Eastwood unperturbability over the blows of life's tragedies and joys.
Not that Stevens is a man of no feelings but what he succesfully portrays in behalf of many who have chosen a life call that seems boring for some and unquestionably repetitive is that he has allowed himself to be lost in the limiting nature of what his task is- a butler. For many who commit themselves to tasks that seem to have taken over their persona, Remains of the Day is a somewhat foreboding reminder of what may turn some of us into such character- stiff, unaffected and compulsive.
It made me think of where I am now, of how I shall spend the rest of my future, of how my path shall be. I am left struck by the depth of Ishiguro's successful vignette of life's seemingly microcosmic offers for those who have chosen to clam themselves up. I guess I am one of them, a gigantic soul who is so folded and defended that no external force will bring me to the limiting bonds of intimate relationships. Fear, insecurity, inadequacy and the like may serve as excellent and yet pathetic excuses for my unwillingness to engage in the fullness tha life offers. I cringe inside the carapace of my own failures, and hide behing the success I wish the world see me-compassion, openness, intelligence and interpersonal virtuosity.
But I am no such thing. Like Stevens I am scared to be seen in the nakedness of my soul and i rationalize with my tasks and filial obligations in order not be be disturbed by the noise and chaos of the world.
I always ask myself at the end of each day What truly is left of the remains of the day.
