Relationship Spotlight: Tom Branson & Lady Sybil Crawley (Downton Abbey)

This isn’t a fascinating relationship, a narrative treat for viewers to ruminate over, but it’s a lovely one, and I’m fond of it.  It has some serious missteps – Sybil and Branson are particularly hurt by series 2’s time jumps, where  they seem to speak once every six months and have the same conversation in which Branson comes off as a jerk – but in the end, it’s a fine connection between two characters I like.  In light of Tom’s less-than-compelling entanglements of late, I thought I’d look back on better times.  Spoilers for Sybil-Branson plots ahead.  (Note – though he’s called Tom now, I’ll refer to him mainly as Branson, since that’s what the show uses for most of the pertinent storyline.)

From the start, it helps that both Sybil and Branson are engaging and rootable in their own right.  Sybil is so sweet and conscientious, and I like that she not only sees her privilege relative to those around her, but she actively tries to help others improve their situations.  Her efforts to help Gwen find a secretary job are a highlight of series 1, and I still wish we were able to see more of her nursing work during the war.  She doesn’t see inequality and just sigh about an unjust but immutable world – she rolls up her expensive sleeves and gets her hands dirty.  Branson, as a socialist in favor of Irish independence, is a bit notorious among the Downton staff, he’s not the typical image of a revolutionary out for blood.  He hates the system of unbalanced power that perpetuates his people’s subjugation, and he speaks against those who prop it up, but he doesn’t indiscriminately hate all members of the ruling class.  He judges individuals on their merits and ultimately wants change through demonstration and free speech, not violence. 

It’s impressive that, for a socially-verboten upstairs/downstairs romance, their relationship is built on friendship and shared interests.  It’s not an overwhelming onslaught of sexual desire that makes them fly in the face of society’s expectations and taste forbidden fruit.  Rather, they initially connect when Branson is driving the family somewhere and overhears evidence of Sybil’s interest in politics.  He later strikes up a discussion with her, giving her pamphlets on political topics and encouraging her independent streak.  I love that he watches outside the house when she models her new harem pants for her family.  It may not be love yet, but it’s clear he’s enchanted by this young woman who won’t simply accept the rules that are prescribed for her.

This is how they begin, by talking to and supporting one another.  Love comes slowly, with acknowledgment of the upheaval it requires.  Like I said, it squanders a good chunk of its potential in series 2; it seems at least 80% of their conversations there involve Branson wanting Sybil to run away with him and acting like she’s a snob when she points out that marrying him would likely mean saying goodbye to everything she’s known in her life to date.  However, the ship rights itself, and what little we see of them as a married couple stays true to the start of their relationship.  They look out for each other, they talk through their disagreements, and each loves the other at their best and worst.  Though it’s been interesting to explore Tom’s uncertain position at Downton since Sybil’s death, I definitely would have preferred more of their marriage than we got.  I won’t dwell on the sad ending, though.  Instead, I’ll leave you with another favorite Sybil/Branson moment of mine from series 1 – when Branson rushes into the garden party to tell Sybil that Gwen got the job she’s been trying for.  As their mutual excitement and happiness takes over, there’s a moment where both of them have entirely forgotten that they’re a chauffeur and an earl’s daughter.  I love that.