A blissful refuge, warm and cheery, serving as a buffer against the harsh world of commerce, competition and connivance—that was the Victorian notion of a household.
Never mind that we now know where Father was when he came home late and why Mother thought certain aspects of life not worth mentioning. Never mind that the children who grew up under such protection spent the rest of their lives sneering at those monstrous hypocrites, their parents, for being so ridiculously self-sacrificing and secretive. Providing that smug atmosphere only demonstrated how unrealistic, unimaginative and unadventurous they were, as their more sophisticated children kindly pointed out when they reached their majority.
Nowadays, the household is given greater importance than ever, but more as a source of material for social turmoil than as a refuge from it. Those peeking in the windows want to set terms for its composition, and those peeking out don’t dispute the intrusion unless whatever arrangement they have—relatives, friends or strangers; the legally coupled or the extra-legally coupled; single people, single parents, single genders or the single-minded; adults with their children, his children, her children, no children or someone else’s children—is criticized.
Inside, emotional heat is expended on declarations of individual rights and transgressions, debates involving gender and generation and discussions involving possessions and relationships. It makes a chilly atmosphere, seldom warmed by courtesy, cheerfulness and cooperation.
Miss Manners contends that the domestic oasis is still a good idea. To those who even now harbor the same feelings as those Edwardian ingrates (whose own children had the nerve to call them Victorian, as succeeding history-defying generations have continued to do in turn), she would like to point out that we have now tested the counter-measures they demanded. Modern families have done what rebellious generations have long prescribed as necessary for mental health: They have brought the fresh air of frankness, honesty and openness into the suffocating atmosphere of Victorian domesticity.
The real world not only came indoors, but made itself thoroughly at home. The hearth, now known as the entertainment center, is where the family loiters when the demands and the pleasures of the commercial world have been temporarily exhausted—in order to enjoy the company of images from the commercial world.
If parties are given at all, they are less likely to be for family merriment than for advancing someone’s professional interests. The disappointments in parents’ lives, especially in the matter of romance, are no secret from their children, any more than from the rest of the town. Nor are the compensations parents seek along these lines kept hypocritically hidden. Negative moods are frankly indulged, on the grounds that no one should have to put on a falsely happy demeanor at home. Articulating one’s irritation with others in the household is encouraged, both because it frankly alerts those others to their shortcomings and because it clears the air.
The trouble with such policies is that they create the need for a cozy refuge. Those who don’t want to move into the neighborhood bar might learn something from the policies they spurned.
Not everything, of course. Miss Manners opposes going mindlessly back to the past, if for no other reason than that re-creating the same conditions would lead to re-creating the same opposition. Nor is she insensible to the advances made in family happiness through the sharing of feelings and the relaxation of pressures.
Nevertheless, the traditional idea of a cheerful household is worth salvaging, even though it means passing up countless opportunities to make the other residents feel one’s every dissatisfaction. Part of this is merely accepting the normal ups and downs of life rather than making scenes or pointing out everybody else’s mistakes and foibles. Another part is shielding children from the more frightening or less savory aspects of adult life. The very hardest part is controlling large and small impulses that do damage to others in the household—and if not controlling them, at least veiling them from view. As the beneficiaries of this policy were quick to declare, it is hypocritical. It also makes things more pleasant around the house.
So many people wail that they would love to do what it takes to have a pleasant household—sit down to dinner together, extend hospitality, indulge in conversation, offer the children daily guidance in politeness—if only they weren’t so harried, that Miss Manners came to believe that such was the condition of modern life. She was not willing to concede that an entire generation had to give up civilized domestic life, but she agonized about how they could achieve it.
Tragically, there are people who are just about forced to give up living life in order to make a living. Oddly enough, these are sometimes the very people who refuse to succumb. Basic family rituals and amenities are often most strictly maintained by someone working two jobs while rearing children, perhaps alone, and still finding time to assist the occasional needy relative or neighbor. Those are not the folks from whom Miss Manners hears about modern busyness.
It was only when she took a look at the schedules of those who are doing the complaining that her sympathies began to wane. They are also working around the clock, perhaps not at two jobs but at one divided among daytime, nighttime and weekend shifts, featuring not only the work itself but working lunches, employee birthdays, client entertainment, office parties, business trips, weekend retreats and attitude-training sessions. It barely leaves them discretionary time to watch television, surf the Internet, work out, follow courses of personal self-improvement and drive their children to equally rigorous schedules.
These are all respectable activities, and Miss Manners does not begrudge people any pleasures they may find within the bounds of work. She is willing to help them pack in as much as they want, while rigorously maintaining her defense of those who eschew pseudo-socializing on the job, and promising not to expect a working household to be a showcase for revived old crafts. Acknowledging that the structure of the modern working world does make it difficult to maintain a satisfactory domestic and community life, she devotes herself to teaching how it can nevertheless be achieved. In her small way, she labors to change the cruel system by which the normal duties and pleasures of personal life are treated as frills that working people have to squeeze in as best they can while surrendering all their waking hours to keep a roof over their head during their sleeping hours.
However, when people lament that time devoted to self-improvement forces them to shortchange their families and friends—when those who have no time to break bread with their families or share a crust with friends can find time to bake it and to go to a gym to work it off—she decides that they are taking up too much of her time.