 squirrel vs magpie
You’ll find that the English are more sentimental and more capricious than us French. The films and plays liked by the general public here are swimming in sentimentality. Clearly we’re no longer in the era when Dickens, at the end of his novels, had to satisfy his public by reassuring them that all his characters ended happily. But among the English there are many who hang on to the need to believe that England is Paradise on earth.
They know the weaknesses in human nature, but would be made unhappy if they had to admit to them publicly. This is the source on one hand of their sentimentality and on the other their need for a moral mask.
The English sincerely wish to believe that human destiny, but above all their own, is determined by moral scruple. To make an Englishman do anything, it is only necessary to propose some action which conforms to the interests of his country and which can also, with more or less truthfulness, be described as moral.
Even with animals, or at least the animals they like, the English seek sportsmanlike behaviour. For them, a good dog is a gentleman; a trout is a lady. I’ve picked this letter from the Times, written by a clergyman. He writes:
‘I think that the following story, to which I was a witness, will interest your readers. This morning, in my garden, two magpies and a squirrel organized a race from the bottom of a tree to the top. The squirrel climbed up the length of the trunk, while the magpies jumped from branch to branch, and I’m happy to say that neither of the birds took immoral advantage of their ability to fly. Both of them showed themselves to be genuinely good sports.’
How charming. This fine fellow, who himself attaches the highest importance to conventions and rules, shows himself naively convinced that these qualities keep the same value in the world of birds.
 'look at how they walk'
Don’t work too hard. Above all don’t be what they call ‘fussy’. Wait until someone asks you to do something. Don’t rush to do what needs doing in advance, or not with any excessive ardour.
You ask me: ‘Are they lazy?’
Not exactly. They think it betrays pride to want to do too much. Look at how they walk. Quite slowly, very long strides. That’s how they get on in life. They don’t like to jostle destiny.
In the army, they used to say to me: ‘Never refuse a mission. Never ask for one either.’
They’re ambitious like people everywhere, but they hide it pretty well.
 'astonishingly cynical'
Victorian modesty is dying. Finally, the scientific reasoning of Freud and his disciples has licensed the Anglo-Saxons to express their passions.
In the London theatres you will see plays that are so bold no-one would dare stage them in Paris. You will read American and English novels that are astonishingly cynical. Don’t get carried away. Their extreme cynicism is itself a sign that there remains a large portion of Puritanism. This makes for a unique and explosive combination which a foreigner is advised to handle with care.
Especially as the British masses are less convinced by these new mores. Julian Huxley tells a representative story. At the London Zoo, a lady approaches the keeper at the hippopotamus pit.
‘Excuse me,’ she asks, ‘Please could you tell me whether this hippopotamus is male or female?’
The guardian looks aghast.
‘That, madam,’ he replies, ’is a question that can only be of interest to another hippopotamus.’
This keeper of animals is also the guardian of Victorian modesty.
 'respect for the law'
In England, don’t kill anybody. You’ll be hung. In front of a French jury, if you have a bit of imagination, a good-looking face and a smart lawyer, you can just about save yourself. But twelve English jurors will have no sympathy for your hurt and heartbreak. They’ll have you strung up by the neck until you’re dead.
So be careful, and avoid their courts of law. The cross-questioning of their lawyers is so unbearably skilful that to escape their hail of questions you’ll gladly swear you stole Nelson’s Column.
Remember that respect for the law is greater here than elsewhere. In English, ‘Keep Off the Grass’ does not mean ‘Go On Then, No-one Really Cares.’
 'new pleasures'
Before you leave, everyone will tell you how poor the food is in England. This isn’t entirely true. If you know how to time your hunger, you’ll be able to eat perfectly well. In England there are two excellent meals: breakfast and tea. Reserve your appetite for these meals only.
Learn to appreciate new pleasures: porridge, kippers, marmelade. At lunch-time, fill yourself up with a big piece of rare beef or some admirably pink ham. Refuse desert, in as manly a way as possible. Say firmly:
‘I don’t like sweet.’
In England, every other shop is a sweet shop, but even so the English have no idea what to do with sugar. Leave the desserts to the women and children.
Adopt a taste for the national drinks. They’ll tell you that whisky is a ‘clean drink’. And so it is: it clarifies the spirit, sharpens the tongue and reheats the body. The beers are good, but be careful to drink them like you drink our northern beers. During the war, melancholy Tommies used to tell me:
‘We can’t get drunk on French beer!’
Never forget that a Frenchman can get drunk only too easily on English beer.
Train yourself to drink a glass of sherry before dinner, port after dinner, and whisky at eleven o’clock at night. You will not impress if you drink only water.
Disraeli, in discussions with Bismarck, forced himself to smoke even though it made him feel sick.
‘In that kind of situation,’ he said, ‘the man who doesn’t smoke looks like he’s judging the other.’
You’ll get a taste for it, and anyway, their very dry port is better than ours.
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About Me
About Richard Beard
I'm a novelist and non-fiction writer, and Director of The National Academy of Writing in London. As time goes by I'm gradually transferring the material from the old site (stories, articles, squibs) into the categories tabbed above. There's information on each of my books, with summaries and reviews, and now that I'm permanently back in the country I'm available for events and readings. Email me using Contact, below. I'll get back to you.
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