Grief, Memory, Three O'clock in the Morning: My Mavis Gallant Centennial Diary, 18
Apologies for Delay in Writing
May 4, 3.15 a.m.
Today is flip day at the store. It sounds more gymnastic than it is. It means that one sale has ended and a new one is beginning. I never knew before I started my present work that so many shoppers are actively attuned to these barometric shifts, wait for them to come along, mark them on their calendars along with Good Friday and colonoscopy appointments. Before the doors open and the thrifty public descends, the tags for the sale from which the wind has faded need to be removed and the tags for the sale that launches at 8 need to be affixed. It’s a tricky business, high pressure. It’s all hands on deck, an earlier than usual start, so today’s diary entry is even more aberrant than usual. Which is saying something.
Millicent Fenwick, above, 1910 - 1992, was an accomplished American, a four term Republican congress woman, then a high ranking diplomat, and an advocate for prison reform: someone who never put forward a wrong foot, and even if it looked like a misstep it was deliberate and properly taken. Milly was exactly the sort of person to whom Vogue might turn — as they did — when it came time, in 1948, to put out a revised edition of the magazine’s Book of Etiquette. This was exactly what the nation needed as the war dust settled. I’m the proud possessor of this hefty volume, 650 pages, and it is a trove of good advice for everyday and extraordinary occasions.
I know Mavis Gallant (MG) referred to it, perhaps with some irony, and the reason I’m the keeper of this intelligence will be touched upon tomorrow, all going according to plan. What follows is an amuse-bouche, a found poem cobbled together from index entries, starting with the A’s and moving forward in a linear fashion that would usually be anathema to my purposes here — fanboy that I am of the circular — but is an efficient use of time and, well, you know — flip day. Tick tock, tick tock. Most have been lifted wholesale, some have been slightly rearranged for effect: a breach of good manners, for sure. Oddly, the index peters out with the Y’s, there being no call in 1948 for know-how on where to seat a zebra when the Albanian Ambassador comes for a formal dinner. As you read this, if you read this, pause, sip your coffee and know that I am flipping, but with my pinky finger extended, comme il faut.
Comme Il Faut: A Vogue Book of Etiquette ABC
apologies for delay in writing
accepting White House invitations.
Apostolic Delegates eating asparagus,
Archimandrites tipping apartment houses,
Archdeacons smoking in automobiles,
refusing beggars,
accepting birth announcements
bandanas, brassieres:
pronunciation of
bread eating breeches,
clams eating
children at meals with guests,
coffins visiting
chambermaids tipping
Charleston weddings.
death as an excuse
at dances, at suppers,
at pseudo-breakfasts.
delivery boys tipping
deference in women —
duck wild, see wild duck —
exhibiting wedding presents:
earthenware eating
envelopes for writing paper.
emergencies,
evenings ended by women,
facecloths on fruit plates,
finger bowls at funerals,
flowers for death for home christenings
for butlers,
for valets with sack coat.
groom, in stable, tipping
gadgets, getting stuck
at dances
when women wear gloves
serving gravy.
see also sauceboats.
obligations of hospitality:
heads of Federal Agencies
kissing hands, handbells,
serving honey
eating Hochepot Normandie.
husband takes wife’s rank,
wears no hat,
with business suits,
with cutaway,
with dinner jacket.
in interviews with staff,
see coats of arms and lozenges.
ice buckets at cocktail parties and receptions,
jam pots on visiting cards of military,
lampshades after a christening
regretting invitations
in public, on children tipping masseurs.
Melba toast in address of Mormon bishop
on telegrams
on visiting cards,
with Junior,
mustard pots serving nuts at funerals
folding monograms for necktie clips.
(see under Mr. Jones.)
Napkins for budget buyers
given to “noblesse oblige”
on writing paper:
olives,
onions,
oyster forks,
for meals at home,
for wedding breakfasts,
for formal dinners.
Pepper pots as table decorations,
page boys postponing pew cards
at debutante dances,
at double weddings,
regretting invitations
to the White House.
Rabbis reaching Rhine wines,
Rhone wines,
removing food from mouth,
seeing guests off,
buying on a budget
salt grinders,
salt spoons,
serving dishes,
sherbet glasses.
Suckling pig showers for brides:
second helpings,
stacking dish,
tureens turning the table.
toasters for formal dinners
serving terrapin,
accepting by telegram
thermos jugs,
towels,
tricky usage tomato juice.
vegetable veils at funerals —
(very lovely usage
valise usage,
vanity usage,
valet usage, clothes and duties) —
waffie iron waistcoat for boys!
waiters at cocktail parties
walking watch chains,
serving whiskey,
serving wild duck,
serving woodcock.
invitations to new acquaintance from
wing collars for cutaway.
White House women,
tipping on yachts.
(pictured above, Millicent Fenwick on her lawn after landing a perfect flip)
Circular flipping works splendidly in this essay.
Hi Bill, Nothing to do with today's post but I'm just catching up and wanted to say I've just read The Tyee post about Last Week and it sounds such a beautiful book. Grateful that it is in the world because I know there will be someone out there who needs it so much. More and more, that's my definition of what makes a book worthwhile.
Link for anyone who sees this and hasn't seen the article: https://thetyee.ca/Culture/2022/04/05/One-Last-Week-Live/