Remember the vogue for trivia books in the mid-1970s? Etiquetteer just rediscovered a junior high school-era paperback of The Book of Lists by the Wallace/Wallechinsky family, a bubbling cauldron of interesting tidbits on everything from uninhabited islands to the greatest wrestlers of all time to people known to have tried mariani wine. More to the point, it included a chapter of lists from distinguished people of who they would invite to dinner from all history. And it got Etiquetteer to thinking who might make up an interesting dinner party from all history of people who know something about etiquette and/or entertaining.
How on earth to choose? The late Joan Crawford provides a helpful foundation in her My Way of Life: “The best parties are a wild mixture. Take some corporation presidents, add a few lovely young actresses, a bearded painter, a professional jockey, your visiting friends from Brussels, a politican, a hairdresser, and a professor of physics, toss them all together, and try to get them to stop talking long enough to eat!” She continues, “It’s especially important to have all age groups. I’ve never noticed any generation gap . . . all the young people I know are bright and attractive and have something to say.” Of course these days corporation presidents often are lovely young actresses, but you get the point — everyone’s not cut from the same cloth.
Etiquetteer’s other criterion was the size of the table, fourteen. With a dinner party larger than that, brisk, vigorous general conversation gets put at risk. It’s also the Perfectly Proper size for the second-floor President’s Dining Room at the White House, the most enduring innovation of the late Jacqueline Kennedy. But it did make choosing the guest list very difficult. You’ll find, impossible as it may seem, that neither Joan nor Jackie is there.
So here’s Etiquetteer’s “wild mixture:”
As a bachelor, Etiquetteer needs a good hostess at the head of his table, which means Eleanor of Aquitaine. Queen Eleanor knew how to impose good behavior on those around her, and besides, she made the tablecloth a standard feature for a dinner table set with Perfect Propriety.
To Etiquetteer’s right, where protocol would put the ranking lady, Mary, Queen of Scots. Queen Mary liked a good time, and she had been brought up in the French court with discerning taste. And anyone being condemned by that tedious John Knox for “joyousities” is likely to be fun to have around! It will be necessary to seat her with a clear view to any entrances, to avoid any flashback to that unfortunate supper party at Holyrood.
Major Archibald Butt, now remembered chiefly for drowning on the Titanic, was also deeply knowledgeable about protocol and entertaining, and the social backbone of the Taft Administration. He was also a man who loved women — from a safe distance — and would be able to bring out the best in the ladies present, and they in him. Besides, Etiquetteer wants to know just how close his friendship was with Frank Millet . . .
Then, considering social lions of Washington, Dolley Madison. Dolley almost singlehandedly forged Washington society into something vigorous and valuable with her Wednesday night receptions. As Margaret Bayard Smith recorded, “it would be absolutely impossible for any one to behave with more perfect propriety than she did.” What greater endorsement might be needed? Etiquetteer could only hope that she’d put off taking any snuff until after the last course.
Anthony Fauci, the most lionized scientist of the era, also just looks like he’d be a lot of fun to hang around with. Why not?
Emily Post, the grandmother of all American etiquette writers, “wore her honors lightly” and could keep everyone Perfectly Proper without the grandeur of Queen Eleanor. Etiquetteer grew up reading her delightful masterpiece Etiquette and just can’t imagine her not being there.
Rupert Brooke, the World War One poet, satisfies Joan Crawford’s criteria both for young people and for “bearded painters,” which Etiquetteer is stretching to include all art forms. Besides, we know from The Lion in Winter that Queen Eleanor loved “music and poetry and the young men who made both . . . “
Continuing on the other side of the table, at Queen Eleanor’s right, the ranking male guest would be Baldassare Castiglione, author of The Book of the Courtier, a very popular guide for Perfectly Proper Political Politeness in its era . . . before it was banned. He and Eleanor could compare notes!
To his right, America’s youngest poet laureate Amanda Gorman. Like most of America, Etiquetteer fell in love with her last week at the inauguration. Such poise, such an incisive imagination! Anything further would expose Etiquetteer for the Amanda Fanboy he really is. Ms. Gorman makes a refreshing counterpoint to Rupert Brooke on the other side of the table.
Lucius Beebe, that distinguished gourmand and author, loved good food, drink, and company — not just good, the best. He’d be keeping us all up the mark, but Amanda Gorman would be keeping him up to the mark.
Rita Lydig, “the fabulous Mrs. Lydig,” prodigal and improvident collector of fine art, textiles, and especially exquisite shoes. A fine practitioner of the art of living, but alas, not of financial management, she could converse intelligently on every subject. Etiquetteer hopes she’ll wear one of those backless evening gowns she introduced to New York.
Bernardo Buontalenti, a true Renaissance man of the Renaissance: architect, stage designer, painter, and the inventor of gelato.
Michelle Obama, former First Lady, a Perfectly Proper exemplar of American style, in terms of both entertaining and fashion, and nutrition.
That leaves Etiquetteer between Mrs. Obama, and wanting to draw her out on gardening and White House interior design, and Queen Mary, and wanting to draw her out on embroidery and her naughty second husband Lord Darnley.
Etiquetteer will have to have a good consult with Millicent Fenwick’s Vogue Book of Etiquette on the menu, as well as Last Dinner on the Titanic, but it will be a challenge navigating between Mr. Beebe’s need for perfection and Mrs. Obama’s focused interest on healthy eating. The fruit course would certainly have to include breadfruit — an allusion to Rupert Brooke’s visit to Tahiti and his affair there — and Sgr. Buontalenti’s crema come una volta, the original gelato recipe.
Soon, a quick column on who didn’t receive an invitation, and why!