matters than just the amusements of balls and games and the pleasures of
your age, never be carried away by any fad or any new idea, as are
numbers of girls who are so highly educated that they have come rather
away from their more frivolous sisters. Fads are abnormal, and always
show some unbalance. One often hears would-be deep thinkers announcing
platitudes in cant phrases, and they frequently influence the young and
impressionable. You have often, for instance, heard them making remarks
about the “Rights of Man.” Now, ask yourself a common-sense question:
What are the Rights of Man? You will find that the answer is that there
are no such things! Man has evolved, and certain civilizations have
conceded him certain privileges, but as he made no bargain with the
Creator when he entered the world he cannot possibly have any “rights.”
Servants have “rights,” because they are doing specified work for food
and wages--they have made a bargain. All human beings have “rights”
between themselves when they make an agreement of exchange. But
man--just man in the abstract--can have no “rights” at all, for with
whom did he make a bargain? From whom can he claim them? So, when you
hear people using this phrase, you may know that they are talking
balderdash and have not thought about the matter.
Woman has no “rights” either. The whole aspect of these things for woman
is largely a question of geography, climate, and custom. One might say
the only natural “right” a woman appears to have is to become a mother,
because this seems to be her obvious mission in the scheme of things.
But the necessities of civilization and the laws of her country have,
above all things, restricted for her this privilege, except under
certain given circumstances laid down by law. So you see, Caroline, when
you come to analyze this phrase of “rights” it all falls to pieces! I
have only referred to it by chance, as an illustration of the folly of
using cant phrases. Never _pretend_ to be clever in any way; be natural
and easy, with that trained ease which is the highest attribute of
breeding. Another defect girls often have is shyness, and very few
people stop to analyze its cause. Shyness, when we have got down to the
bedrock of it, is pure personal egotism. People are shy because they
fancy others are observing them. If they were not so conscious of
themselves they would not be obsessed with this idea; they would realize
that they are probably not really very interesting, and may never have
struck others’ consciousness at all. But no--the perpetual, ever-present
perception of _self_ makes them awkward, makes them wonder what effect
they are producing, makes them nervous and the prey of every
foolishness. Whereas, if they were not so sensitively occupied with
their own feelings, they would do natural things without a tremor. I
have no patience when I hear a woman in a great position being excused
for stiffness and brusqueness by the plea of, “Oh, she is so dreadfully
shy!” It is not real humility--real humility would not be conscious of
self at all. It is vanity and egotism; and when seen in a grown woman
casts a very poor reflection upon those who had the charge of her
bringing-up from earliest childhood. If you are shy, Caroline, take
yourself sternly to task, analyze what makes you so, and overcome it.
Bashfulness and shyness are as great faults as boldness, and perhaps
cause more unhappiness. The antithesis of shyness is bumptiousness, and
this also comes from egotism; it is a different expression of the same
fundamental fault. Try to eradicate the root if you have a tendency to
either of its demonstrations.
There are all sorts of modern philosophers (in petticoats mostly, but
still some of them are _men!_) who, with more or less subtle reasoning,
are trying to inculcate an idea of the necessity of individualism in all
women. They urge _every unit_ to express her individuality, with the
result that the average female, who is little higher than the animal
world in intelligence, and not half so endowed with instinct, is
becoming a perfect bore! She has not the sense to see that, if she were
really gifted, nothing on earth could keep her from being individual,
and that, if she is not so, to try to push forward her commonplace ideas
only clogs the wheels of progress for the general company. Numbers of
foolish feather-brains, bitten with the idea that they have this high
mission of showing their individuality, have upset all possibility of
their own happiness and that of their families. Numbers of the poor
suffragettes are composed of these. The mass of women could not have
been intended to be individual by the laws of Nature--not of man--and
the few who are highly gifted have unconsciously been raised on
pedestals without their own effort. These are the first to comprehend
that it is necessary to look facts straight in the face, and to realize
that when it comes to the last stand, no matter what laws are made, man
will still be the master, through physical force. And oh! it would be
perfectly frightful, would it not, Caroline, dear? if we got back to a
state where men were obliged to club us to get their own way!
