One of the advantages to studying anthropology is to make the familiar exotic. This, in combination to having friends who are not English sometimes makes me realise just how remarkable English people are. Our quirks are unique. Everyday, mundane stuff we take for granted is actually rather bizarre to other people! There are many eccentricities the English have which are celebrated in our culture: self-deprecation; eccentricity; having a “stiff upper lip”; being good at queuing; our curious sense of humour... the list goes on. Other people would not see those English foibles as something to be proud of.
Class as we know it is exclusive to the English; it doesn’t have quite the same connotations in any other part of the world. The English evaluate class by heredity rather than money or jobs; i.e. what your parents are; you most likely are too. No-one thinks a “rich chav” is upper-class. The linguistic aspect of British English reflects this. Some examples of the class differences in language (among many others) are: loo/toilet, napkin/serviette, scent/perfume, sofa/couch, pardon/sorry/what. As a little girl, I was taught to say certain words rather than others because “saying pardon is so naff”.
Kate Fox, who wrote the layman’s anthropology book ‘Watching the English’, uses a brilliant example of garden gnomes. Her theory is that the English class system is split into upper class, upper-middle, middle-middle, lower-middle, and working class. Garden gnomes are viewed by the majority of English people as crass and tacky. A working class person might have a gardening gnome because they really do like them. The middle-middle and lower-middle classes would not have a garden gnome for fear of being mistaken for working-class. A member of the upper-middle class might own one as an ironic statement. A member of the upper-class, very secure in their status, would own a garden gnome because they do really like them.
The English disregard for appearance is rather anti-European. When I went to Rome two years ago, I was struck by the fastidious appearance of all the native Romans. For example, the women all wore stiletto heels - no mean feat in a city covered in cobbled pavements - and men donned jackets, even under the oppressive August sun. One morning, I woke up early and was walking along the street; I noticed two women jogging. They had perfectly coiffed hair, pearl earrings and full make-up on, despite their running clothes. When I go running in the park, I - in common with my fellow joggers - have the following: bed hair, old T-shirts, holey leggings, and/or yesterday’s makeup. This isn’t just a one-off; going to the corner shop, often people are in their pyjamas (with a coat to cover it up!). Personally, I love it. Not having to dress up every time I leave the house is an absolute godsend. I think that not getting gussied up all the time makes one appreciate it all the more when actually making the effort. Primping and preening in front of the mirror shouldn’t be a daily occurrence.
Ultimately? I am proud to be English. I love the fact that we think we are the best nation in the world; looking down on the Americans as being too loud and obnoxious, the French as being smelly and rude, the Italians as too flamboyant und so weiter.
[picture by Kevin Lyons]
