“Certain nuances escape Beaufort.” — Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence
Dear Etiquetteer:
Last night, I attended a masked ball gala with a live swing band. One of my dance partners started out fun, but quickly became presumptuous. He kissed my hand after our first dance. He asked to see my unmasked face, so I briefly pulled the mask up on my forehead. But then he repeatedly insisted that I should take it off and leave it off. I kept saying “No;” he kept begging and wheedling me. He seemed not to understand the subtext, that I was interested in dancing but not in further intimacy — after several minutes of arguing about my mask, he kissed his own fingers and laid them on my cheek!
Finally I said I did not wish to dance with him again, and also told him “When you won’t take No as an answer from a woman, even about something minor, it makes her feel like you’re not safe to be around.”
I believe what I said is true, and could even be helpful to him in future if he takes the lesson to heart — but I also know it was very blunt and perhaps verging on rudeness. What is the proper way to respond to a dance partner who commits such violations of propriety himself?
Dear “A Swing Dancer, Not a Swinger:”
You behaved with Perfect Propriety as well as a certain amount of forbearance. While the presence of masks traditionally encourages unbridled freedom — think of Carnival in Venice — “No means No” is more generally accepted as a Stern Warning than a Clandestine Invitation now, or should be. Etiquetteer cannot fault your behavior at all. In fact, you updated “Sir, you are no gentleman” for this century. It is so often the impulse of those who are being harrassed to get out of the situation gracefully. But with an aggressor who Just Does Not Get It, complete candor as you expressed it is sometimes necessary. Etiquetteer salutes you.
There is so much to unpack here, from notions of gallantry and flirtation to forgotten ballroom manners. To begin with, and Etiquetteer cannot remember who said it first, introducing strangers to dance does not constitute a social introduction. In other words, just because you’ve shared one dance at a ball doesn’t mean you can slide into each other’s DMs. Second, the whole point of a masked ball is to remain masked until the time of unmasking. That used to be midnight, and if 21st-century maskers just can’t stand one more minute and remove their masks ten minutes after arrival . . . well, Etiquetteer thinks that’s Letting Down the Side but must perforce accept it.
So you were within your rights to remain masked when your Importunate Partner asked to see your face. Antique fiction has given us a picture of ladies fending off the “begging and wheedling” of Importunate Gentlemen with smiles and laughter and sly glances, and perhaps a gentle rapping with her fan. But that dainty picture is based on two things: a lady’s true desire to encourage the gentleman, and a gentleman’s awareness that he really Must Not Go Too Far. In this century, those illusions have disappeared. That mask has been removed.
The hand kiss — outside certain diplomatic or religious rituals and the city of Vienna — has become entirely artificial and insincere, a gesture of mock manners, of “aping our betters.” It’s often risky to turn to the movies for examples of Perfect Propriety*, but if you’re going to do that it’s better to imitate Anton Walbrook in The Red Shoes than Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. For your Importunate Partner to kiss your hand after a first dance is forward.
More seriously, the real mask that’s been removed is that women no longer need to tolerate unwelcome attention because it might reflect badly on them. The days when English novelist Arnold Bennett could say “Make love to every woman you meet. If you get five percent on your outlay it’s a good investment” are over. And so are the days when it could be assumed that all relationships were male-female and that the aggressor would be male.
Not long ago Etiquetteer was watching Jennie, Lady Randolph Churchill, who was given a stinging riposte by screenwriter Julian Mitchell. Being preyed on by a dancing partner at a masked ball, Jennie (played by Lee Remick), pulled away and said “I don’t know what class of woman you normally consort with, Lord Hardwick, but, I’m afraid your experience with them can be of no use to you at all with me.” Powerful words . . . but did they achieve the desired effect?
Etiquetteer wishes you many happy nights of dancing with talented and respectful partners.
*And yet that never seems to stop Etiquetteer . . . 🧐.