This month’s book offered me something of a lesson in not prejudging a book. Having arrived at the end of the month, and seeing the well-dressed lady on the cover, my first reaction was to think of period drama, and I was, perhaps, tempted to skim the story in an effort to hand it back quickly. Having read the book in little over a week, however, I am glad that I made the effort.

In one respect, Longbourn by Jo Baker is a period drama, but with a twist: it is told from the perspective of the servants. Indeed, the quote from the Guardian on the cover would seem to be accurate, in that it is also a re-imagining of Pride and prejudice. While this is a completely different story from the two Jane Austen themed books by Gill Hornby, it is nevertheless an interesting point of continuity.

The majority of the story is told from the point of view of Sarah, a servant in the Bennet household, and we learn of the characters and the work necessary to run a major household and sustain a sumptuous lifestyle before domestic appliances such as washing machines. While there is an important story to be told here, at first one might be forgiven for thinking that it might still be less interesting than Pride and prejudice: the servants might be unsung heroes, but no-one gets excited about laundry! Nothing could be further from the truth, and the reader sees all the same dances, at least in spirit, as in Pride and prejudice, but sees them from the other side.

Without a whole army of servants, it is unlikely that all of the lavish social occasions could have happened, especially when “the shoe roses will have to be got by proxy” (p. 162); got by Sarah, in the pouring rain, of course. This highlights that it is not just the lack of domestic appliances that created the work, but the lifestyles; the endless round of social engagements, not to mention, of course, the wildly impractical clothes. Indeed, looking at the lady on the cover, you can only wonder “they chose to wear that?”

To be fair, perhaps they didn’t actively choose such lifestyles. While I know better than to try to romanticise the role of the servants, I must confess that I would have found the lives of the ladies and gentlemen of that time to be remarkably boring. Ptolemy, Bingley’s manservant, doubtless understood this when he said “Beasts, they are, to be milked and fleeced, and made into bacon” (p. 183). When I was reviewing Gill Hornby’s book, Miss Austen, while sympathising with the misfortune of the unmarried ladies, I couldn’t help reflecting that, even so, marriage might not be such a unalloyed joy after all. To have that theme explored further in this present book, therefore, seems apposite with the Pride and prejudice theme.

While this demonstrates that a story told from the servants’ viewpoint can be compelling, this book is also much more than a ‘secret histories’, or ‘life below stairs’ type story. The romance between Sarah and Ptolemy provides some interest, but, as will be apparent from the third ‘volume’ it is the relationship with James which is the more significant. It is also this section which allows the author to offer insight into such recurring themes as love and happiness. James’ backstory confirmed much of what I had already guessed: that he had deserted from the army. Mrs. Hill’s vexation at his loss is explained by the understanding that he had never known love and cared little for what might happen to him.

While I hadn’t, however, guessed at Mrs. Hill’s background, I did find her a generally decent character, if an unhappy one. While I could share some of her cynicism: “Life was, Mrs. Hill had come to understand, a trial by endurance, which everybody, eventually, failed.” (p. 360), I was unconvinced by the idea of her seeking fulfilment through her work. Likewise, Sarah, when leaving her position at Pemberley, realised: “It was far better than can be expected. But it was not enough.” (p. 420). This remains relevant some two centuries later, and beyond the confines of domestic service, when even professionals are wondering about the increasingly circumscribed nature of their jobs.

Another theme which runs through this book, is that of the nature of freedom, or in many cases, the lack of it. Ptolemy had been a slave, James had been subject to military discipline, while the servants were answerable to their master and employer. When thinking to seek out Ptolemy in London, Sarah was painfully aware of the magnitude of that task, just as the Bennet’s were free to make such a journey in relative comfort. Perhaps this goes some way toward explaining James looking longingly at maps of Scotland, while also wondering whether that would be far enough to escape the attention of army officers.

Ultimately, it is also worthwhile wondering how much freedom was granted even to those higher up in the social hierarchy. The married ladies were subject to their husband’s wishes, and I certainly don’t envy them the task of hosting or attending all those social engagements. Finally, even the gentlemen were subject to tiresome social expectations, and in exercising their rights and privileges, surely had responsibilities too. Whether, or not, they took them seriously is, of course, another matter.

In conclusion this is a thoughtful and enjoyable book. While offering a different perspective on Pride and prejudice, from the servants’ viewpoint, it also explores themes around love, happiness and freedom. Despite some initial misgivings, I can highly recommend this book, and thank you for the opportunity to read something which I wouldn’t have picked up myself.