The other day we watched a BBC costume
drama, North and South, a 2004 TV
adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel.
I have owned the DVD for a couple of years,
which was bought together with another BBC period drama, Cranford. At that time, I was unaware of either Gaskell the author or her work.
I still haven’t read the original of North and South but have heard that the
TV adaptation is quite faithful to the written story. The drama itself is worth
watching for its romance, social concerns, its first-class acting, great
chemistry between the main actors and atmosphere-creating cinematography.
The story takes place in England in the nineteenth-century when English society was divided between its industrial north and
the middle-class south. A young lady, Margaret Hale, moves to Milton with her
middle-class family from a southern town, Helston; she then struggles to overcome her shock at
the ruthlessness of the northern culture, learns to adapt herself to
appreciating the working-class environ, gets to speak her social conscience aloud, and falls
in love with a mill owner, John Thornton.
In the first episode of the serial, there
is one scene that struck me. One day after the Hales have just moved to Milton,
Margaret takes her routine stroll through the town. Descending a long staircase
in a deprived area, she is suddenly crowded out of the main path by a group of workers
who have just rushed out of mills for a break. Her distinctive beauty makes her a ready target for ridicule. Some of them
start to tease her though without any obvious intent to harm, but the
approach terrifies her. Higgins, one of the workers, comes to her rescue and
escorts her to pass through the crowd. Showing gratitude, Margaret offers a
coin to Higgins, who, however, replies instead ‘no charge, miss.’
The brief encounter reminds me of an incident
during my stay in England. I used to share a rented house with friends. In one
winter, the boiler of the house was in a terrible shape; it would stop functioning
up to 3 or 4 times within a short span of one shower. Technicians were called
in several times to no avail. The landowner was reluctant to replace the
boiler, as it was costly. One day, another technician was contacted to check on
the boiler again after another disastrous night. He informed me that scales had
already piled up in the pipes and left very small space for water to go
through, and the boiler would simply cease working if water pressure got low.
He suggested that the best solution was a replacement given that the old boiler had already toiled for some good years. I phoned the landlady
to explain the situation, but she remained unwilling and doubtful. I remember
my language faltered as I did not understand much about the problem myself, and
I also lacked the verbal ability to argue and persuade. I must have
sounded even worse in a language that is not my mother tongue. The technician
probably had heard my struggle and offered to take over the negotiation. In the
end, the landlady made a concession to our favour.
My personal experience is an issue
complicated with multiple layers of differences between landlords and tenants, between
blue collar and white collar, between the foreign and the native. While I was trapped
in my own awkwardness when faced with these gaps, the one who helped me solve
the problem was a total stranger, someone who had the least to do with the trouble.
The landlady, however, who had the legal responsibility to offer comfort of
accommodation, was reluctant to offer any assistance that might result in
further expense.
My personal note and the fictional episode
might not seem to have any obvious connection, but they together offer some
elements for thoughts, I think. The contrastive views on money are employed to
denote class differences in an interesting way. Those who are economically
advantaged have the tendency of measuring human relationships in monetary
terms. On the one hand, they are brought up to believe that money can solve
problems and, on the other hand, they are also taught to expect that people who are economically inferior
would always crave material return. The centrality of money here deprives a
social being of the faith in innocent kindness and inculcates instead a false principal
according to which everything can be, and should be, evaluated by its
material worth.
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As I have said, the serial of North and South was a pleasant watch. The
leading actors, Richard Armitage as John Thornton and Daniela Denby-Ashe as
Margaret Hale, were extremely charming, and they created such great chemistry
in their performance. It is really difficult to take eyes away from the lovely couple. Armitage
is definitely a rare gem in many aspects as an actor, let alone his beautiful
look (!). He also played Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the dwarves, in Peter
Jackson’s new trilogy of The Hobbit.
The setup of the ending in the drama is
slightly different from that of the book, but I do prefer the television
version. A banal happy ending in print was transformed into a very romantic and
magical moment, which would definitely tickle every single viewer. To use
Armitage’s own comment on this favourite scene of his, ‘it is a nice way to
spend an afternoon.’
