Downton Abbey: Random thoughts

I have these grand intentions of reading all those books that have been languishing on my bookshelves for months (sometimes, egads, years) - reading them all snappily, writing reviews and snarky comments the day after finishing, and generally meeting goals and powering through some good intentions. Per my last post, I even reorganized my bookshelf to put all those books together in an attempt to motivate myself. It's...sort-of working. If I can ever make it through A Sideways Look at Time, I'll be on my way. And boy-howdy, do I have some snarky things to say about that one. (And this time I'm actually taking copious notes, so the snark can be presented here for your reading amusement.) 

Grand intentions are well and good. I still have them. I will read those books, and you will hear about them. 

But...I started watching Downton Abbey. (Yes, yes, I'm behind the times. The last time I watched something in real time, on an actual television? Erm, probably the Joan of Arcadia days, which aired in *does a quick Google* 2003. Yikes. That was more than a decade ago.) And then I got sick, and didn't want to leave my sofa/my head was too congested to breathe, and I was pretty zoned-out on Benadryl; excuses excuses, I watched Downton instead of reading. 

It is exactly as my friends describe it: An Edwardian soap opera. And I am so there. For the accents, for the costumes, for the scenery (THAT MANOR - can you imagine that being your for realz house?), for the sass. 

So instead of book reviews, here are my mid-season recaps of seasons 1 and 2 of Downton, as sent to a couple of my friends. Mildly edited for fancyness, since you, reader, are the wide internet and not necessarily my friends well-versed in my idiolect. 

Season 1, mid-way synopsis: I'm still in season one, and so far: Thomas is gay (and awful), Cousin Matthew is nice (and oblivious), I feel terribly bad for William, the Turk is dead (of the Angel disease, I think - you know, the one where you sleep with your ladyfriend and there are Consequences), Bates has tried and rejected a limp corrector, and Carson is forced to admit he was once on the stage. 

Season 2, mid-way synopsis: Maggie Smith is indeed perfect. I love it that she is sassy but not awful (sometimes,  à la Pride and Prejudice, the stuffy, upper-crust aunt is just unbearable; but Cousin Violet is just sort of old and daffy, instead of absolutely and unrelentingly stern and prejudiced). William has died, Daisy is conflicted about marrying him, Thomas remains awful (but a point to the actor/the writers: there are brief moments when I'm like, "Yes, you are a terrible person who is making terrible decisions, but yeah, I sorta get why you are this way."), Lady Mary is softening a bit, Cousin Matthew's all like, "We can't have the sex therefore I must not marry you, my dearest Lavinia!" (imagine me hand-on-brow, angst face), Lady Sybil obviously wants to take up with the chauffeur (and who could blame her?) but is conflicted, etc. etc. etc.

Basically, there's a war on, social codes are changing, and people are conflicted about it. In fancy hats and incredible coats.

xo,
Devo