CONTINUED FROM
PART THREE Episode 2.07
The episode focuses mainly on Matthew's recovery and his subsequent striving for independence. It is now 1919 and at least two months have passed since the Armistice at the end of the previous episode. It is difficult to decide to what extent you have been nursing Matthew up to now; Downton has after all been a convalescence home, so he might have been left in the charge of professional nurses. I will make my point about why this matters to me in a short while. Nevertheless, whatever your role in Matthew's life might have been up to this point, Downton now ceases to be a convalenscence home and Cora intends to send him home to Crawley House, where you would be in charge of his welfare. Cora stresses that she wants Matthew to «learn to be as independent as he can», which is indeed in keeping with his own wishes.
There would be so much to discuss about Matthew's relationship/non-relationship with Mary in episode 2.07, so much confusion to be debated that this subject alone could fill an essay. But fortunately, Miss Swire, we do not have to concern ourselves with that in as we agreed to concentrate on your own role in Matthew's life. So let's not muddy the pool by discussing Mary. In any case, I have to admit that the episode contains little evidence that Matthew's emotional involvement with Mary might be strong enough to jeopardize your position as his future companion. There is one scene I feel the need to comment on, however, and that is the haircut scene, not so much because of what Matthew says but because of your reaction to it. When Mary brings up the boys' haircuts the women are wearing in Paris, Matthew establishes this moment of rapport between them, in front of everybody, by replying «I hope you won't try that» and giving her that extra long look. As Mary counters «I might», you fix your eyes on Matthew for a moment, with a stern look, before glancing back and forth between Mary and him. You put on an awkward smile to break the tension: «I don't know how feminine it is». The issue in this scene for me is not so much what Matthew might consider feminine or not feminine about Mary, but rather that it very obvious that he is still attracted to her as a woman. And as a witness to this scene, you are aware of that, and yet, you choose not to deal with this attraction as a possible reason not to insist on being with him.
One night, Matthew confesses to Bates (who seems to function as his valet now) that he keeps having sensations in his legs, that he already has discussed this with Clarkson: «He says it’s an illusion. A memory of a tingling, or something. But, I mean, I do know my back is broken, I understand that I won’t recover, but…I do keep feeling it, or I think I do.» This statement signifies that Matthew, while he is rationally fatalistic and accepts his condition as hopeless, this fatalism is not really his true nature and he years for a glimmer of hope. We saw the same hopefulness in his first conversation with Mary at the hospital in 2.05, and the relevance of this conversation is only now becoming apparent. At the same time, Matthew «could not bear it» if you, his mother, or anyone «started to hope», without giving a reason for this. The most likely explanation, in my opinion, would be that he could not bear being a disappointment again to you, his mother, or anyone, in this order, if his hopes were eventually unfounded. It might also mean that he is unwilling to imagine you and him in a normal relationship but I feel the evidence is not strong enough to really corroborate this interpretation.
Then of course comes the classic moment we have all be waiting for: Le Trip. As usual, we see you and Matthew squabble when alone. You try to show off your skills as an ordinary, considerate housewife by carrying out an empty tray («I’ll do it. They’ll be busy getting dinner ready»), Matthew moans that it is too heavy for you, you contradict him («No, it’s not») only to trip over a footstool at the same moment. As you are about to fall over, Matthew miraculously leaps from his chair trying to catch you, while you manage to stop yourself from falling by holding onto the mantlepiece. You stare at each other in amazement: Matthew is standing up! He can walk!
The choreography of your stumble, his leap from his chair, and your steadying yourself is rather weird, and I wonder about its significance: Nothing about the timing matches; you and Matthew appear to be completely out of sync. Matthew's leap from his chair does not save the tray, which smashes to the floor anyway, it does not prevent you from tripping over the footstool in the first place (as if yelling «Look out» is helpful when you're already airborn), and he is not even near you to actually catch you or steady you. In fact, you manage to keep yourself on your feet quite easily without his assistance, by holding onto the mantlepiece, and Matthew walks up to you only after you are steady. The whole thing just looks mismatched, as if Matthew could not offer you any protection even if he resorted to medical miracle recoveries, or he was too slow to react, while you could not make use of his assistance because you instinctively look in other places and directions for support, unaware of his offer. Everything seems just arbitrary, rather than causally related.
