The Remains of the Day

by Kazuo Ishiguro

This is loyalty intelligently bestowed. What is there ‘undignified’ in this? One is simply accepting an inescapable truth: that the likes of you and I will never be in a position to comprehend the great affairs of today’s world, and our best course will always be to put our trust in an employer we judge to be wise and honourable, and to devote our energies to the task of serving him to the best of our ability.

And as far as I am concerned, I carried out my duties to the best of my abilities, indeed to a standard which many may consider ‘first rate’. It is hardly my fault if his lordship’s life and work have turned out today to look, at best, a sad waste – and it is quite illogical that I should feel any regret or shame on my own account.

‘I say, I hope you don’t think me very rude. But you aren’t a manservant of some sort, are you?’ I must confess, my overwhelming feeling on hearing this was one of relief. ‘I am indeed, sir. In fact, I am the butler of Darlington Hall, near Oxford.’

‘Hmm. That’s taking it a little too far, I’d say. People do have a political conscience of sorts here. They feel they ought to have strong feelings on this and that, just as Harry urges them to. But really, they’re no different from people anywhere. They want a quiet life. Harry has a lot of ideas about changes to this and that, but really, no one in the village wants upheaval, even if it might benefit them. People here want to be left alone to lead their quiet little lives. They don’t want to be bothered with this issue and that issue.’

‘What about you, old chap?’ ‘I’m sorry, sir?’ ‘What do you think dignity’s all about?’ The directness of this inquiry did, I admit, take me rather by surprise. ‘It’s rather a hard thing to explain in a few words, sir,’ I said. ‘But I suspect it comes down to not removing one’s clothing in public’. ‘Sorry. What does?’ ‘Dignity, sir.’

One memory in particular has preoccupied me all morning – or rather, a fragment of a memory, a moment that has for some reason remained with me vividly through the years. It is a recollection of standing alone in the back corridor before the closed door of Miss Kenton’s parlour; I was not actually facing the door, but standing with my person half turned towards it, transfixed by indecision as to whether or not I should knock; for at that moment, as I recall, I had been struck by the conviction that behind that very door, just a few yards from me, Miss Kenton was in fact crying.

But now, having thought further, I believe I may have been a little confused about this matter; that in fact this fragment of memory derives from events that took place on an evening at least a few months after the death of Miss Kenton’s aunt – the evening, in fact, when the young Mr Cardinal turned up at Darlington Hall rather unexpectedly.

‘I would not say I am not curious, sir. However, it is not my position to display curiosity about such matters.’ ‘It’s not your position? Ah, I suppose you believe that to be loyalty. Do you? Do you think that’s being loyal? To his lordship? Or to the Crown, come to that?’ ‘I’m sorry, sir, I fail to see what it is you are proposing.’

‘Tell me, Stevens, aren’t you struck by even the remote possibility that I am correct? Are you not, at least, curious about what I am saying?’ ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I have to say that I have every trust in his lordship’s good judgement.’

‘I am surprised to find you still down here. Miss Kenton,’ I said as I approached. ‘Mr Stevens, I was very foolish earlier on.’ ‘Excuse me. Miss Kenton, but I have no time to talk just now.’ ‘Mr Stevens, you mustn’t take anything I said earlier to heart. I was simply being foolish.’ ‘I have not taken anything you have said to heart, Miss Kenton. In fact, I cannot recall what it is you might be referring to. Events of great importance are unfolding upstairs and I can hardly stop to exchange pleasantries with you. I would suggest you retire for the night.’

‘The fact is, Mrs Benn, throughout the war, some truly terrible things had been said about his lordship – and by that newspaper in particular. He bore it all while the country remained in peril, but once the war was over, and the insinuations simply continued, well, his lordship saw no reason to go on suffering in silence. It’s easy enough to see now, perhaps, all the dangers of going to court just at that time, what with the climate as it was. But there you are.

