“Knowledge is a seed that can take centuries to blossom.”
Call the Midwife
There’s nothing like Call the Midwife for a midweek evening, is there? In the first episode of series 3, the nuns and nurses of Nunatus House have moved into new premises after the somewhat explosive happenings of the Christmas special, and Chummy plans a grand Opening Ceremony for their new clinic.
It’s all very schmaltzy and British, full of iced buns and inexplicably clean carpets and exclamations of “bally”, with some safely sanitised poverty thrown in for good measure. The message of Call the Midwife is, you see, that if we all Pull Together then Life Will, in some indefinable but concrete way, Be Better. The insufferable newcomer becomes the driving force for a New Path in Life, and even degenerative illness gets a positive spin. Call the Midwife is like a rose-tinting juggernaut: there is absolutely nothing it cannot deal with, make sentimental and sweet and full of cake and high tea.
And you know what? I quite like it that way. Not every day, obviously, and not in every story. But occasionally, you need a dose of jolly old British sentiment, with lashings of ginger beer, of course.