I’ve always imagined that, in a
previous life, I was born a servant. When I’ve occasionally visited grand
houses, I’m more drawn to the downstairs than to the sumptuous upstairs. For
example, I vastly prefer the below-stairs “butler’s tour” at the Biltmore House
in Asheville to viewing the upstairs of the great house. I was intrigued to
learn that Biltmore had one of the country’s first electric washing machines
and moisture extractors—a must to handle all the linens of visitors to the
250-room mansion—and I was charmed by the idea of an entire room, albeit tiny,
devoted to making pastry.
So, the notion of Longbourn appealed to me immediately.
And the novel by British writer Jo Baker didn’t disappoint.
Baker imagines the life and times
of the staff who serve the fictional Bennet family of Pride and Prejudice fame. There’s Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper and
main attendant to the flighty Mrs. Bennet, who refers to her simply as “Hill.”
Hill’s husband combines duties of carriage driver and butler. Then, there are
two maids, rescued from a life as orphans, the naïve Polly and Sarah, the
book’s heroine.
Baker describes the backbreaking,
soul-stealing work required of these servants to keep even a modestly
middle-class family like the Bennets’ functioning. Baker’s serious research
into domestic demands of the early-19th century households gives the story a
convincing authenticity. She provides staggering details about, for example,
the series of grinding tasks required just to do one day’s laundry. (No
electric washing machine here…) London’s Guardian
newspaper notes: “…the miseries of washday present
a whole new perspective on Elizabeth's determination to tramp across muddy
fields to Netherfield to be with Jane ("If Elizabeth had the washing
of her own petticoats, Sarah often thought, she'd most likely be a sight
more careful with them")
But all is
not chilblains and 18-hour workdays below stairs. The staff share bonds of
affection, and romance beckons, once a mysterious stranger joins the
household. Long-held secrets
complicate the moral compass of some characters, and courage and integrity
characterize others.
In all, Longbourn is a satisfying read. It
doesn’t pander and doesn’t sentimentalize. Rather, it’s a fresh re-imagining of
Jane Austen’s world where the downstairs world is every bit as fascinating as
the lives of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.