And compassion is something Mary has been in short supply of
for the last few episodes when it comes to poor Edith. After stealing away to
London with her illicit child, the house was steeped in worry for the middle
Crawley sister; well, all but Mary and Rose. Rose couldn’t manage to have her
dinner plans canceled with the Aldridge family (much like she couldn’t handle
having the trip to the races cancelled when Edith received news of Michael’s
death). Perhaps Rose is spending too much time with Mary, who also turned an
icy shoulder to Edith after she had gone, responding pointedly “Edith gone
away, so what?” which drew from me “what a bitch!” Yes. I called my fake TV
wife a bitch. Well, not my wife, because if you hadn’t heard, we’re getting
divorced. But that was addressed in the last post. Thank you for your
condolences. Anyways, neither Mary nor Rose would stand for the dinner to be
cancelled, so in spite of the sister on the lam, the party went on.
News of the underlying factors of Edith’s disappearance soon
reached Cora’s ears, just a few moments shy of Violet and Rosamund breaking the
news themselves. After a (spiteful or concerned?) visit from Mrs. Drew, Cora
gave Violet and Rosamund a sound verbal lashing for keeping her in the obsolete
dark, and together they dashed off to London in search of Poor Edith. Once
stumbling upon her and nearly creating a very un-ladylike scene, she met the
trio for tea and hatched a plan to return little Posey to Downton without
raising questions, and Edith prepared to take on a foster child.
The arrival of Tulip did raise some questions for Anna and
Mrs. Hughes, who have been collecting tidbits of hints about the child like
Hansel and Gretel collecting bread crumbs, but the matter was pushed to the
side as bigger issues had presented themselves. Anna and Bates continue to mull
over the inspections and investigations, and carry quite a grudge against
Baxter for talking to the police in spite of her claims that she told them
nothing. This is where I get a tad hazy in the hypocrisy. Mrs. O’Brien was
forced to take the stand at Bates’ last trial and ultimately provided evidence
against him, as did Mrs. Hughes and Lord Donk. But rotting in a jail cell, his
fate unknown, Bates advised Anna to forgive and forget, because they were in
positions that they could not help. Perhaps time in prison hardened Bates so
that even when no evidence is given, no sentence ruled, and no history of bad
blood is present, he and Anna can still be vindictive towards Baxter, in spite
of her own position. On the positive side, Bates acknowledges that the love
sponge was not Anna’s, and the two start planning their happily ever after
future of a family and a small blissful motel. Because how could an
establishment named the Bates’ Motel be anything but happy and peaceful? Hmmm…maybe
Anna should hold off on the babies.
Tony is continuing to struggle with the reality that his
baking with Mary is now over. He still believes she is betrothed to him after
taking a piece of that pie, and he shares with Blake that he still doesn’t
believe Mary wants to break it off, because of course saying “I don’t want to
marry you” wasn’t clear enough. It’s hard to hear the truth, and even harder to
accept it after she spends a precious sponge on you, but for god’s sake get a
clue! Finally Blake stepped in on his white horse and locked lips with Mary at
the movies knowing Tony would stumble upon them. The lightning strikes and the
bulb above his beautiful but empty head flickers on. “You could have just told
me to leave.” Um, because “it’s over” wasn’t it. “I don’t love you.” Nope, not
comprehending. “Mabel doesn’t need to sponge with you.” Lalalala, I can’t hear
you! Bye Tony.
As he prances off to spend a life of matrimony with Mabel,
two more weddings are flooding the Crawley house, and none too warmly welcomed.
After Isobel announced her engagement to Lord Merton (and yes I now realize I
jumped the gun on the last blog, sorry if I gave any spoilers but as I always
say, I blame the UK), a dinner was planned to formally introduce Isobel to the
good ole offspring. Larry left a bitter taste in the mouths of everyone at
Downton during his last visit, especially Tom, whom he slipped a mickey into
his drink (or a molly, we can’t truly be sure of his intentions…looks like a
Thomas to me). And in true fashion, he continued to be a jerk, though he
brought reinforcements this time with his brother. A discussion of religious
differences stemming from Rose and Atticus’ relationship turned harsh as they
noted that all considerable differences doom marriages, including class
differences such as the lowly Mrs. Crawley and their high and mighty family.
Please note, though being middle class is damning in this world, being a prat
is completely permitted if you have the money and the title to cover up your
being an ass clown. Well maybe not completely permitted as it ultimately got
him extricated from the dining room, but let’s be real, he’ll go on to live
another prat-filled day in his prat-filled life and no real consequences will
ever come to his leisurely and entitled world. Yeah I'm using a lot of English lingo...I think if I master these terms I could be entitled to a bilingual stipend at work.
Rose and Atticus on the other hand crept away and in an all
too familiar manner, Atticus proposed to Rose, but she would only give an
answer if he did it properly. I told you she was spending too much time with
Mary, now she’s stealing lines that Mary gave long before she even joined this
damn show! Please don’t mistake my jokes and banter with these characters as
dislike, I love this show, as the title of my blog so aptly points out, but it
seems this season is brimming with recreations of previous incidents, and
though initially I found it to be cutely coincidental, now it reeks of lack of
imagination and original ideas. From another righteous character with a shady
criminal past who may have been sacked (Bates and Baxter), to another
accusation of murder for Bates, Thomas continuing to backstab, another house
servant studying to make something better of themselves, Mary mulling over men
and Edith being ransacked by every moment of life ever, can we please have a
change in pace here?
In spite of the repetitiveness, some things have changed. We
were thrown a curveball with Violet and the true reasons of her despair with
Isobel, noting that she was losing her companion and friend to this marriage,
not losing her high ground to the middle class Crawley. Becoming teary-eyed,
the poor dowager discloses her fears of loneliness after her partner in crime
ties the knot. Tom changes the game up a bit as well as he determines he and
Sybbie will be leaving the family to travel to America. What I loved about this
scene, aside from the fact that we see a parent actually spending time with
their child (yes Alastair B, we know aristocrats don’t do this and it shouldn’t
be expected), but I loved that they were playing Poohsticks. Yes Poohsticks.
No, not poo-sticks, that’s an entirely different game that involves a dog and a lot of hand-washing after. Poohsticks was part of a Winnie the Pooh cartoon I watched as a child.
Winnie and Piglet played this on the local bridge of the hundred acre wood, and
upon stepping to the other side to spot the winner, the poor despondent donkey
Eeyore came floating out the other end…"don’t mind me, nobody ever does.” I’d be
lying if I didn’t half expect Lord Donk to come floating out as well, as I’d assumed
this was what donkeys do in England. Oh well.
In sad closure of this blog, Isis, Donk’s beloved
four-legged friend, was diagnosed with cancer, and most likely, will be gone by
the next episode. I can’t even. I won’t. I love dogs and I’ve lost a few to
cancer. Goodbye Isis. That is all.
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