Dear Mr Fellowes
Re: Downton Abbey
I’m just writing to let you know just how much I love you. Indeed, such is my adoration I’m coming round to your house to lick your face.
The early part of the 20th Century was surely a period of astonishing social change, a bridge between the old world and the new. When we first met Robert Grantham et al, life seemed to run along the same lines as it had for centuries; roles and places in society were unchanged, but by 1920 hardly a single aspect of life had gone unchallenged, I guess due in no small part to a devastating war. Ah, how I love thee – let me count the ways:
I love that the folks above and below stairs are so totally intertwined in each other’s lives and that although there are strict hierarchical rules, even in how they address each other, there is mutual respect and kindness.
I love the fact that you’ve modelled the Earl of Grantham on your father and that he’s such a fine chap, kind to his servants and slow to condemn.
I want Matthew and Mary to be totally loved up forever and to have lots of babies. Please make this so. Their scenes together make me go all misty eyed.
Similarly, Anna and John Bates. I want to be like Anna, she’s such a good person.
I love Thomas. And O‘Brien. The actors who play them inject menace and resentment into their portrayals in equal measure and they are delicious.
I’m rather keen on social history so your astonishing attention to detail makes me very happy indeed. I love that certain characters embrace change, while others keep it at arm’s length for as long as they can.
I love Lady Edith and how life never quite deals her a full hand. She’s certainly the unluckiest of the Crawley sisters and one of the others has died.
I’m slightly in love with Matthew Crawley. I may write to him, too, in a non-stalkerish way.
Please say “thank you” on behalf of the women in Britain for the gorgeous clothes and jewellery. Although it pains me to say it, I just need to hear the first bar of the signature tune for my inner girlie to be released and run around unchecked for an hour or so.
I love the fact that
Branson Tom Branson has at last embraced the family he has married into and that they’ve accepted him, too – well, nearly.
The music. Lots of strings. Lush. Take a bow, John Lunn.
I also love the script, it’s so utterly engaging and precise. You’ve given Maggie Smith all the best lines but her acting without words underlines her brilliance. I recall her slight stumble whilst crossing the hall after Sybil’s death, which spoke a great deal of her grief for a lost granddaughter. Do not let her leave the series. Ever.
I want to live at Highclere Castle. Noone will notice if I sneak in, will they?
Oh, and there’s a Christmas Day episode, you say? Joy unbounded.
Lots of love,
PS: I forgive you for “Titanic”.
PPS: Next week I won’t be writing to you as I need to blog about copy and content writing again. Sorry about that.