If we nevertheless have to discuss the possibility that Matthew's sudden recovery might have occurred at this exact moment for a reason, there are several possible interpretations. It has been suggested that Matthew regains his strength as a man and protector at the precise moment you practically demonstrate your weakness as a woman, thus increasing your attractiveness as the «conventionally female». This interpretation could mean that the sight of you as a weak woman in need of protection instead of a caregiver inspires a patronizing and misogynic Matthew to become a mobile man again, because that would allow him to take on the role of your protector instead of being your patient. The idea of such a mindframe does not sit well with me, because if Matthew had ever been interested in conventionally weak women, he definitely would not have fallen for Mary Crawley - walking into his house in a riding suit and top hat only to make his jaw drop, going fox hunting (and staying in «for the kill») - who has never given him the opportunity to appear in any way protective. And the one time Matthew had a totally besotted teenage girl on his arm, insisting on leaning on him and flattering him incessantly about how brave he was to knock down that man in Ripon to save her - the next thing he did was to propose to the damsel's elder sister, who had pragmatically provided the young lady with a coat to cover up the blood, organized the car ride home, and arranged for some sandwiches to be made because they couldn't let him starve. While I do not put it past Matthew to be attracted to the idea of you being conventionally female (I will take up that point again later), I doubt that his reaction to you personally gives us an indication as to how he prefers to relate to women in general. I will return to this point later. Another explanation of Matthew's strangely timed recovery may be that Matthew extricates himself from his wheelchair at this precise moment because he has actual proof that you are too weak/clumsy to be a caretaker and that he simply would not be safe in your care. That was the first thought that came to my mind, but I may be a bit cynical here. Maybe it is a combination of both factors.
Everyone is thrilled, of course. Dr Clarkson apologizes, Matthew says he does not blame him and repeats that only now, as a walking man, he feels that he really «will have a life». Now things happen a bit too fast for my taste: Hardly a few hours pass from the moment Matthew discovers that he can walk again, until he announces that you two have renewed your engagement and that you will get married. If it was he who proposed, on a tidal wave of euphoria, or if it was you who pointed out that there now was no more impediment to your future union, is not for me to decide. I shall suggest, however, that you take advantage of the situation by agreeing to this marriage before anyone has had a time to recover, and time to think.
Matthew's announcement at the dinner table immediately follows on Carlisle's threat to sell Haxby Park and move Mary away from Downton. Nevertheless, the fact that the question of where to host the wedding has been discussed by you and Matthew beforehand gives me the impression that his announcement is premeditated and therefore not «caused» by Carlisle's comment. Matthew warms up by complementing you for being the «most marvellous person» during this «horrible time», and although you might not have been there for him for more that the last two months, I do not rule out the possibility that you indeed have made a good impression during that time. I also take note that the marriage goes ahead on your insistence, not Matthew's. «I never thought we would marry,» he admits openly, «for all sorts of reasons, but she wouldn’t accept that.» It is interesting that Matthew should have had «all sorts of reasons» for not thinking that you would get married, because so far we have only heard of two: his possible death in the war, and his paralysis. What were the others, I wonder? It is also noteworthy that he cannot refrain from saying it out loud. Nevertheless, he now seems to appreciate your insistence on the marriage question: «And so, now I’m very pleased to say that she’s been proved right.» Proved right that you would get married? Not necessarily that he - in his heart of hearts - ever wanted to get married to you, or wants to now? Just checking...
What comes next is an impertinent request, and a slap in the face to Mary: You want to get married at Downton, of all places. Matthew's dinner speech has left a lot of viewers fuming, including me at first, but the fact that he is the one making the actual announcement camouflages the truly outragious part of the suggestion, namely that it is your idea to host the wedding at Downton: «And she feels we ought to marry here, at Downton, to bury forever the memories of what, I hope, has been the darkest period of my life.» Of course, viewers understand that this must mean forgetting the long period between episodes 2.05 and 2.06, in which Matthew was in Mary's sole charge, and Matthew's character has
received a lot of criticism for making this cruel and dismissive remark, considering the role Mary has played in the early, difficult stages of his rehabilitation process. However, I would like to emphasize that - however much Matthew might or might not have reflected over his time with Mary - the desire to bury the memories of his convalescence stay at Downton is explicitly attributed to you.
Coming from you, the request cannot be taken as anything but an act of (possibly unconscious) aggression against who you perceive as your main rival for Matthew's affection. It is you, Miss Swire, who wants to bury all of Matthew's emotional attachment to Mary, by supplanting both his and her memories of their time together with newer memories of your triumphant wedding. To make Matthew forget that there was a time before you, and to remind Mary - every time she comes to Downton in the future - that he is no longer available to her. You will tell Matthew in episode 2.08 that you are not sure Mary will go through with her marriage to Carlisle if she knows he is available. So do not pretend that you don't know that already now. In fact, Matthew has just become properly available. He can walk and all, so whatever the reasons he himself put forward against being with Mary in 2.05 and 2.06 are no longer an issue. She could have a real life with him, by her and his standards. He is not engaged. And Mary knows how to ask. She has done so before. «I don't have to marry him you know.» Despite being blackmailed, despite risking personal ruin. She would ask. That's how much she wants Matthew. One word from him would settle it for her. You know she would have asked him again. Let the dust settle, let his endorphine levels go back to normal, and then... Do you realise how dangerous this woman is? Of course you do. And you act fast, before Matthew even has the time to think or Mary time to make a move. You take advantage of the situation and snatch him away before Mary can become a real threat again. How cunning! You must be so pleased! And top it all off by using Matthew as a messenger, or should I say executioner, to deal out this blow to Mary... This is so disgusting - I am lost for words.