I am talking of this because I have often in these letters urged you to
acquire prestige through individuality, so I must explain, that you may
not misunderstand me. The thing I have been suggesting for you is
social, the individuality which exquisite manners and courtesy and
understanding can alone graft upon your natural talents and careful
education. Any other sort in a young girl turns to eccentricity. And if
when I see you I perceive that, though sweet and well educated, you are
still of a commonplace turn of mind, I shall desist from teaching you to
be a personage, but encourage you to take sensible pleasure in the
things suitable to your brain capacity; and so you will become a happy
little wife and a valuable atom of the community of England’s best
society.
And now, Caroline dear, I must conclude, and next week, when we meet in
London, I hope we shall clasp hands in mutual contentment.
Your affectionate Godmother,
E. G.
VII
JANUARY, 1914.
Since you came out last May, Caroline dear, we have seen so much of each
other at intervals that I have been able to tell you things, and have
had no occasion to write. But as I shall be abroad for several months,
and you in England, I shall have to begin again to help you in every way
I can by letters,--as--far from my task being over after your
presentation--we both found, did we not, dear child? that it had only
just begun! Because there are always new questions cropping up, which
you are sweet enough to want to ask my opinion about. And now I shall
answer the one contained in your letter of yesterday. You write that you
want to know what I think of the Tango and whether you ought to dance
it?
Let us take the subject from its broadest point of view, first--that of
new fads and fashions in general, and then we can get down to this
particular one which seems to be agitating so many minds in various
countries.
The first thing to realize is the _utter futility of going against the
spirit of the Age_. From the earliest days of civilization, waves of an
irresistible desire for some change--some freer expression of
emotion--have periodically swept over society; all the people with
limited horizons of thought have immediately launched forth their
protests, and their horrified and outraged feelings upon whatever the
subject happens to be have been expressed in frantic cries. But the
spirit of the Age has just laughed at them, and gone its way and they
have either eventually had to fall in with its mandates, or have been
swept aside and left high and dry in loneliness. I have no space here,
or desire to bore you, Caroline dear, by giving instances in the past of
what I mean, and besides most of them have been already cited in the
papers over this matter of the Tango. But to state two--everyone knows
the horror the introduction of the valse created, and the thought of a
lady bicycling would have made your grandmother shudder!
About every fad, every fashion, every new thing which is started, the
wise woman, Caroline, reserves judgment. Because these matters are not
questions of right and wrong, which a sense of duty should direct her to
have a decided opinion upon immediately; they are merely questions of
taste and expediency, and a calm review of them first is necessary
before making up the mind. If a girl or woman is of a sufficiently
distinguished personality, and is endowed with prestige and great social
position, she can start originalities herself if she pleases. But, if
she is a very young girl, this is most hazardous, and the really
sensible thing to do is to follow the oft-quoted maxim of the Prime
Minister and “wait and see!” It is as foolish to plunge with ardor into
an untested new fad--which you may be ashamed of presently--as it is to
treat it with antagonistic scorn and swear you will never have anything
to do with it! Either course of action may possibly place you in an
undesirable or ridiculous position after a while, when the fad or
fashion has either shown itself to be vulgar and impossible--or has come
to stay!
Give no opinion upon any radically new departure, my child. Quietly and
in your own mind weigh its merits and demerits, and see if they come
above or below the standard of your own self-respect and the true sense
of the fitness of things--and then presently decide for or against.
