Like millions of others I have learned to dance during the lockdown. Well, that is not quite true. I must show more modesty. I am more at home (or I was once) in an eight than in a ball-room. I thoroughly approve of sit-down sport. No, what I have actually done in the current emergency is to learn steps that used to be part of an 18th century gentleman's education. And what has motivated me? Social distancing. Have you noticed the self-conscious way in which we avoid one another? We make cautious foot movements to keep out of the way of somebody coming towards us on a footpath. We manoeuvre ourselves with more or less dignity to ensure that as we conduct a conversation we do not break the rules. We perform stately movements as though we were rehearsing a minuet.
This, you might say, is quite jolly. It brings into the daily life of 21st century England a measure of grace that used to be part of courtly behaviour. Who knows? Before long we may be practising the bow and the curtsey. We males may again spring to our feet when a lady enters the room. We may open the door for her or get a drink for her. We may address newly introduced strangers with the time-honoured formula 'How do you do?' We may make sure that we assure visitors that it has been a pleasure to meet them and we make sure to use their name, forename or surname as appropriate, in the course of conversation.
In brief, lockdown may have improved our manners. It may have given a boost to the minuet rather than the Greek sirtaki. But the well-mannered Greek dance predates social distancing and disqualifies itself in a lockdown that requires us to shun human contact. It seems we may have forsaken the habits of a busy digital society and imbibed something of the days of Jane Austen or Roger de Coverley. Perhaps there has been gain as well as loss in the lockdown. And the lockdown has included the enduringly adorable voice of Vera Lynn singing 'We'll meet again.' It's not all bad.
Our improved manners? I find myself thinking of the correct manner in which St Paul reacted in Jerusalem as he was on his way to Rome and got mixed up in a riot. Courteously Paul asked the army officer on duty who had arrested him and put him in shackles if he might say a word. Keen to quell a riot, the officer gave Paul leave to speak. A further outbreak of rioting led the officer have Paul readied for a flogging. Paul asked courteously: 'Does the law allow you to flog a Roman citizen, and an unconvicted one at that?' The colonel immediately realised that he had over-stepped the mark and might find himself being asked awkward questions. Courtesy pays off.
Meanwhile I minuet along like every well-mannered citizen in lockdown.
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