Available:*
Library | Call Number | Status |
|---|---|---|
Searching... Hardwood Creek Library (Forest Lake) | 395.0207 ALF | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Park Grove Library (Cottage Grove) | 395.0207 ALF | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | 395.0207 ALF | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
"We all know bad manners when we see them," NPR and Vanity Fair contributor Henry Alford observes at the beginning of his new book. But what, he asks, do good manners look like in our day and age? When someone answers their cell phone in the middle of dining with you, or runs you off the sidewalk with their doublewide stroller, or you enter a post-apocalyptic public restroom, the long-revered wisdom of Emily Post can seem downright prehistoric.
Troubled by the absence of good manners in his day-to-day life-by the people who clip their toenails on the subway or give three-letter replies to one's laboriously crafted missives-Alford embarks on a journey to find out how things might look if people were on their best behavior a tad more often. He travels to Japan (the "Fort Knox Reserve" of good manners) to observe its culture of collective politesse. He interviews etiquette experts both likely (Judith Martin, Tim Gunn) and unlikely (a former prisoner, an army sergeant). He plays a game called Touch the Waiter. And he volunteers himself as a tour guide to foreigners visiting New York City in order to do ground-level reconnaissance on cultural manners divides. Along the way (in typical Alford style) he also finds time to teach Miss Manners how to steal a cab; designates the World's Most Annoying Bride; and tosses his own hat into the ring, volunteering as an online etiquette coach.
Ultimately, by tackling the etiquette questions specific to our age-such as Why shouldn't you ask a cab driver where's he's from?, Why is posting baby pictures on Facebook a fraught activity? and What's the problem with "No problem"?-Alford finds a wry and warm way into a subject that has sometimes been seen as pedantic or elitist. And in this way, he looks past the standard "dos" and "don'ts" of good form to present an illuminating, seriously entertaining book about grace and civility, and how we can simply treat each other better.
Author Notes
Henry Alford is the author of three acclaimed works of investigative humor: How To Live: A Seach for Wisdom from Old People (While They are Still on this Earth) ; Big Kiss: One Actor's Desperate Attempt to Claw His Way to the Top ; and Municipal Bondage: One Man's Anxiety-Producing Adventures in the Big City . He has been a regular contributor to the New York Times and Vanity Fair , and a staff writer at Spy . He has also written for the New Yorker , GQ , New York , Details , Harper's Bazaar , Travel & Leisure , the Village Voice , and the Paris Review . He lives in Manhattan.
Reviews (4)
Publisher's Weekly Review
High-handed hurling of etiquette barbs from New York City to Japan prompts this wickedly witty account by urbane observer Alford (Big Kiss). A New York City journalist and self-described "cultural ambassador," Alford resolved to challenge the received wisdom about manners, so as to smooth human-relational feathers and to expose his own appalling lapses, such as when playing "Touch the Waiter" while dining out (a "brief, tactile contact with a stranger in the same way that you might laugh at her joke"). Alford defines his terms: there are manners, such as the disciplined behavior required of each of us to show respect for one another, e.g., not soiling the toilet seat for the next person (and here we are treated to a fascinating exegesis on the marvels of the Japanese toilet), while etiquette and protocol are more specific expectations within a general heading, such as how to behave at weddings (e.g., not offering to wipe the bride's cheek with a sanitary towelette before you have to kiss her) and whether you can forage in the host's pantry while cat-sitting at her house (yes, as long as you leave a portion's worth behind). Alford has consulted the experts-meeting Miss Manners in person, and lunching with Tim Gunn (Project Runway)-as well as friends for their etiquette pet peeves, like whether to greet acquaintances at a drugstore (what might they be buying!) or pose importunate questions to the sick and elderly ("Are you okay?")? E-mail protocol abounds, not surprisingly, and advice in making small talk, rendering this a charming, funny, Noel Cowardesque primer in smartening up. (Jan.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Review
How to Live: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still on This Earth), 2009, etc.) embarks on an idiosyncratic excursion into the land of civility. Manners became of interest to the author when he came across a comment by Edmund Burke that manners were more important than laws, and realized how true that was for him. Each day, his life had "been far more affected by the small indignities, or the tiny acts of grace, than by any piece of governmental legislation." A book project was born: "I decided to study these tiny-but-huge things: to read about them, and travel in their nameto hold up a magnifying glass to unattractive habits that I stumble upon, be they my own or others'." In his highly subjective, modestly twisted, rudeness-barely-checked way, Alford engages random aspects of manners. He commiserates with readers over choosing the right greeting--hug, kiss, handshake, fist bump, shoulder grab--and tuning into the error of excessive self-deprecation or the slippery slope of formal, hierarchical protocols: "highly arbitrary, difficult to parse, and subject to change without notice." His focus can be broad, as suggesting that tone trumps action (or, paraphrasing Noel Coward, "it's all a matter of lighting"), but often as not he screws down tight on small example from his life--as a tour guide or online manners coach for instance, when he shows himself to be a discreet, keen observer rippling with bad-boy humor. Alford is a razory-wicked, fun guy to be around, and each of his stories are like those "tiny acts of grace" brightening your day.]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
