I am recently reading the remains of the day by Ishiguro.

It is a good read so far. But what struck me was how the butler assume that the greatest butler, would be that of dignity.

Dignity, if I did not read him wrongly, comprises the quiet pride to discharge the duties, even in quiet sufferance. I was woed by how the butler allowed his father's demise to pass him by, while he busied himself to serving the partrons of the party. At the same time, I felt touched when he told the maid not to think lightly of him, for his father would have wanted him to do so.

I was set to thinking if this dignity should rightly define all profession. To be someone great, it involves sacriface of some sort. I could think of any number of people who made that sacriface. Perhaps, it is the dignity in the sacriface that makes him professional.

I am currently trailing on where the butlers thought will take him with the maid...