The Remains of the Day poignantly portrays a hierarchical social system based on wealth and heredity, which distorted the very personalities of many who served the upper class. Both masters and servants were intrinsic to the system. If those who served had less power than their masters, they might nevertheless have been responsible, in part, for preserving an unjust system. Lightened by wry comedy, the novel has a serious, even tragic, core that may be as relevant today as when the novel first appeared.
It opens in July of 1956, with Mr. Stevens serving as butler for the wealthy American man who now owns the aristocratic English manor house where Stevens served Lord Darlington from the pre-war years until Darlington’s death three years before. His new employer, about to make a trip to America, encourages Stevens to borrow his car while he is away and take a week’s vacation. After some hesitation Stevens justifies the trip as an opportunity to visit Darlington Hall’s former housekeeper to learn whether she might be persuaded to return to her former position. The trip becomes a time for reminiscence and reflection.
Lord Darlington, it becomes clear, was a pompous fool who hosted secret meetings between the Nazi regime’s ambassador and members of the English aristocracy who wanted to preserve friendly relations between England and Germany. Stevens had an inkling about what was going on—he remarks that although, of course, he did not listen at doors, he did happen to overhear snippets of conversation in the course of his duties. At the time, he felt proud to serve a gentleman so deeply involved in the important matters of the day.
Stevens’ sense of himself, though, shifts over the course of the novel. The story explores the stiffly formal relationship between Stevens and the housekeeper, Miss Kenton, that existed in Lord Darlington’s day. Hints emerge that she may have felt a romantic attraction to Stevens. His efforts to preserve his dignity, which he believed flowed from absolute loyalty to his employer, result in pained awkwardness. His feelings are portrayed almost tangibly, so readers can sympathize with his earnest efforts to do the right thing despite their exasperation when he does exactly the wrong thing. Ishiguro is an exceptionally skilled novelist, and The Remains of the Day is an exceptional novel. (1988, 245 pages)