selenak

Still frightfully busy, still briefly online, couldn't watch the latest Midwives until now.

Shame, fear and the damage they can do were a red thread. Not exclusively but specifically: "A shame that started at sixteen/And spread to everything". At first when Mrs. Walker was horrified at her daughter attending what passes for an 1963 sex education (or rather, not even that: just education in basic female biology) class and railed at our heroines, and Sister Julienne responded with some disapproval at their class as well, I thought we were in for education versus bigotry confrontation tale. But this show with its emphasis on compassion turned this particular plot thread into something else, as Valerie was determined to find out why Mrs. Walker was so obsessed with shouting "filth!" at her and so hysterical about her daughter's purity. It may be a tad optimistic to find the source of bigotry and fix it within the space of one episode, but you know, I still like it, especially since Mrs. Walker having been badly damaged herself in her childhood through, in turn, her mother and her mother's behaviour towards her sister Lily makes psychological and emotional sense to me. ("They fuck you up, your mum and dad, they may not mean to, but they do...") And I'd like to believe that every now and then, compassion will win the day: Mrs. Walker discovering what had truly become of her sister helps her daughter and said sister as well, though some damage is irreversable, of course: Lily will never get those years locked up back, nor her baby, nor Mrs. Walker years of fear of her own body and sexuality - but they found each other again, and it's not too late for her daughter.

The episode was good in showing layers, too; Lucille at first being embarrassed about having to talk about anatomy with teenagers (and about them using tampons, o tempora, oh mores) as well as Sister Julienne's instinctive dislike of change coming through after the first confrontation avoids the whole situation being as simple as "every right thinking person must immediately see sex education is a good thing, or else they're evil!" While at the same of course knowledge about your own body being quintessential isn't something the narrative itself disputes.

Sister Monica Joan's subplot is a lighter play on the themes of fear and shame, her embarrasment about the entire operation and fear of what it will mean to her mixing with her initial horror at being stuck with a noisy fellow patient so very different from herself. The two women coming to appreciate each other and the conclusion of Sister Monica Joan listening to bodice rippers (which Sister Winifred reads out lout with aplomp to her) now, not solely to Keats, was the kind of fun with, not at the characters that contributes to making the show enjoyable.

Meanwhile, Pearl the Irishwoman's plight (husband killed by car soon after their arrival, no friends at new place, pregnancy resulting in twins, fire burning shop and flat) was almost Hiob-like, but Fred, our heroines and heroes and the community came to the rescue. I must admit, I had a bad moment or two when Phyllis Crane was stuck in that flat after rescuing Pearl and her family, reasoning that surely, they wouldn't, but they didn't, Phyllis is safe. Otoh we end with a cliffhanger of Barbara being dangerously sick. Surely they wouldn't?