Modern Manners

My 1960s Canadian etiquette book indicates that I should feel confident eating asparagus spears with my fingers. Is this really so? Where is the line of good taste drawn - could you see a spear being used as an extension of the hand during a lively dinner discussion? Lesley Soper, Ottawa, Canada

Asparagus is one of the foods that it is “correct” to eat with one’s fingers, and difficult (absurd) to attempt to eat with an eating iron. Others include artichokes, oysters, mussels and other shellfish, an orange (unless you are remarkably dextrous), and, some might say, lamb chops and snipe’s legs. These are the messy hazards of the dining table for which finger bowls were invented. If in doubt, observe how your host(ess) tackles the lobster leg, and follow her lead. Customs vary between countries, regions, tribes and families. The sensible and polite eater conforms to the table manners of his companions. But to try to eat asparagus with knife and fork would be grotesquely Hyacinth Bucket genteelism - as well as dangerously messy with splashing molten butter over self and neighbours.

Ascetic Saint Antony, patron saint of dogs and other domestic animals. What a doggy Catch-22. It is insensitive of father-in-law not to notice your aversion to his dogs. And their aversion to you. Dogs can sense the doggies and non-doggies by some queer canine osmosis. Dashed tricky. I fear that this is a case where one’s duty to one’s parents-in-law trumps one’s distaste for their badly behaved mutts. (This is only my opinion: others would judge otherwise.) Could you not persuade your wife to approach her father, with infinite daughterly tact, about his bouncing Jack Russells (or are they poodles or chihuahuas?)? Do you have a garden where they could let rip? Or the kitchen? I can see that these may not be very helpful suggestions. But then I live with Jack Russells, though I suspect that by nature I am an ailurophile rather than a kyonophile. But for most people I am sure that being friends with one’s in-laws matters more than having to put up with vexation from badly behaved hounds. Invest in bones from the butcher. Buy the brutes off with cupboard love.

Could you please offer some guidance about the clinking of glasses during a toast? I find it rather naff and Charlie when guests insist on getting up from the table to clink glasses with someone at the opposite end. Also, on a couple of notable occasions, I have seen drink-induced enthusiasm lead to breakages. I don’t wish to appear stuffy, but I prefer to raise my glass to whoever delivered the toast, and give them a warm “Cheers!” instead. Am I being a killjoy? O. B., London

No, I don’t think that you are being a killjoy. Perhaps just a bit fastidious. The custom of clinking glasses is a class indicator. It is obligatory in the saloon bar. It is bad manners at a state banquet. And the custom varies tribally. Foreigners, such as my dear Swiss aunt, believe that it is the pinnacle of English manners to clink glasses and declaim, “Cheers!” before drinking a health or a toast. She is correct in some company. I think that the Beau Brummell of the drinking party confirms cheerfully to the manners of his companions. If they clink, clink away with them. It would be snooty to refuse. Clink with a smile, and, if possible, without breaking your glass. Good manners often consist of behaving in the same way as your companions. Though, of course, this depends a bit on your companions not being cannibals or binge drinkers.

A tricky one for you: a good friend has tried to commit suicide. After two weeks in a clinic, he is now out. How should we behave? Should we act as if nothing has happenned? In a week, it is his birthday. Should we call him to wish happy birthday, or would it be considered black humour? Name and address withheld

This is a good friend. You should show him generosity and friendship. I should leave it to him to raise the subject of his visit to the clinic. Who knows what despair or grief drove him to try to take his life? Are we even sure of the facts? And without knowing more of the characters involved, nobody could venture on a precise algorithmic solution. But I should welcome him back warmly, be assiduous in visiting him, let him talk if he wants to, and, of course, wish him and give him a happy birthday. That is how I would want my friends to behave. Leave it to him to talk if he wants to. Do not pry. He may be ashamed and embarrassed. All we can do is act as warm, objective, and forward-looking friends.

My next-door neighbour frequently has parties at her house and - although on the surface we are on friendly terms - for some reason she never invites me (although I know other neighbours who have been invited). I am having a little do at my place in a few weeks time, would it be churlish not to invite her? I really don’t see why I should. A. P., Surrey

There is absolutely no reason why should invite your inhospitable neighbour, apart from setting a good example in neighbourly amity and generosity. But these are social virtues worth cultivating. We should strive to be on friendly terms with out next-door neighbours, however strange, curmudgeonly or unfriendly their behaviour. It is a virtue. It makes life easier. We were not sent into this world entirely for pleasure. But we must make the best of it we can. It would not be churlish not to invite the next-door neighbours. But (without knowing her or you) I judge that it would be generous, friendly, and politic to invite her to your party, provided that you have room. We give hospitality out of generosity, not in the expectation or hope of any reciprocal return.

