Early in the story, the butler in The Remains of the Day, shares his initial conceptualization of dignity as one that stems from loyalty and pride. In his youth he believed dignity to be staunch adherence to the persona that one is expected to assume.
If one considers the difference between my father at such moments and a figure such as Mr Jack Neighbors even with the best of his technical flourishes, I believe one may distinguish what it is that separates a ‘great’ butler from a merely competent one. We may now understand better, too, why my father was so fond of the story of the butler who failed to panic after discovering a tiger under the dining table; it was because he knew instinctively that somewhere in this story lay the kernel of what true ‘dignity’ is. And let me now posit this: ‘dignity’ has to do crucially with a butler’s ability not to abandon the professional being he inhabits. Lesser butlers will abandon their professional being for the private one at the least provocation. For such persons, being a butler is like playing some pantomime role; a small push, a slight stumble, and the façade will drop off to reveal the actor underneath. The great butlers are great by virtue of their ability to inhabit their professional role and inhabit it to the utmost; they will not be shaken out by external events, however surprising, alarming or vexing. They wear their professionalism as a decent gentleman will wear his suit: he will not let ruffians or circumstance tear it off him in the public gaze; he will discard it when, and only when, he wills to do so, and this will invariably be when he is entirely alone. It is, as I say, a matter of ‘dignity’.
Ishiguro, Kazuo The remains of the day, Vintage International ed. 1993, pp 42-43.
Later on, another conception of dignity is put forth by another character whose life-experience is markedly different than the butler’s. Mr. Smith believes that dignity is produced through sacrifice to a worthy cause.
‘Mind you,’ put in Mr Harry Smith, ‘with all respect for what you say, sir, it ought to be said. Dignity isn’t just something gentlemen have. Dignity’s something every man and woman in this country can strive for and get. You’ll excuse me, sir, but like I said before, we don’t stand on ceremony here when it comes to expressing opinions. And that’s my opinion for what it’s worth. Dignity’s not just something for gentlemen.’ … ‘That’s what we fought Hitler for, after all. If Hitler had had things his way, we’d just be slaves now. The whole world would be a few masters and millions upon millions of slaves. And I don’t need to remind anyone here, there’s no dignity to be had in being a slave. That’s what we fought for and that’s what we won. We won the right to be free citizens. …’
Ishiguro, Kazuo The remains of the day, Vintage International ed. 1993, pp 185-186
Painfully, the butler faces some hard truths and he is not pleased reflecting on his past choices. His lifetime of dedicated service and professionalism did not produce within himself a sense of dignity. His prior belief proved false. On reading the passage below, the butler seems to be one of the saddest characters in modern literature in my opinion. Perhaps true dignity stems from being true to oneself.
‘Lord Darlington wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a bad man at all. And at least he had the privilege of being able to say at the end of his life that he had made his own mistakes. His lordship was a courageous man. He chose a certain path in life, it proved to be a misguided one, but there, he chose it, he can say that at least. As for myself, I cannot even claim that. You see, I trusted. I trusted in his lordship’s wisdom. All those years I served him, I trusted I was doing something worthwhile. I can’t even say I made my own mistakes. Really — one has to ask oneself — what dignity is there in that?’
Ishiguro, Kazuo The remains of the day, Vintage International ed. 1993, p 244
After some reflection, the butler realizes that, for most of us, most circumstances in our lives are simply beyond our control. Dignity can also come from the pursuit of one’s aspirations, regardless of outcome.
The hard reality is, surely, that for the likes of you and I, there is little choice other than to leave our fate, ultimately, in the hands of those great gentlemen at the hub of this world who employ our services. What is the point in worrying oneself too much about what could or could not have done to control the course one’s life took? Surely it is enough that the likes of you and I at least try to make our small contribution count for something true and worthy. And if some of us are prepared to sacrifice much in life in order to pursue such aspirations, surely that is in itself, whatever the outcome, cause for pride and contentment.
Ishiguro, Kazuo The remains of the day, Vintage International ed. 1993, p. 244