Sink or swim?

Have I commented on the dearth of costume dramas lately? I have, haven't I? But I shouldn't complain too much - the Beeb did make a second series of the new Upstairs, Downstairs, in spite of the dire predictions of just about everyone (including me), and once it's out on DVD, that will make a few evenings' viewing (and probably a blog post) at least. As for ITV, it has dished up another Julian Fellowes-scripted drama, which Swedish TV has kindly imported: the Titanic.

The problem is, in costume drama terms, I don't think the 20th century quite counts. I never cared much for 20th-century history, and as for epic novels that make good TV series, they were out of fashion by then. Still, I suppose the years before the First World War (before it started to become depressing) just about pass muster. The story about the Titanic is depressing enough, though, and I can't quite see why people are so obsessed with it.

Yes, there is something of a Greek Tragedy feel about a ship which is touted as unsinkable and which then sinks. Yes, it was vast and the tragedy the greater for it. Yes, there were some celebrities on board and doubtless there are many human interest angles. For example, I caught a snippet of a documentary which revealed that one of the main reasons the ship line's owner Ismay was so vilified was that the newspaper mogul Randolph Hearst couldn't stand him. That did fascinate me, and I am now hoping Fellowes will furnish poor Ismay with a perfectly reasonable excuse for the lifeboat seat incident. And one wonders, like Rose in the original Upstairs Downstairs how a "big ship could go down like that... just by hitting a little iceberg" (admittedly, no iceberg is ever "little").

And yet, I don't understand how one can become nerdy about the Titanic. The interest in the minutiae of the ship's construction, the voyage and the disaster itself; the crude class analyses; the polemic, moralising tone and the hunt for scapegoats... these things are so often part and parcel of the Titanic lore, and it's frankly off-putting. A ship sank and people died: this is the simple truth. If people hadn't died, naturally, no-one would be interested. There is a great deal of ghoulishness connected with our obsession with certain historical events (I'm no innocent myself in this regard: of course The Reign of Terror is the most exciting part of The French Revolution). Fine, but please don't let us be sanctimonious ghouls. We weren't there. Human nature is never perfect, especially not in a crisis like a shipwreck, and of course there will be mistakes and undignified scrambles for survival at whatever cost. I know I would behave appallingly and not care a whit about what Hearst or anyone else had to say about it afterwards.

In the end, stories focusing on the Titanic risk becoming little else than disaster movies in fancy dress where we are supposed to be kept guessing who will sink and who will swim. But costume drama beggars can't be choosers, and Fellowes is a reliable yarn-spinner, so I will watch the Titanic TV series in spite of my misgivings. The first episode seemed sketchy, but judging from reviews the series gets better as the bigger picture is filled in later on. The aristocratic family who were the centre of episode one didn't exactly float my boat (sorry), but the tenacious rich youngster from Philadelphia who wooed the daughter seemed a nice chap, and I wonder what will happen to the valet who clumsily tried to catch the attention of a lady's maid and made a mess of it. Guggenheim's stoic waiting for death in the bar was memorable, and so was the other bar guest: Mr Andrews, one of the builders of the ship, who didn't say a word and made no attempt to save himself. You understood exactly why.