Pas Devant Les Domestiques

I was recently struck by just how invisible a well-trained servant truly is.

I'm sure that we are all aware that, yes, the maid dusting the bookshelf has a perfectly functional pair of ears and yet some of us seem to ignore that little factoid when carrying on conversations, doing homework and - the real kicker - having a real throw-down, knock-out argument.

What this says about us as a sentient species which claims that it is the 'higher' processes of compassion and understanding, among others, that set us apart from animals, I don't quite know. Of course, personally, I have always maintained that the only real difference between us and other predators is that animals have no concept of cruelty, a most highly developed process in humans. Oh, and we wear clothes.

That aside, the fact that we can so dehumanize a person that their presence, while noted, is not truly acknowledged, is rather . . . capable of restoring my faith in the universe. Ha! Take that, you naive fools waffling on about the innate "milk of human kindness"! I knew we were a set of callous,  self-involved backstabbers.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is class discrimination at its most subtle, most ingrained, most unconscious. In short, at its finest.

Tangentially, the situation that led to this line of thought also raised another issue.
To make sense, however, I must recap:

•  A certain lady (let us call her Mrs. X) has, shall we say, a rather eventful household, full of interesting dialogue and drama.
• A certain maid (let us call her Y) has worked for Mrs. X for a while and, as such, has been privy to the little intrigues of Mrs. X's life, Mrs. X being prone to the above-mentioned common habit of becoming oblivious to one servants at times.
• Y has picked up a nasty habit: when answering the phone, if the caller is one recognized by Y as an associate of her employer, Y promptly begins to tattle and, to be frank, bitch.
• Result: horror, disgust, disapproval, etc. (On the part of callers, naturally.)

What I found interesting was that last bit. (This is not to say I didn't experience the same when my mother told me; I make no ludicrous pretensions to moral superiority.)
Why, though? Why that instinctive recoil at such behaviour? Was it truly all that shocking?

To put it another way, would we feel so repulsed if it were Mrs. X's friend, sibling or child (though I would hope they have better taste than to do so) doing the gossiping? No, of course not. We'd gasp in malicious enjoyment and say, "Really?! And then what happened?"

Oh, certainly, one might, if probed, come up with a few logical reasons for this: if Y were so dissatisfied with Mrs. X, she should seek employment elsewhere, instead of being such a nasty so-and-so; it is unethical to badmouth the household you are part of (in a way), and so on.

However, during that split-second interval between hearing the chatter and responding to it, there simply isn't time for all that to go through your head. The instinctive, knee-jerk reaction is due to Y, 'one of them', acting against 'one of us', however despised. Again, discrimination at its finest. The next reaction is "Damn, I hope Y's the only one". The same action, perfectly acceptable when committed by an equal, is instantly unpalatable when performed by one seen as inferior.

Therefore, the moral of the story is that, if you must fight (and of course you must, it's such delightful fun!), gossip or engage in other reprehensible behaviour, don't do it front of the servants. They turn around and do the same.

Seriously, though, it is a bit disappointing, even to bitter little cynics like myself, how ingrained certain prejudices seem to be. Also, the tangent I mentioned earlier: it is rather funny to see  how we appear to automatically close ranks about those we perceive as either equals or like ourselves. The caveat is that this only occurs when the 'attacker' is not from amongst us; if they were, we'd still close ranks, but we'd turn around in that metaphorical circle and watch with glee as the situation escalated.

~*~*~

Now, that being done, I shall proceed to thoroughly enjoy the remainder of the first day this week without a midterm.

*Runs off screaming about hiring an axe murderer to go after the room-mates*

It's the principle of the thing, you know?