It is so easy to get lost in an episode of Downton Abbey. With criss-crossing storylines and new drama in every episode, it can be increasingly hard to keep up. And the fifth episode of the second series was a perfect example.
I could not help but almost feel angry as Daisy prepared to marry William on his deathbed after he returned from the war. Looking back on old episodes of Downton, William’s fancy for Daisy was always difficult to stomach. She is not a particularly inspired or fascinating character, yet she’s garnered the interest of the only eligible young male server (other than Thomas who clearly has other interests) whom she does not even like herself.
And her disinterest in William was something incomprehensible from the very beginning. Regardless of the underdevelopment of his character, William was certainly a more pleasing figure than many other employees at Downton. He was kind, lovely and innocent. Compared to Thomas he was practically an angel. Yet Daisy fell for Thomas in series one, much to a confused audience who were not exactly taken with the underhanded low-class dandy and cohort of the sniveling witch that is O’Brien.
So as William and Daisy were wed, surrounded by beautiful vines and all of their friends and employers at Downton, I could not help but feel angry. I was upset with the mismatch of their characters. I was upset that William would go on thinking Daisy had ever loved him. I was upset that Daisy would go on as a relatively boring and unlikeable character as William passed on.
And other than the Daisy-William drama, there was quite the spike in intrigue and sadness when Matthew returns from the war as a paraplegic. As predictable as this show is at times, with expectations of histrionics guiding my interpretation and often leading me to plot points before they even occur on screen, I certainly never would have expected that.
As welcome as a surprise in a usually predictable storyline is, this was not one I was enthusiastic for. Matthew is, along with Anna and Bates, the most honorable and trustworthy character of the program, the one that I will always believe has a good heart and decent motivations.
Why do all the good men have to suffer?
It is a comfort to know that even through these toils, Matthew has retained the love and devotion of both Lavinia and Mary. But as comforting as it is, there is an equal feeling of discontent. As lovely as Lavinia is and as terribly self-righteous and at times aggravating as Mary can be, I am at war with myself over with whom of them I sympathize.
I also do have difficulty believing Lavinia is completely noble in her decision to stay with Matthew. Why would she, after only being with him for a short amount of time, be so devoted to him as to risk not being able to have children and having to virtually serve as his nurse for the rest of their lives together?
Since I love Matthew’s character, I can understand this on some level. But it begins to defy the notion of Edwardian-raised society. A woman of Lavinia’s modest wealth and social standing is bound to look for a suitor who can give her not just financial stability and a title, but also a full wedded life rather than the life of a hospice nurse.
It reduces credibility ever so slightly.
Yet with all the odd occurrences and thwarted expectations, it is hard not to still love Downton Abbey for everything its worth. The show still ranks among the most popular in England, even beating out hugely popular and successful Doctor Who for top drama at the UK’s National Television awards.
It’s a show that, even with histrionics, can captivate an audience and make them want to keep up with wandering and off-the-wall storylines. And even when parts of the plot seem unfair or maddening, it’s still just that good.