Mary Sisney's Blog - Posts Tagged "manners"
Morals Versus Manners: Why I Support the Anti-PC Movement
When I taught the novel of manners, I liked to discuss the difference between morals and manners. Novelists like Henry James and Edith Wharton portray characters who have perfect manners but terrible morals. Manners are, of course, superficial. Saying the right words, wearing the right clothes, and arriving at a party at the right time are easy to learn tricks that don't reveal a person's true character. The rich folks who populate novels of manners usually have good manners, but most of them have bad morals. Of course, there are no black characters in these late 19th and early 20th Century novels. Even the maids and cooks are white. But in my favorite Edith Wharton novel, HOUSE OF MIRTH, a "filthy rich," upwardly mobile Jewish character named Simon Rosedale takes the role of the outsider with bad manners but good morals. Although she's clearly anti-Semitic (she supposedly congratulated Fitzgerald on his portrayal of the comically gross Jewish character Meyer Wolfshiem in GREAT GATSBY), Wharton shows that the rude, crude Rosedale has a bigger heart than Lily Bart's polished, upper class so-called friends. Rosedale is touched by Lily's plight and even visits her after she has fallen out of the upper class.
Despite his obvious faults, I prefer Rosedale to all of the men (including Selden) in HOUSE OF MIRTH, probably because I identify with him. Like my people, he is, of course, a victim of prejudice, but also like many blacks, and certainly this one, he has little patience with the "polite" bullshit thrown around by the snobbish upper class New York society that Wharton portrays in her novels. All of the rich men in this society buy their beautiful wives, but only Rosedale openly discusses the transaction. And when he catches Lily coming out of a building where only bachelors live, he lets her know that he will use that information if she becomes too snobbish and disrespectful of him.
Like Rosedale, I can be rude and occasionally even crude. Several weeks ago, I admitted that I have some "hood rat" in me because I was born in the working class. While I always maintain my composure when debating on social media and like to point out that debaters lose the argument once they start name-calling and spewing crude insults, I can occasionally revert to my "hood rat" roots in a face-to-face debate. When I lose control of my temper in an oral debate, I can also lose control of my rhetoric. Last year, for instance, when the woman who is still the President of the HOA board despite being rejected by the community and being told by me multiple times that she needs to step down, screamed at me while banging on the table, I became enraged. I had been in this younger white woman's presence only twice, and both times she had screamed at me. I had to take deep breaths to even continue talking. But the woman, who comes from a prominent family, was able to return immediately to a polite conversation. She even tried to joke with me. Finally, when I'd had enough of the lies and manipulation of that woman and the white female property manager, I jumped up abruptly and stormed out of the room. As I was leaving, Madam President said sweetly, "Thanks for coming." The "hood rat" responded quietly but probably loud enough for her to hear, "Kiss my ass."
Now that incident was not my proudest moment. I was rushing out of the room because I felt my "hood rat" rising and knew I was about to turn into an Atlanta Housewife. However, nothing I've done or said equals the dirty deeds of Madam President, other board members, and the property manager. I haven't, for instance, tried to force other people to paint homes that do not need painting while not painting my own home. And I can't imagine participating in a scheme to invalidate an election, to prevent the people who were elected from serving on the board while staying on myself, knowing that the community had rejected me.
When I attended the last board meeting (and probably the last ever for me), Madam President complained that I had called her a racist, and my white female next door neighbor, who had initially been an ally but switched sides, accused me of calling Madam President a bitch. I don't remember using the b-word as I was exiting, although I was certainly thinking it. But so what? As I said in an e-mail to the unelected, illegal, all-white board, I prefer being called a racist to being oppressed by racism, and I prefer being called a bitch to being attacked by a bitch. I might have added that calling someone racist should not be as objectionable as being a racist and calling someone a bitch should be considered more polite than being a bitch.
Like Bill Maher and other comedians, I'm sick of all of the fake outrage over every crude comment and every politically incorrect joke. We need to focus on the real problems--racism and bitchery. This working-class "hood rat" might not always use the right words at the right time, but I am infinitely more moral than the three privileged white people who are illegally occupying the HOA board, preventing this elected black woman from serving, so that they can use their power to harass and mistreat our diverse community.
Although he's crude and gross, I'd rather be Rosedale than any of the high society folks that looked down their noses at him and cut Lily Bart when she was no longer in their circle. I'd rather have bad manners than bad morals.
Despite his obvious faults, I prefer Rosedale to all of the men (including Selden) in HOUSE OF MIRTH, probably because I identify with him. Like my people, he is, of course, a victim of prejudice, but also like many blacks, and certainly this one, he has little patience with the "polite" bullshit thrown around by the snobbish upper class New York society that Wharton portrays in her novels. All of the rich men in this society buy their beautiful wives, but only Rosedale openly discusses the transaction. And when he catches Lily coming out of a building where only bachelors live, he lets her know that he will use that information if she becomes too snobbish and disrespectful of him.
Like Rosedale, I can be rude and occasionally even crude. Several weeks ago, I admitted that I have some "hood rat" in me because I was born in the working class. While I always maintain my composure when debating on social media and like to point out that debaters lose the argument once they start name-calling and spewing crude insults, I can occasionally revert to my "hood rat" roots in a face-to-face debate. When I lose control of my temper in an oral debate, I can also lose control of my rhetoric. Last year, for instance, when the woman who is still the President of the HOA board despite being rejected by the community and being told by me multiple times that she needs to step down, screamed at me while banging on the table, I became enraged. I had been in this younger white woman's presence only twice, and both times she had screamed at me. I had to take deep breaths to even continue talking. But the woman, who comes from a prominent family, was able to return immediately to a polite conversation. She even tried to joke with me. Finally, when I'd had enough of the lies and manipulation of that woman and the white female property manager, I jumped up abruptly and stormed out of the room. As I was leaving, Madam President said sweetly, "Thanks for coming." The "hood rat" responded quietly but probably loud enough for her to hear, "Kiss my ass."
Now that incident was not my proudest moment. I was rushing out of the room because I felt my "hood rat" rising and knew I was about to turn into an Atlanta Housewife. However, nothing I've done or said equals the dirty deeds of Madam President, other board members, and the property manager. I haven't, for instance, tried to force other people to paint homes that do not need painting while not painting my own home. And I can't imagine participating in a scheme to invalidate an election, to prevent the people who were elected from serving on the board while staying on myself, knowing that the community had rejected me.
When I attended the last board meeting (and probably the last ever for me), Madam President complained that I had called her a racist, and my white female next door neighbor, who had initially been an ally but switched sides, accused me of calling Madam President a bitch. I don't remember using the b-word as I was exiting, although I was certainly thinking it. But so what? As I said in an e-mail to the unelected, illegal, all-white board, I prefer being called a racist to being oppressed by racism, and I prefer being called a bitch to being attacked by a bitch. I might have added that calling someone racist should not be as objectionable as being a racist and calling someone a bitch should be considered more polite than being a bitch.
Like Bill Maher and other comedians, I'm sick of all of the fake outrage over every crude comment and every politically incorrect joke. We need to focus on the real problems--racism and bitchery. This working-class "hood rat" might not always use the right words at the right time, but I am infinitely more moral than the three privileged white people who are illegally occupying the HOA board, preventing this elected black woman from serving, so that they can use their power to harass and mistreat our diverse community.
Although he's crude and gross, I'd rather be Rosedale than any of the high society folks that looked down their noses at him and cut Lily Bart when she was no longer in their circle. I'd rather have bad manners than bad morals.
