Sunday, August 16, 2015

Blessed with such Happy Manners...

My apologies for not posting sooner. I'm making up for it by posting something that is probably too long.

Regency-era England holds a strong fascination for modern readers, including me. Whenever I open a novel written by Jane Austen, I can be sure of getting a peek into a culture vastly different from my own. I might share the same native language as characters like Emma Woodhouse and Elizabeth Bennet, but it seems as if cultural similarities stop there.
 
One of the main ways I arrive at this sense of estrangement is the code of manners followed by characters in the book. Austen’s writing style clearly indicates that she assumed her readers were familiar with the social expectations that governed the manners and interactions of her characters.

There are few detailed explanations of why certain characters are admired or chastised for certain expressions. Every once in a while, the reader will get a freebie from Austen about the inappropriateness of a comment (“I might as well inquire why with so evident a design of offending and insulting me you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, even against your character” –  Pride and Prejudice). However, these miniature explanations, revealed only in character dialogue, are few and far between.

It takes a while to become accustomed to this alien mode of existence. But, I have to admit, there are days when I wish we still lived in a society where people followed a detailed and rigid code of etiquette. Most Americans and residents of the “it’s all about me” culture probably chafe at this suggestion, but I can pick out some perks to having a well-defined system of manners.

Perk #1: Manners promote society-building values

It seems to me that at some level, every code of behavior buys into two basic ideas: interactions with others matter and there is a proper way of conducting those interactions.

I think most people would agree that these two assumptions are correct, and on some level, I believe most people try to live out these ideas. Most try to be kind to others – or at least not rude. However, in a society that appears ever more fractured and, at times, hostile, these vaguely-guided attempts at civility are not likely to make social encounters any smoother.

Regency-era etiquette provided a framework in which even the most distant acquaintances could treat each other with civility, at least as far as the Austen novels reveal. There were proper and improper ways to act, and proper and improper times during which to act offended.

Perk #2: Manners allow one to interact politely with EVERYONE

What would happen if Lizzy Bennet and her family desired to speak to a certain rich young bachelor, but had never met him before? They could turn to the Lucas family for an introduction to the eligible Mr. Bingley.

What if Lizzy met Miss Bingley as a fellow guest in a party, but suspected the woman had dissuade her brother Mr. Bingley from pursuing the admirable Jane Bennet? Even though the two had grounds to dislike each other, they could still interact civilly and prevent the ruination of a social event.

From these two situations in Pride and Prejudice, one sees that etiquette applies as well to strangers as to acquaintances – even acquaintances who might not be on the best of terms.

Whether an interaction plays out between bosom friends, distant relations, friends of friends, or sweethearts, there was a way to mingle with them and mingle POLITELY.

I think it is much harder to play off awkward situations in today’s world, which is sadly lacking in detailed codes of manners, than it was in Jane Austen’s time. Good manners might not have removed the discomfort of a given meeting, but it might have prevented an interaction from going completely downhill.

Perk #3: There were rules to playing the game of love

 
All of Austen’s novels focus on a heroine finding love, so the manners displayed in the books deal in large part with how courtships unfold.

The characters of Austen’s books recognized the necessity of guarding against unwise interactions. Though not strictly considered good or bad manners, there were proper ways for young women and men to get to know each other. The results of pursuing relationships in a socially atypical way had it consequences.

One such example may be observed in Sense and Sensibility, in which Marianne is crushed by the knowledge that Mr. Willoughby has engaged himself to another woman. When Marianne’s sister Elinor probes her on the subject, she finds that Marianne’s relationship with the man has been complicated by the fact that there was a lack of typical expressions and understandings.

"Much as you suffer now, think of what you would have suffered if the discovery of his character had been delayed to a later period—if your engagement had been carried on for months and months, as it might have been,k before he chose to put an end to it. Every additional day of unhappy confidence, on your side, would have made the blow more dreadful."

"Engagement!" cried Marianne, “there has been no engagement.”

"No engagement?"

"No, he is not so unworthy as you believe him. He has broken no faith with me."

"But he told you that he loved you?"

"Yes—no—never absolutely. It was every day implied, but never professedly declared. Sometimes I thought it had been—but it never was." (pp.171-2)

Marianne’s actions had led her sister to assume that she and Willoughby had been engaged. However, by disregarding social norms for courtships and refusing to confide in her family, Marianne ended up with a case of severe heartbreak.

