The place in society, cemented by the immutable ordering of society, permitted the "living in groups" which has a very human appeal extending back to the cave. The anonymity of urban life in a densely populated society is deadening and it is also not an atmosphere conducive to liberty, perhaps license, but not real liberty.
I take your point.
Costume period epics like Downtown Shabby portray a glamorized version of the Edwardian era but the lives of the servants were not glamorous at all. They had long hours at menial tasks with no job security and very little hope of advancement. Yes, they had their place in society, in a pecking order, but they were demeaned and they had no option for the most part to pull stakes and go elsewhere.
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I have no idea of period costumed shows, I own no television. However I knew a number of the people and know the stories of others who worked and lived with my family over almost a century. I know that people who treated their help shabbily were looked down upon, that my family provided homes and work for people who probably would not have made it in other less sheltered settings (face it, working as a household servant is not for the ambitious or fully able), that treating people well was important and over the years these people graced out Sunday dinner table as guests and “family.”
That time is gone now. But something has been lost, that was important. I still remember looking at the soap stored under the basement stairs that my great-grandmother, the cook and the daily made and stored. More of a Proverbs 31 house.
Costume period epics like Downtown Shabby portray a glamorized version of the Edwardian era but the lives of the servants were not glamorous at all. They had long hours at menial tasks with no job security and very little hope of advancement. Yes, they had their place in society, in a pecking order, but they were demeaned and they had no option for the most part to pull stakes and go elsewhere.
___________________
I have no idea of period costumed shows, I own no television. However I knew a number of the people and know the stories of others who worked and lived with my family over almost a century. I know that people who treated their help shabbily were looked down upon, that my family provided homes and work for people who probably would not have made it in other less sheltered settings (face it, working as a household servant is not for the ambitious or fully able), that treating people well was important and over the years these people graced out Sunday dinner table as guests and “family.”
That time is gone now. But something has been lost, that was important. I still remember looking at the soap stored under the basement stairs that my great-grandmother, the cook and the daily made and stored. More of a Proverbs 31 house.