Never be ruled by the outcries of old-fashioned people any more than you
must be led away by the feather-brains of your own age. But when you
have arrived at the moment for decision judge _the thing itself_ by
those two standards that I have just indicated, and not by what anyone
else thinks of it. Ask yourself, “If I play this game, or wear these
clothes, or dance this dance, am I degrading my ideal of myself in any
way? Is there really something indecent and immodest in it? Or is it
shrieked at simply because some of the shriekers are too old to enjoy
it, or their minds have turned to whatever side of it they can fix upon
which can be developed into something suggesting impropriety?”
When you have sifted the motives for the outcries against the new
fashion, whatever it may be, and have come to your own conclusions, go
along steadily on your way, and be not disturbed, remembering always
that excess in anything is undesirable and all eccentricity is vulgar in
a young girl. There will be plenty of unbalanced youths and maidens in
your world who will rush headlong into any new fad the instant that it
is suggested to them. Well, Caroline, be very sagacious! And let them be
the _ballons d’essai_! Watch how the thing seems to you and if it is
likely to lead to pleasure or disgust. You will not have committed
yourself to either side by this abeyance of expressed opinion, and can
(to use another political phrase!) be safely “seated upon the fence”
for a sufficient time to be able to decide whether the debated thing is
only some small passing folly of one set--or if it is really something
brought by the spirit of the Age. You will soon be able to settle this
question, and, if you find that it has this omnipotent force at its
back, do not hesitate to adapt it to your desires, and _use it
gracefully_. I have emphasized these three words on purpose, because
therein lies the whole pith of the subject--for it is so often the
manner of a thing which counts more than the matter.
There is another important fact to be remembered, namely, the tremendous
force of familiarity and custom which can turn startling innovations
into unnoticeable and innocuous every-day occurrences.
If one stops to think for a minute one can conjure up numbers of sights
which, viewed from a detached point uninfluenced by the familiarity of
custom, would seem horribly shocking to one or other of our senses. For
instance, if we had never seen a butcher’s shop before, some of us would
faint at the first view of it! This unpleasant simile I give merely to
show you in a very concrete and forcible manner what I mean--your own
intelligence will apply the test to other subjects.
Thus, I remember, when first I saw a rather stout and elderly lady on a
bicycle, I felt a wave of repulsion and, with others in the street, I
turned my head to look at her in disgust. One sees them every day now
and one does not even remark the fact. I went with a party to a very
fashionable restaurant to see in 1913, where as a rule only the élite of
society congregate--and where reserve and decorum are the natural tone
of the place. However, for the New Year’s Eve feast, it seemed to have
opened its doors to a crowd of the most aspiring inhabitants of
Suburbia, who afterwards danced in the ballroom. They indulged in
wonderful “Bunny Hugs” and “Turkey Trots”--and probably the Tango,
although its name had not become so famous then, and I did not recognize
it. I recollect how we stood and watched them and laughed at some of the
sights. Respectable, and often very plump, _mères de familles_ with
agonized faces of strain in case they should forget a step, were bumping
against and clinging in strange fashion to some equally preoccupied
partner! I thought then how undignified, how even revolting it was. But
now when I go out here in Paris, even among the most _recherchées
grandes dames_ and see them (grandmothers some of them!) taking their
hour or two of exercise by dancing the Tango, I am moved by no spirit of
disgust, I merely feel critical as to whether or no they do it well--so
far has custom and familiarity removed antipathy!
So I want you to take this powerful factor into consideration, Caroline,
dear, in all matters of innovations. I want you to realize that they
will become unremarkable and unimportant--so that the only sensible,
just and _sagacious_ way to look at them, if you should feel you wish to
indulge in them, is to try to find out how far you can do so at that
present moment of the day without making yourself ridiculous or looking
unseemly. You can always exploit and expand your style when you see it
is advisable. As I said before, there is no rigid law of right and wrong
about such affairs, all are weighed by custom and suitability to present
circumstances. As an illustration I will tell you a story of, perhaps,
nineteen years ago.
I was in one of the great capitals of Europe when bicycling was just
starting, and at a court held a young American girl was presented to the
Queen. The presentations there were arranged quite differently to ours
in England and the august lady said a few words to each _débutante_.
