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I think the problem is that the text doesn't know the characters are rich people, but they are
I keep having to quit watching midcentury comedies because you're being introduced in leisurely fashion to middle class characters you're supposed to find relatable and charming and they have multiple servants.
I just can't.
(The same thing doesn't apply to film noir and mysteries and thrillers and so on because these genres don't usually expect their characters to be charming and relatable to begin with. In fact, I often find these funnier than the comedies, albeit unintentionally.)
The edifice of midcentury white-collar jobs in the industrialized nations that created a huge balloon of suburban middle class with often multiple servants strikes me as in a way as peculiar, and as much a monument to the wealth extraction projects of colonialism, as those grotesque gilded neoclassical buildings that sprouted like mushrooms in the urban centers of the 19th century. That sort of lens is increasingly unavoidable whenever I watch or read anything, so it precludes even old texts being escapist in the sense of escaping association with unpleasant realities. But I find that genuinely old books and films are still able to offer an extra level of distraction because of their status as primary documents about the periods in which they're produced and the things you can learn about the past through them by observing. (The cars in old movies are great, and the architecture and interiors, especially little things like doorframes and light fixtures, are an unending source of delight.)
I just can't.
(The same thing doesn't apply to film noir and mysteries and thrillers and so on because these genres don't usually expect their characters to be charming and relatable to begin with. In fact, I often find these funnier than the comedies, albeit unintentionally.)
The edifice of midcentury white-collar jobs in the industrialized nations that created a huge balloon of suburban middle class with often multiple servants strikes me as in a way as peculiar, and as much a monument to the wealth extraction projects of colonialism, as those grotesque gilded neoclassical buildings that sprouted like mushrooms in the urban centers of the 19th century. That sort of lens is increasingly unavoidable whenever I watch or read anything, so it precludes even old texts being escapist in the sense of escaping association with unpleasant realities. But I find that genuinely old books and films are still able to offer an extra level of distraction because of their status as primary documents about the periods in which they're produced and the things you can learn about the past through them by observing. (The cars in old movies are great, and the architecture and interiors, especially little things like doorframes and light fixtures, are an unending source of delight.)
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