As an eldest daughter and sister I do relate to Mary in some ways, but I don't in others. I would never have been allowed to treat my next youngest sister the way Mary treated Edith, and my next younger sister would not have been permitted to sabotage me as Edith did to Mary.
Like Mary, I was bossy, and let's face it, still am. In my case, I was my mother's deputy, expected to keep the younger siblings in line, and it was my neck if they got into trouble. My next youngest sister and I were the children of our mother's first marriage,but our mother married again and began having children by our stepfather, putting my sister in the position as the first of the middle children (she would be followed by a brother-as the only male another privileged position-and three more sisters), and since our mother always saw me as her other self, she placed the responsibility of not only the siblings, but the major part of her hopes and dreams on me: my grades,manners, etc. had to be perfect, a symbol of my mother's expectations of me as role model to the younger sisters. Of course my sister rebelled, her means of directing attention on her, as was natural. I did my best to keep her out of trouble, with little success. We have had a lifelong mostly unspoken rivalry. It is ironic that in our latter years we have, due to my recent widowhood (my husband was also an eldest) and her loss of her apartment, ended up under the same roof. The expectations of the parents usually are placed on the eldest daughter. In Mary's case, that responsibility was to marry well, to save the family, which would have been impoverished by the entail. The family with only daughters would have lost the estate if Mary and Matthew hadn't fallen in love, married, and produced a son who would inherit the estate eventually which in the meantime would be overseen by Mary. The parents' consideration of her above the other two was understandable. With the economic failure of the estate and the loss of Cora's money that had been plowed into it, and which before Matthew's arrival was a distinct possibility, the family would have been much reduced in circumstances if Lord Grantham had died. Mary's marrying rich was their only hope of that not happening. All of the girls probably had money settled on them, and perhaps Cora had a jointure, but circumstances would still have been much reduced.So, Mary was pampered and cossetted, given the best that could be afforded to attract that favorable marriage. It is natural that she should be so self-involved, and being the eldest, usually the child of young love, does in most instances breed a sense of superiority in that eldest.
In my case,the responsibility was to be a role model, to rescue the younger ones from their consequences, to be there for our parents in old age, to be at their deathbeds as well as to be there for the two baby sisters who died, one in her teens and one in her thirties. I am the repository of family memory, and sorrows, and sometimes that feels so heavy, but I wouldn't be me if I let them recede into the past. There are things that unite my sister and me in old age. We both loved the younger ones unconditionally, just as Mary and Edith are united at least in love and sorrow over Sybil, and as Edith says when Mary asks her why she has come to her wedding to Henry after she has (as thought at that time) sabotaged Edith's chance at a first wedding, that in time they will be the only ones who will remember their parents, their sister, the servants, and even the house, that they are in the end, sisters. I really related to that.
It is ironic, that in the end Mary, freed by her first marriage and the child that issued from it, from needing to marry well, marries down, while Edith, the neglected middle child who was never under that kind of obligation, marries up.
I could be a morning person if morning happened at noon.
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