‘Well, for instance, Mrs Benn,’ I said with a laugh, ‘at one point in your letter, you write – now let me see – “the rest of my life stretches out like an emptiness before me.” Some words to that effect.’ ‘Really, Mr Stevens,’ she said, also laughing a little. ‘I couldn’t have written any such thing.’ ‘Oh, I assure you you did, Mrs Benn. I recall it very clearly.’ ‘Oh dear. Well, perhaps there are some days when I feel like that. But they pass quickly enough. Let me assure you, Mr Stevens, my life does not stretch out emptily before me. For one thing, we are looking forward to the grandchild. The first of a few perhaps.’

‘Well, whatever awaits me, Mrs Benn, I know I’m not awaited by emptiness. If only I were. But oh no, there’s work, work and more work.’

‘I can see you are not very satisfied, Mr Stevens,’ Miss Kenton said. ‘Do you not believe me?’ ‘Oh, it’s not that, Mrs Benn, not that at all. It’s just that the fact remains, you do not seem to have been happy over the years. That is to say – forgive me – you have taken it on yourself to leave your husband on a number of occasions. If he does not mistreat you, then, well … one is rather mystified as to the cause of your unhappiness.’

‘I feel I should answer you, Mr Stevens. As you say, we may not meet again for many years. Yes, I do love my husband. I didn’t at first. I didn’t at first for a long time. When I left Darlington Hall all those years ago, I never realized I was really, truly leaving. I believe I thought of it as simply another ruse, Mr Stevens, to annoy you. It was a shock to come out here and find myself married. For a long time, I was very unhappy, very unhappy indeed. But then year after year went by, there was the war, Catherine grew up, and one day I realized I loved my husband. You spend so much time with someone, you find you get used to him. He’s a kind, steady man, and yes, Mr Stevens, I’ve grown to love him.’

For instance, I get to thinking about a life I may have had with you, Mr Stevens. And I suppose that’s when I get angry over some trivial little thing and leave.

‘You’re very correct, Mrs Benn. As you say, it is too late to turn back the clock. Indeed, I would not be able to rest if I thought such ideas were the cause of unhappiness for you and your husband. We must each of us, as you point out, be grateful for what we do have. And from what you tell me, Mrs Benn, you have reason to be contented.

His claim was that for a great many people, the evening was the best part of the day, the part they most looked forward to. And as I say, there would appear to be some truth in this assertion, for why else would all these people give a spontaneous cheer simply because the pier lights have come on?

‘The fact is, of course,’ I said after a while, ‘I gave my best to Lord Darlington. I gave him the very best I had to give, and now – well – I find I do not have a great deal more left to give.’

Goodness knows, I’ve tried and tried, but it’s no use. I’ve given what I had to give. I gave it all to Lord Darlington.’ ‘Oh dear, mate. Here, you want a hankie? I’ve got one somewhere. Here we are. It’s fairly clean. Just blew my nose once this morning, that’s all. Have a go, mate.’ ‘Oh dear, no, thank you, it’s quite all right. I’m very sorry, I’m afraid the travelling has tired me. I’m very sorry.’

He chose a certain path in life, it proved to be a misguided one, but there, he chose it, he can say that at least. As for myself, I cannot even claim that. You see, I trusted. I trusted in his lordship’s wisdom. All those years I served him, I trusted I was doing something worthwhile. I can’t even say I made my own mistakes. Really – one has to ask oneself – what dignity is there in that?’

‘You’ve got to enjoy yourself. The evening’s the best part of the day. You’ve done your day’s work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it. That’s how I look at it. Ask anybody, they’ll all tell you. The evening’s the best part of the day.’

Perhaps, then, there is something to his advice that I should cease looking back so much, that I should adopt a more positive outlook and try to make the best of what remains of my day. After all, what can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished?

The hard reality is, surely, that for the likes of you and I, there is little choice other than to leave our fate, ultimately, in the hands of those great gentlemen at the hub of this world who employ our services. What is the point in worrying oneself too much about what one could or could not have done to control the course one’s life took? Surely it is enough that the likes of you and I at least try to make our small contribution count for something true and worthy. And if some of us are prepared to sacrifice much in life in order to pursue such aspirations, surely that is in itself, whatever the outcome, cause for pride and contentment.

After all, when one thinks about it, it is not such a foolish thing to indulge in – particularly if it is the case that in bantering lies the key to human warmth.