Would It Kill You to Stop Doing That

Starred review from November 28, 2011
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.

December 1, 2011
Alford (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 name…to 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.

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