The fact that the whole idea of a Downton marriage to bury memories was your plan, makes me see Matthew behaviour at the dinner table in a slightly different light. As a matter of fact, he seems too embarrassed to make eye contact with Mary when he goes on about how marvellous you are and when he announces your wedding plans. I do not believe that you wilfully look at someone you are about to speak lowly of, which makes the following all the more significant: When he comes to the «memories of what, I hope, has been the darkest period of my life», Matthew looks directly at Mary at the precise moment he says «darkest period of my life», as if to strengthen that connection in his own memory at least, but not least suggesting that he still has memories of their time together. His very need to look at her at precisely that moment also make me question if the words coming out of his mouth really reflect his own feelings, and if he himself has any intention of burying the memories of this «darkest period» - given that Mary was with him in the dark - in short, if «dark» for him is a negative word at all. And it makes me wonder if Matthew may not indeed «hope» that there never will be an even darker period in his life if he were forced to face it without Mary. You may well accuse me of stretching the evidence a bit, Miss Swire, and you may of course accuse me of discussing emotions that do not pertain to your own relationship with Matthew, but I would like to point out that - in contrast to this - Matthew describes the time when you have been so marvellous as nevertheless «horrible» as far as he is concerned. Just to put things in perspective.
The reason why I am making this point at all is the following: In the final, you will complain to Matthew that he makes you feel like a nuisance, you will confront him with the fact that he has been emotionally cheating on you, and you will feel sorry for yourself. Let me tell you this, Miss Swire: If you knowingly and willingly tie down a man who is emotionally committed to someone else, if you can't help shooting suspicious glances in their direction when they talk, yet you never bother to confront him on the matter for years, if he tells you openly that there are «all sorts of reasons» why he cannot picture himself with you, if you are well aware that your rival would break off her engagement the second she knew your fiancé was making himself available to her - if you really expect these two to repress their feelings for each other for the rest of their lives and to keep their hands and mouths to themselves, and if you react with surprise if they should fail to do so - let me assure you that every heartache you might feel that moment, you have brought in on yourself! This is not about Matthew's choice. This is about yours. You have chosen this over giving him up. So do not expect me to feel sorry for you, Miss Swire. You reap what you sow.
There has been much discussion about why Matthew did not break off his engagement with you once he realised that he was in love with Mary, and when in the series he might have done that. I would like to argue that it was actually you who was in a better position to break off the engagement, with a minimum of discomfort for all parties, once you have realised that you and Matthew are a mismatch. There was no plotdriven need for you to die in order to release Matthew from his obligation, I insist on that. You will admit in the final that you are a mismatch but the fact itself becomes obvious on any possible level in episode 2.07. This episode was your chance to show that you have a heart and release Matthew from whatever sense of obligation he might have felt. There would have been no drama. You could have turned down his euphoric proposal (in case he did the proposing) before he made it public, for both his and your sake. And even after the announcement at the dinner table, you could have changed your mind after a good night's sleep saying that you have had time to think about what this marriage implies, and that you no longer feel that Matthew and you would work well together as an ordinary couple. The wedding preparations haven't even started. Everybody (expect Cora and Carlisle, perhaps) would have «understood.» People call off engagements, it happens, even among honourable people. Evelyn Napier broke up with his fiancée in episode 1.07 without any scandal. You wouldn't even have to drag Mary's name into this. Even if Matthew had protested, you could have just refused to listen - which you claim to be very good at anyway. He would have gotten over it, he's not the dying type. But you did not pull out. You wanted this marriage. You wanted it, knowing that you and Matthew are not well matched, and one episode later you complain about never having wanted to be a countess anyway, and you cry about that kiss. Remember, Miss Swire, episode 2.07 is your big chance to pull out, and to do the honourable thing because you «love» Matthew very very much, all that is true. But you don't. You just sit there, quiet almost throughout the entire episode, and let Matthew do the talking. As usual, you wilfully pass on the full responsibility (and culpability) for ascertaing your future happiness to Matthew.
You are lucky, because he is the type to actually take it on. During the luncheon scene in episode 2.07, both you and he are witnesses to the drama around Ethel and the Bryants, and you hear Mr Bryant's view on what must be considered proper conduct for a nobleman: «If Charles was the father, he would never have shirked his responsibilities. Never». Mr Bryant's son, the late Major Bryant, is of course exposed as a man who did shirk from his responsibilities, and I see this embarrassing scene as a build-up to Matthew's later predicament. The two of you also participate in a discussion about irreparable life choices, sparked by the Ethel and Bryant incident, which I see as yet another build-up scene. When Mary suggests that «Ethel has made her choice and now she's stuck with it», you react to what you might perceive as fatalism: «That seems a little hard.» Mary is adamant: «Does it? Aren't all of us stuck with the choices we make?» Both you and Matthew avoid eye contact with anyone, including each other, and stare straight ahead as she says this.
CONTINUE TO
PART FIVE