Natasha Richardson and "The White Countess"

I will always remember Natasha Richardson in the James Ivory film “The White Countess”, based on the screenplay by Kazuo Ishiguro, who is perhaps most famous for his novel “Remains of the Day”. Portrayed as a destitute former Russian aristocrat reduced to work in a night club to support her family in exile in Shanghai in the 1930s, Natasha Richardson was positively convincing in conveying a sense of regal beauty humiliated by poverty in exile. Her in-laws, who were also former Russian aristocrats somehow could not wake up to the fact that they were no longer a privileged class, were so heartless as to abandon her when they finally had a way to leave Shanghai for Hong Kong. Natasha Richardson’s mother, Vanessa Redgrave, played one such relative in the movie. Although they lived in abject poverty in Shanghai, they would not stop talking about the good old days back in Russia, when they carried lofty titles, had numerous servants, played the piano, and went to ballet. To some extent, they were like the forlorn Southern plantation owners who lost everything in the Civil War, and yet could not accept that life was forever changed for them.

The tragic and untimely death of Natasha Richardson reminded me of this movie again. She herself was from an acting dynasty, and she did continue the family tradition of acting. However, she had always given people the impression that while artistic and intelligent, she was not so full of herself. She made a smooth transition from a “legacy child” to a true working actress. An accomplished cook, she was known to host great dinner parties at home, besides raising her two sons and maintaining an active acting career. Her husband Liam Neeson was from a working class background in Northern Ireland. She was refined, but also down-to-earth. In a nutshell, she was genuine “royalty” but never carried herself like one.

I often find myself with a very bad habit – a habit of attributing my behavioral tendency (especially the bad ones) to my own family. When I watched “The White Countess”, I could not help thinking about my grandparents. I do regret not learning more about their lives when they were still alive. Now that they are gone, I find that my memories of them always give me a sense that I have something to live up to. Both of them came from very privileged families at the beginning of last century, and they both went to Europe for their education. Their families and acquaintances consist of many famous names in politics, economics, science and literature. Perhaps they were the last generation of aristocrats before the Communists took over in 1949. My grandparents themselves were pure university academics. The limited memories I have of them are full of their references to their days abroad in Europe, their friends and colleagues who were inevitably intellectuals, them listening to operas on vinyl records , my grandmother smoking a Moore cigarette and drinking brandy, and my grandfather reading some books in some foreign language. – I felt like a completely awkward, uneducated and unrefined village girl, every time I went to my grandparents’ place. My mother raised my sister and me by herself, whereas my grandmother had nannies to raise all her kids back in her time. I always found my grandmother a bit intimidating and disapproving of me. By then, my grandparents lost most of their wealth already, but I still felt that somehow I did not belong to this family, for I possessed none of the skills and traits of this intelligentsia class. Chinese intelligentsia back then were like the Russian aristocrats in the sense that they would never talk about money, or the importance of money, despite having lost almost all of their money. They would have loved to get the old life back, but they would not stoop so low as to go actively after money in some “lowly pursuit”. – That is the snobbery I have inherited. I even wrote in the acknowledgement section of my PhD thesis that I hoped to live up to the expectations of my ancestors, which I certainly have not, since I eventually left science. – how ironic! I would occasionally find myself thinking about whether I would meet the approval of my grandparents or not, even though there is no way that they would know or care!

It must be that sentimental nostalgia that I have inherited, against my better judgment!