We start with the downstairs morning dance of getting breakfast prepared, and it hits me that this is the last season. I'm going to miss this!
The episode was certainly one for its female characters, not just in focusing on them but in exploring some overtly feminine concerns: wedding days, pregnancy issues and ways to deal with chauvinist men. I've said it before and I'll say it again – I'll always appreciate Julian Fellowes for delving into this type of material, no matter how inconsequential it might seem.
And yet I was let down by the lack of Mary/Edith solidarity. I was looking forward to it considering they definitely had a brief moment of understanding when their father offers to decorate the servant's quarters for Carson's wedding...
And it seemed a no-brainer that the two would at some point discuss the fact that Mary is having trouble commanding respect as the new estate agent while Edith is struggling with a new editor that hates having a woman in charge – but they never went there. In fact, this was Mary's reaction to Edith's plight:
Mary, I know I'm not supposed to like you in this moment, but I really do wish you would move past this constant irritation with Edith. At this point it's like trying to make fetch happen – no one else cares about it.
So unsurprisingly, Mary sails through her troubles with the pig farmer, while Edith continues to deal with an irate editor. Can't she just fire him?
(That said, I like that the pig farmer was clearly taken aback at the thought of Mary as an estate agent, but managed to keep his composure. It's probably a more realistic response than the crap Edith has to put up with, as the difference in social class at this time would still require some level of respect).
Hey, at least they're both getting non-romantic plots, right?
Much better material for Mary was the way she dealt with Anna, specifically in discussing their history together and taking her to a London clinic for a medical consultation. They even reference Mr Pamuk, and you know you're in a final season when you get call-backs to the first. "We have had our moments," indeed.
It's always nice to see Mary display compassion, and honestly I think she has it in abundance – she only conveys it to a minimal selection of people (Anna, Carson, Sybil). It's an interesting character trait, but one that's probably quite true of a lot of people in the world.
And since Anna is struggling with the Law of Inverse Fertility, she'll no doubt be nursing a baby by the end of the show. It's a guarantee.
A storyline less easy to predict is that of poor Thomas. I mostly feel entirely sympathetic toward him now (though concede he would be a pain to live with) especially when you consider he's spent his entire life training to be a butler only to find the position is nearly obsolete.
And then there's whatever is going on with Andy. Thomas is offering the hand of friendship (perhaps with a little trace of something more) and Andy politely rebuffs him at every turn. I hope this overt cold shoulder is actually because Andy secretly likes him and is afraid of the consequences. Just give the poor guy a boyfriend already!
But in a nice reflection, Thomas is just as dismissive of Baxter as Andy is to him. I liked her line: "You won't let me be fond of you." She's like the kind version of Mrs O'Brien; one who could be a good influence on Thomas if only he'd let her.
It was very sweet that Carson wants Mary (specifically Mary) at his wedding given all that she means to him, but I hope Mrs Hughes puts her foot down about not being a servant on her wedding day – that is, not holding the ceremony or the reception at Downton.
This misunderstanding is quite an understandable one, with Mary convinced she's doing them a favour by lending them the great hall, and Carson treating it as a betrayal of the family should they not accept. But nope, I'm fully in Mrs Hughes's corner for this one.
Finally, we wrap things up with the poor Drewes. I'm glad Fellowes didn't forget the woman who had her heart broken by the removal of her child, and though I can understand Edith's predicament, most of my sympathy lies with Mrs Drewe. None of this was her fault, and I didn't like the fact the Drewes will now have to be uprooted from their home in order to spare themselves more suffering.
As Mr Drewe said, the family has lived there for generations, and won't Edith end up in that London apartment anyway? Why doesn't she just shift there with Marigold now? The more I think about it the more irritated I am with her at the upheaval she inflicted on this family, whose only crime was taking in a foundling child and loving it.
But there was also some interesting material regarding Mary's thoughts/feelings toward Marigold. Although she rejects the term "aunt" when called as such, she refers to Marigold as "darling" and was obviously happy enough to include her in an outing with George. I wasn't sure how exactly Mary would react to the inclusion of (what she thinks is) a foundling child to the inner circle of the family, but she's certainly not excluding her in any way.
I had forgotten exactly what Mary thought the situation was, but a quick check reminded me that she's under the impression that Marigold is an orphan who was initially taken in by the Drewes, only for them to give her up when they realized they weren't able to afford her. So she clearly expected Mrs Drewe to have some reaction to Marigold's presence, though I'm surprised she didn't pick up on her surprisingly deep emotional response.
Mary isn't stupid, but she's also completely uninterested in anything to do with Edith, so there's a good chance she won't figure it out by herself. Surely she'll find out eventually though.
That said, I was a bit shocked at Cora's assessment of the situation, in which she says Edith doesn't want Mary to know because: "she thinks Mary would use it as a weapon and she may be right." Good grief, do they think Mary is some sort of psychopath?? I suppose Edith dreads Mary making snotty comments about illegitimate children after Edith once slut-shamed her for sleeping with Mr Pamuk, but surely Mary is mature enough not to drag a little girl into the Glorious War of Sisterly Rivalry, right?
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