A friend is planning marrage for a second time this summer. Sadly, this new man has been a closet alcoholic for many years. When my friend found out that he had been caught drink driving, she broke it off but then re-engaged after he did a stint in rehab. Another friend of mine has confided that this man recently said that he would like to get drunk two times a week after he gets married (he thought this would be a fair compromise considering...). Of course, he hasn’t told his fiancee. I feel our friend needs to be told about this asap - don’t we owe it to her to go in with eyes wide open? I know I would want to know. T. L., Maine, USA

I dare say that I would want to be told too. But can we be sure that your friend would want to be told? And are we sure of our facts? Gossip sticks to the drinking habits of others like barnacles to a boat’s bottom. I would tread extremely cautiously into this quagmire. None of us is without vices, sins and unattractive habits, except for you and me, and I sometimes wonder about me. None of us is grateful for being told about the vices of the person we intend to marry. You are right to be concerned about your friend. But I should leave the discussion of her fiance’s character to her to raise. She must know about it already. You can indicate your doubts by letting indirections find directions out. And you must stick by her as a good friend through thick and thin. She needs you.

This is a really unusual and serious matter of etiquette requiring your advice. I have a great friend who lives in a large village in East Anglia. It is a very friendly place and a large group of friends there enjoy free time, drink, make merry and even go on holiday together they all get on so well. They are not cliquey and I can testify to this because as a visitor they make me feel part of the group. A lady in the village has seemingly become jealous of their group and the focus of the jealousy is my friend. She has begun spreading unpleasant and untrue rumours around and mutters under her breath about my friend the whole time in the pub, even in front of her. I have advised her she must not react and even be pleasant and charming to her and ignore her behaviour as village disputes can get out of hand. What should she do? Helen Barnes, London

Well, I enthusiastically support your wise advice to your friend. Nothing is more irritating for malicious gossips than to have their spite ignored. The bitches bark, but the caravan moves on. If the back-biting becomes slanderous, somebody may need to have words with the lady. But it would be better for the tranquillity of the village if we could get by without that. Who knows what unhappiness, bitterness or other demons torment the bad-mouthing gossip? But I should tell your friend to bend over backwards to be polite and amiable towards her. Count your blessings to have such a good group of friends. Enjoy your life together. Rumoresque senum severiorum, Omnes unius aestimemus assis - Count the gossip of grumpy old persons as not worth a single copper penny. Get on with the game of living, and ignore sour comments from jealous non-players on the touchline.

I am a senior-year student at my university, and am set to graduate this May. It is customary to send friends and family members “invitations” to the ceremony, though in reality, these are tantamount to soliciting monetary graduation “gifts.” I am not comfortable sending out these invitations because I do not want people to send me their obligatory (albeit well-intentioned) congratulatory gift - but at the same time, I would love for them to attend the actual event. While not sending invitations would disappoint my parents (they are proud of my accomplishments), to send them would make me feel like a beggar trying to get my piece. Is there any way to invite friends and family, but not money? Peter Tschirhart, Houston, Texas

Autocratic Archons of Athens! We neither received nor expected graduation gifts of money or anything else at my university. But since the UK follows in the steps of Texas and the rest of the USA, I dare say that we shall be doing so soon. The graduation gift seems a friendly gesture. Your modesty does you credit. Surely there cannot be that many family and friends whom you want to invite to your graduation ceremony? Not coachloads? There would not be room even in the grandest Houston hall. You could invite them by word of mouth rather than with a printed invitation. But when in Rome, do as Rome does. Ditto applies to Houston. If it is the custom, I dare say that you should go along with it. If your family and friends wish to be generous, it is mildly ungenerous to deprive them of their pleasure. You could ring round and say, “Please, please, no presents, really, Aunty Mabel.” Or you could even have the request printed, in modest print, on the bottom of your invitation, if you decide to send one. Part of graduating into the great game of life is to learn how to accept generosity from one’s friends gracefully and gratefully, whatever one’s private feelings. We have it on good authority that to give is more blessed than to receive. Some of us find it hard to accept because of pride or native modesty. Congratulations on graduating, young man. Go on to set an example to the rest of us in generosity, brightness and modesty.

It has been said that “good manners will open doors that the best education cannot,” but do you feel that “manners are especially the need of the plain - the pretty can get away with anything?” Ian Dowdall, Nottingham

I don’t think that there is any correlation between good manners and beauty or prettiness. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. It is a physical attribute, which is rated differently by different societies, classes and ages. Judicious folk find the steatopygous and Rubenesque beautiful. Others prefer the skeletal and grotesque stick insects of the catwalk. Some of the rudest people I know have been considered pretty. They include many of the fashion stick insects. Some uglies have beautiful manners. Good manners are a social virtue that needs constantly to be worked at and polished. They consist of treating others as we should like to be treated ourselves - the Golden Rule. We behave kindly to other human beings because they are human, and because that is the decent thing to do. The pretty may get away with anything, among those who are dazzled by good looks. But I reckon that they need good manners even more than us uglies. Just as the Roman Emperor, riding in his triumph, needed a slave beside him reminding him: “Remember, you are only a human.” Prettiness is a passing fashion. Good manners are a humane virtue that endures, both for the ugly and the pretty, and the in-betweens.