Such misadventures have lessons to teach to those who are trying to find their own loves today. The over-sharer, the noncommittal man, and the matchmaker - to name just a few - might learn quite a bit from the failings of Austen’s characters.

Perk #4: There WERE rules, and they were generally known

One of the nice aspects of having a detailed set of rules was that there WAS a set of rules. If a person found himself or herself in unusual circumstances, there were likely rules pertaining to that specific situation. I can only conclude there must have been fewer instances of “I’m going to say this and I hope it’s the right thing…” in Regency England.

Going along with that is that fact that everyone seemed to know these rules. This impression comes strictly from reading Austen’s novels, so I know I’m sharing a very limited view…but it does seem like everyone in her works knows what’s going on when it comes to manners.

Perk #5: People were able to appreciate good manners


Ever heard the saying “it takes one to know one”? That can be said of manners. Austen’s characters were able to acknowledge the fact that some people have good manners. On the flip side, this also unfortunately led to a lot of gossipy judgment behind closed doors.
 
We lack an appreciation for good manners today since it’s difficult to tell what exactly they are supposed to look like. We know that good handshakes are important…but what else do we know and recognize?

Manners are a big deal since they are instrumental in making impressions. Want people to like you? Nowadays, have a firm handshake, say please and thank you, and don’t hog the conversation. Back in the day, if you were a dude, you had to follow all of the rules of etiquette, including dancing with young ladies when you go to a ball.

Speaking of which…

Perk #6: Men were expected to dance

 
It was considered bad manners for a man to attend a ball and not dance with anyone in the event that gentlemen are scarce and more than one young lady was lacking a partner (cough cough Mr. Darcy).

I wish this were still the case today. Too often, I and my friends attend dances and hardly ever get asked to take a turn on the dance floor with a gent. Can’t we at least establish an expectation that if people are going to attend a dance or go to a dance hall, they should be willing to dance?

Friday, August 7, 2015

Fury

I have just seen the movie Fury, and I want to record my reaction while it's still fresh in my mind.

*WARNING: May contain minor spoilers*

This movie interested me for a couple of reasons: 1. a movie about WWII tank battalions has never really been done before, and 2. my grandfather was a member of the 601st Tank Destroyer Battalion, receiving both a purple heart and a bronze star for his service.

My first reaction upon the denouement of Fury was thinking how it presents the sheer irony of war. Watching this movie feels the way reading an Ernest Hemingway novel feels, if that makes any sense. I'm thinking of The Sun Also Rises in particular. You are told to go against what you believe in and commit great sins--murder of fellow human beings among them--for a just cause: the defense of human life. You are made to feel emasculated if you do not spit upon your enemies and curse them--and yet, to them, YOU are the enemy. You are assured by superiors that you are doing the right thing, when every instinct of conscience screams the opposite.

At several points in the movie, the characters will quote bits of Scripture in an effort to convince themselves that God is on their side and what they are doing is justified. It is incredibly apparent that if they do not succeed in convincing themselves of this, they will not be able to go on. On one occasion someone asks, "Hey, do you think God loves Hitler?" It is said as a joke, but one with an underlying earnestness. The subtext asks what they dare not say: if God really does love Hitler, and God's supposed to love us too, then what are we doing here? How can this possibly be right?

Perhaps the greatest irony of all comes at the end of the film, when the youngest member of the tank, really no more than a boy, is the sole survivor of what is essentially a massacre. He is told to go through the bottom hatch of the tank and hide underneath by the last dying member of his tanker, which he does. He is discovered by an equally young German soldier, who does not shoot him. The following morning, he climbs back into the tank to lay his jacket over his dead friend's face. He is discovered by another American battalion. As the medics lead him away to a truck, one says, "Hey kid, you're a hero! You know that?" You can see the irony written all over the young man's face. He doesn't think he's a hero. He didn't stay inside to die with his companions. He hid. The survivor's guilt is overwhelming as he sits there thinking how he should have just kept shooting at the Germans until they killed him, too. The real heroes were those men who died in the tank, who were left behind.

Movies like this also help us, perhaps, to have an inkling of what a soldier might feel upon returning from war. Everyday life must seem so trivial to them, so difficult to reconcile with the horror they've endured. They have witnessed the truly awful things human beings can do to one another.

Please, pray for our troops. Pray that they do not lose hope or faith. Pray that they may continue to find the strength to show their fellow human beings mercy and love, even in the darkest of places.