{Disclaimer #1: This post contains spoilers!}
{Disclaimer #2: Even if you’ve never seen Downton Abbey, there’s much to be learned from this character, so please keep reading. Yes, guys, this means you!}
It’s been a week since the season finale of Downton Abbey aired. Now that I’ve regained my will to live in a world that will not see a fresh episode for an entire year, I feel that there are some observations that need to be noted. Specifically about Lady Edith.
Wait, what?
There’s the greatness that is Matthew Crawley, the Lord Grantham affair, Sybil’s girl power, Matthew Crawley’s honor, the long-awaited unhinging of Thomas, the pseudo-softening of O’Brien, Matthew Crawley’s perfect proposal to Mary, the sweetness of the relationship between Daisy and William’s father, how Mr. Bates and Anna can’t seem to catch a break, and, well, Matthew Crawley’s lovely blue eyes. I could even write an entire post about how I want to put the Dowager Countess in my pocket.
But I land on Lady Edith?
Yes, Lady Edith.
The forgotten sister.
Admit it. You had to pause and refresh your memory with her character. Oh yeah, Edith…
The uglier one.
You know you think it, too.
The backstabbing girl who took her sister’s secret scandal public.
Remember Mr. Pamuk?
Yes, Lady Edith.
No one liked Lady Edith in Season 1. I mean, if we were ranking the most disliked characters on Downton Abbey, we’d tie Thomas and O’Brien for the #1 spot and award Lady Edith with second place back then. As I’ve discussed the series with various friends, I slowly started to realize that Lady Edith, the least desirable of all three sisters, was…well, she was eerily familiar.
I’m not British (but I have taught British literature), I’ve never led a privileged life (although I sometimes like to act like I do), nor do I hang out with an aristocratic bunch (I do know a former Watermelon Queen, if that counts). However, I’ve known many Lady Ediths, and on occasion, I’ve been known to be her myself.
As singles, how many of us can relate to the searing pain of loss when our beloved dies on the Titanic with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio? Not a problem for you? Okay, let’s try this again.
What about feeling inadequate or unimportant next to a more attractive/competent/intelligent/athletic/creative sister, brother, or friend? Now we’re getting somewhere…
And what about the bitterness that manifests itself when time after time guys overlook us for that better-looking sister or friend?
Or the low self-esteem that begins to take root when we start to believe that somehow we are lesser when compared to all of the other girls around us who are constantly going on dates or being pursued by gentleman suitors?
Those of us who’ve experienced unrequited love can relate to Lady Edith. We can also relate to her when she decides to settle for a much older man because she fears that she’ll never have a better offer. It doesn’t matter that he isn’t the best for her. He is a good man, he is kind, and he will take care of her. She’s tired of waiting and ready to take matters into her own hands. We, like Edith, rationalize that any woman would be fortunate to have him. Love will follow soon enough…surely.
And if love doesn’t follow, some of us know what it’s like to get increasingly more comfortable around a different man, a married man. Because if we can’t find true love in a single man, then we’ll find it wherever we can get it. Even at the expense of someone else’s marriage.
How many of us know what it feels like to constantly be dwelling on what we don’t have (a spouse) instead of using what we do have (time) to make our lives count? It was only after Lady Edith began working with the war-wounded that she softened her edges and began thinking about something other than her mediocre, privileged lot in life. Even her own sister, Lady Sybil, told her how much more pleasant she became after her humanitarian efforts. Is it possible that Edith is a good example for us of how focusing on someone else’s problems helps our own to pale?
And then there’s the whole “always a bridesmaid and never the bride” thing. How many of us have a Dowager Countess—or a grandmother or someone—telling us over and over that our time will come?
How many of us, as we host yet another wedding shower and put the gifts out on display, run our fingers along the edges of the china, silver, and crystal and wonder if indeed our time will ever come?
And how many of us have to fight back tears every single time we hear one more person make that hollow statement to us?
Speaking of hollow statements, “they” say that people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
As I put down my rock, I realize that Lady Edith is just another flawed, single girl trying to find her place in the world and terrified of what would happen if she had to live her life all alone.
A lot like me.
Were you empathetic to Lady Edith in any way? Why? What are other lessons we could learn from her?