When it came to the turn of the American girl, the Queen--a lady of
perhaps forty-five--asked her if she was interested in seeing the sights
of the ancient city.
“Why, no, Your Majesty,” the sprightly maiden replied, “I bicyclate--do
you bicyclate? It is no end of fun.”
The Queen became very pink and said coldly, “Such pastimes are hardly
suitable to my age or position,” and passed on--but the nice point of
the tale is that at that very moment the Sovereign was taking lessons
in the strict privacy of her own royal garden! Only her perfect sense of
the fitness of things made her not expose herself at that early day of
the fashion in public, or even admit that she was countenancing the new
exercise.
Do not think for a moment, Caroline, that, in all this that I have been
saying, I am advocating a hypocritical course of conduct which may be
applied to other things. This “wait and see” attitude I am only
suggesting as prudent to adopt over such light matters as fashions and
fads. But this, I hope, child, you have been intelligent enough to
understand as you have read my words. You are fortunately not of that
turn of mind which twists sentences to your own liking. So now, as I
feel that you will have grasped my point of view about all new
amusements and innovations, we can get on to the actual point of the
much discussed Tango!
It would seem that it has been brought by the spirit of the Age, and so
no outcries from any section of society will stop its progress. It will
only cease to be danced when satiety has set in, and the spirit which
brought it has moved further on. Its great difficulty will help to
lengthen its reign. Emperors and strict parents may desire its
banishment, and forbid its being indulged in by those over whose actions
they have command,--but presently their orders will be evaded by even
these, for youth will have its way, and general society will do as it
pleases.
This being the case, Caroline, you can come off your prudent fence
(where you were quite right to sit until now!) and take the very best
lessons in the Tango you can procure without a troubled thought in your
pretty head as to whether or no you ought to dance a dance of “low
Argentine origin,” or whether or no vulgar and immodest people can weave
into it some unpleasant features--the more they do so the more
gracefully and in the more distinguished fashion can you try to practice
it.
Do not endeavor to learn too many steps. Stick to a few until you can
do them so well that you can dance with any good partner without that
look of strain overspreading your face, and in the certainty that you
will be able to follow his lead. You can say to him as you start, “I
only know such and such steps.” Try at first to peep at yourself moving
in some long mirror--notice if your attitude is graceful and
sufficiently reserved without being stiff. And one thing I do implore of
you, Caroline, do not cavort constantly with any creature who may have
crept into the houses where you go, just because he is a good Tango
dancer, if he has no other quality to recommend him. Try to stick to the
young men of your own class and set, whose company you are accustomed to
in other games and other moments. They will learn to become good
dancers soon enough when they find that for them to do so is the wish of
the nicest girls. If you want an instance of what I mean, there was a
perfectly admirable illustration in the _Daily Mirror_ not long ago in
that page where the funny sketches are. I think it was called “Her
Ladyship’s Tango Partner,” or some such title, and was quite exquisitely
humorous--and gives the exact note of what I am advising you about. If
you did not happen to see it get the back numbers and look it up, as it
will show you exactly the way that it is undesirable that you should
have to look at those young men whom you allow to be your partners. When
they have sunk into just that “Her Ladyship’s Tango Partners,” then you
can know that I should not approve of your dancing with them. Unless you
have deliberately paid them to teach you, when the situation is
different and you turn into pupil and master, not a thoughtless
Caroline, using some humble person for her own ends without
remuneration, or with the remuneration of favors which should only be
granted to those of her own class.