New York Review of Books Review
HENRY ALFORD'S breezy guide to manners begins promisingly with a fact-finding trip to Japan, "the Fort Knox of the World Manners Reserve." He hires a Japanese etiquette coach and learns that it's rude to point with your fingers or sneeze in public. Alford wisely wastes no time trying to see the logic of Japanese dos and don'ts, which often make no more sense than our own. We don't have to know why it's rude not to slurp your noodles in Tokyo. Why is beside the point. Wherever we're strangers, even if it's in Morocco in Cell Block 6, all we need are the rules - the etiquette manual. "Manners," Alford explains, "are principles, and etiquette is the specific acts of these principles." "Would It Kill You to Stop Doing That?" at first seems bent on discovering whether any underlying principles are universal. If so, it's not obvious. Example: Oscar Wilde's famous claim that a gentleman is "one who never hurts another's feelings unintentionally" baffles even Anglophile Americans. In the United States, the giving of intentional offense signals that one is itching for a fight, in which case the gloves of manners come off. American and British manners would seem, then, to have at least one set of opposing priorities. But is there some first principle that unites them, along with all other human societies? We may never know. Alford soon abandons the hunt and settles for anecdotes, personal surveys, interviews and thought experiments, many of which take him pretty far afield. Coming up with a polite way to tell someone he needs to blow his nose is a manners challenge all right, but what about waiting to make sure a friend you have dropped off late at night gets safely into his car and starts it up? Surely the well-being of fellow creatures is at heart a moral issue. What Alford may be trying to do is somehow blur the line between manners and morals. When it comes to manners, he complains, it's easier to say what we shouldn't do rather than what we should. But this claim isn't entirely persuasive, as becomes clear when he argues that manners be made more positive, more proactive - that we should engage in "lovely gestures." "If someone sends you a gift certificate, why not send that person a photo of what you bought"? O.K., but what's wrong with a thank-you note? It may not be as lovely as a snapshot of a silk scarf, but it's already one of the countless "shoulds" of good manners. "Would It Kill You to Stop Doing That?" amuses as it informs, but Alford's book lacks focus and organization as he wafts from thought to thought. It has an entertaining index (samples under "Unintentional Bad Manners" include "Pregnancy press release" and "Department store assumptions based on blazer"), but it's too scattershot to be any kind of reference guide. For that, one would turn to Miss Manners, which Alford actually does, interviewing her in a hotel lobby and learning that the manners of the Southern white aristocracy were originally imparted by household slaves, whose own origins were often considerably less humble than those of their owners. Had he spent more time with her, Alford might also have learned that American women should not curtsy to the queen of England. Still, he does teach Miss Manners something: how to steal a cab. This requires What he calls a "hailing technique" and involves positioning oneself a block up-stream of the last desperate hailer. What this has to do with manners is anyone's guess, but her response - "Wow, you really do have a technique" - is (of course) properly measured. IT'S probably just as well that Alford doesn't tell her about "Touch the Waiter," a private amusement in which he vies with tablemates to see who can touch a waiter the most often without the waiter becoming aware of it. The game involves an elaborate honor code that's supposed to keep it from being objectionable. How can the waiter take offense if he remains clueless? Except that the game is right here in Alford's book, so it's hardly private now. This suggests a possible First Principle of Manners, one not dwelt upon in "Would It Kill You to Stop Doing That?": discretion. Jincy Willett's most recent novel is "The Writing Class."
Library Journal Review
Alford (How To Live: A Search for Wisdom from Old People [While They Are Still on This Earth]) maintains pitch-perfect humor throughout this reflection on how we treat one another. Whether sardonic, self-deprecating, or gleefully crass, his observations are eminently readable and usually manage to slip in a moral or two. Do not expect much concrete guidance on how to behave in particular situations, as you might find in Emily Post's Etiquette. Instead, Alford loosely threads together culture shock anecdotes about his travel to Japan and his life in New York to paint a broad picture of manners, etiquette, and protocol in the modern world. At times the effect can be disjointed, especially when stories are told merely for their humor but fail to add otherwise significant content. Verdict This light fare will keep manners mavens in stitches and will appeal more broadly to readers of humorous nonfiction about travel or the intersection of cultures. Readers looking for a guide to proper behavior with a modern twist will be better served by Caroline Tiger's How To Behave: A Guide to Modern Manners.-Audrey Barbakoff, Kitsap Regional Lib., Bainbridge Island, WA (c) Copyright 2012. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
