As an American (or, for lack of better terms, a “vulgar Yankee”), I am guilty of most of these sins…prepare for the belittlement of your culture (in the most charming and witty way possible) upon this read. “Don’t:” treats politeness as a game…a game which may be fun to hop in and out of, as well as one which I am thankful to not be forced into playing. Although the owner of an extremely harsh tone, the author is surprisingly forgiving and respectful of: the lower class, servants, children, and most blunders. He accepts that we’re not going to get it right every time (and that some of us may get it right none of the time), and seems only to wish that we have an understanding of what is polite, and what is rude! A handful of gems (that I will not be obeying, as the Yankee I am):
Don’t have the habit of smiling or “grinning” at nothing. Smile or laugh when there is occasion to do either, but other times keep your mouth shut and your manner composed. People who laugh at everything are commonly capable of nothing.
Don’t wear dressing-gown and slippers anywhere out of your bedroom. To appear at table or in any company in this garb is the very soul of vulgarity. It is equally vulgar to sit at table or appear in company in one’s shirt sleeves.
Don’t use meaningless exclamations, such as “Oh, my!” “Oh, crackey!” etc.
Don’t respond to a remark with a prolonged exclamatory and interrogative ye-es. This is a rank Yankeeism.
I love little curios like this, very fun to have on the shelf and fun to read too. There are a few rules in here - like being courteous in the cinema and mindful of other pedestrians - that I wish I could print out and give to everyone in the country!
While my companion was trying on dresses in St Peter's Hospice this afternoon, I wandered over to the book section to see if anyone had left anything weird and wonderful. And they had.
This is a brilliant little book, which according to the spine is called Don't: a manual of mistakes, or on the front cover: Don't: mistakes and improprieties more or less prevalent in conduct and speech, the inside cover dubs it slightly more concisely as just Don't, while last but not least the title page claims the work is called Don't: a little book dealing frankly with mistakes & improprieties more or less common to all. Whichever title you choose, the gist is the same. This is an expanded edition of a book from 1884 that, through the medium of a long list of sentences starting "Don't", explains how to be a proper gentleman or lady.
Some of them are fairly standard such as "Don't masticate your food with your mouth open" while others might be standard except for the delightfully quaint Victorian turn of phrase, as in, from the "For Women" chapter, "Don't ever disparage your hostess's hospitality by appearing at any function in a toilet which might suggest that you do not consider the occasion worthy of your choicest attire."
The "expanded" part is a handful of chapters tacked onto the end of the book explaining how a Victorian gentleman acts while playing tennis ("Don't make audible comments disparaging other folk's play, it is very bad form"), while walking ("Don't walk more than three abreast"), while flying ("Don't mind occasional little ups and downs in flight. The pilot does not, so why should you?"), and when going on a cruise ("Don't, when packing, overlook your hot-water bottle, aspirin tablets, brandy flask, and field glasses").
There's a nice, dry English wit to the whole thing and while many of the sentiments are hopelessly outdated there's still enough in here to make me suspect I'll be a slightly better gentleman for the next few days.
This book is hilarious on several levels. It was originally written in England in 1880, so you can imagine what improprieties and mistakes were prevalent then and there. Some of the stuff is horribly dated, but other stuff is even funnier because it can still apply now. I imagine the author was a bitter middle-aged guy who had no friends and had been shot down by more than a few ladies, as he obviously could not have cared less about who he insulted in this book. Then again, maybe he was a Victorian-age version of The Onion, and this was all tongue in cheek.
This is a great etiquette manual from 1888. Very stuffy, very precise. Particularly interesting because it tells one what NOT to do. That is, it was meant as a corrective measure for what the author ("Censor") considered to be the degraded manners of the day. Stuff like not wandering out of your boudoir in your shirtsleeves. There are reprints from 1982 readily available.