There are always weird people in society among all ranks who seem to
take a delight in removing barriers, and the landmarks of suitable
conduct, by bringing paid instructors of fashionable pastimes out of
their places--making everyone round them uncomfortable, and themselves
conspicuous. These people--no matter what their worldly rank may
be--must have some strong strain of vulgarity in themselves not to
understand better the sense of the fitness of things, and they do much
to sound the death knell of the pastime itself. You should never forget
that gentle courtesy is due from you to every paid instructor you employ
in any of your games--but no familiarity--and if the golf master, or the
skating master, or the Tango master respects himself, he will be
disgusted with you if you forget your place with him. I believe this is
quite unnecessary advice to you, Caroline, child, but I cannot help
giving it, so unpleasantly surprised have I been at the behavior I have
witnessed among some girls who ought to have known better.
There is one other thing I have noticed and want to tell you about. I do
not know if it applies to England now also because I have not been there
since June, but here in Paris, for some strange reason, no one wears
gloves when dancing the Tango! And the result is that these clever
Parisiennes have taken unusual care about their hands--which seem whiter
and more attractive looking than ever, with superlatively polished
nails. It has brought in a regular cult of dainty fingers which I
sincerely hope will spread across the Channel. Just consider how
grateful we ought to be to the Tango if for no other reason! When one
thinks of the unappetizing red fists such numbers of our country-women
used to flourish!
Here at first one had an inclination to laugh when one saw the mothers
dancing the Tango as well as the daughters, but if they do this in
England do not let yourself be spiteful about it, Caroline. The exercise
is so splendid, and it keeps them young and inclined to be more
sympathetic with their children. What is really ridiculous in these
elderly ladies is to do anything--_soi-disant_--for pleasure which is in
reality a labor and a fatigue, just because they want to be in the swim.
But if mothers and chaperones honestly enjoy dancing and can find
willing partners, why not let them indulge their desires in peace? If
they have the dignity which they ought to have they will realize the
situations and the entertainments in and at which they ought to refrain
from participating actively. But try to be tolerant, Caroline, in your
judgment of them. For this is another remarkable feature which the
Spirit of this Age has brought--the intense desire in everyone to keep
young, and it is a good desire at its base.
I do not dance the Tango myself, although I am at the fashionable age
for it here (over forty!), but it is not from principle, but because it
would bore me terribly to have to do so--and I have arrived at a time of
life when I can please myself about my amusements. But to you who are
young I give this piece of worldly advice. Even if the Tango does not
particularly attract you, _if it is the rage among your set try to learn
it_ because otherwise you will soon begin to feel yourself left out and
neglected, no matter how pretty and accomplished you are in other ways,
for I know you well enough now to know that you are not strong enough,
dear child, to turn a tide or make any considerable quantity of your
friends follow your lead. There are only about three women in every age
who can ever do this, so do not be offended with me for my plain
speaking.
And for a last word about the Tango. Dance it, if your friends dance it,
and try to do it with the most perfect grace and modesty that diligent
[Illustration: “_The Tango--dance it, if your friends dance it, and try
to do it with the most perfect grace._”]
practice and natural refinement can suggest. It is hard work, and
nothing looks more unattractive than this dance when badly done. Be
particularly careful how you hold yourself and how you permit your
partner to hold you, and do try to keep your face from looking as though
you were counting. If a thing which is supposed to be a recreation
requires such concentration as that, it becomes no longer a pleasure to
indulge in it yourself, and gives none to those who are looking on at
you doing it. There are still numbers of old-fashioned people who have
never seen the Tango and who talk the most incredible nonsense about it,
based upon “what they have heard.” Let any of them see the dance
beautifully performed, and I am sure all prejudice against it would be
removed. But whether this is so or no, Caroline, I advise you, child, to
enjoy it while you can, allowing good taste and good sense to guide you
as to how you do it, where you do it, and when you do it.
And now, good-bye,
Your affectionate Godmother,
E. G.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
you will be so disguished=> you will be so distinguished {pg 94}
Copyright, 1912, 1913, by Harper’s Bazar, Inc.=> Copyright, 1912, 1913,
by Harper’s Bazaar, Inc. {front}
End of Project Gutenberg's Your Affectionate Godmother, by Elinor Glyn