Rascality--sheesh. Though I have little doubt that 150 years from now they'll look back at some things we believe in, and think, "How unenlightened!"
As to women: I am maybe a quarter of the way into a book called "Maharanis", by Lucy Moore. It's about how four independent-minded women in India helped change society and eventually the nation there in the early part of the 1900's. I'm having a hard time with all the strange-to-me names, but it's quite interesting. One of the things I learned was about purdah: up until that time, it was forbidden for wives (at least the maharajahs' wives) to be seen by any man other than their husband, so they and their maidservants and children were kept in a separate part of the palace, and curtains were hung or held up to screen them from view on the rare occasions they went out. Women were seen pretty much as breeders only, which is why at least the powerful men often had several wives. The book also said that it was fairly common for girl babies to be murdered.
One of the things I note about this book, and most historical English novels is that, while I enjoy getting insight into how some of the people lived in earlier times, there really don't seem to be many that tell the story of people who lived as servants. While I now know a lot more about life in India then than I did before I started the book, I couldn't help but notice some of the descriptions the author put in from, for ex., English visitors to the palaces. A...priest or vicar, I think, had met one of the families when they'd gone to Europe, and later took up their invitation to come visit. This man absolutely rhapsodized about the country, how exotic and beautiful and wonderful it was. He'd been met by the Maharajah's private train which had, among other accoutrements, "solid silver door handles" and electric fans. (Oh, yes--one of the maharanis had two servants who took turns fanning her.) When the visitor and his host (not hostess) went out for a walk, six servants walked behind them, carrying everything they anticipated either of the men might need--including the maharajah's jeweled turban. When the two men went out horseback riding one morning, they came to the designated picnic spot, where a full meal was spread ready for them--plus a tent had been put up, with a bed in it, in case the maharajah wanted to nap after dining.
What I want to know is what the vicar's impression would have been had he been visiting one of the servants. What kind of life was it, for them, having to get all that stuff prepared and in place? Did they have to carry it all? If they used ox-carts, did they have to make sure to get that out of sight--and clean up any droppings--before the maharajah got there? Did they resent, ever, having to get things ready "just in case"--things which may or may not have proven to be needed? I mean, those people were just as real as their bosses--or should I say masters? Did they get paid a salary, I wonder? Some of the authors I've read seemed to want the reader to believe that this kind of service was provided out of sheer devotion--but I wonder. I wonder.
