If I should die, think only this of me

My favorite TV show CSI has taught me about the chemical and genetic program that is my body; now Kate Fox has done the same for my soul (for want of a better word) through her entertaining book "Watching The English". The Oxford academic has produced a anthropological guide to the English –- our behavior, our language, our obsessions –- and done so in excellent, self-deprecating prose (she is English, after all). It is, however, incredibly disconcerting to realize that you are little more than an aggregation of national archetypes, to see your own foibles and conversational norms laid bare on the page. And even more upsetting to know that Johnny Foreigner has now been clued in to all our (dirty) little secrets.

Let’s see what she says is deeply ingrained in the English psyche:
The orderly queue of one? Guilty.
Passive-aggressive complaining? You have read my other entries, haven't you? And as further evidence, I am reluctant to give the address to my Dutch colleagues/friends in case they take offence.
Alcohol as a social disinhibitor? Oh, yes.
Love of animals? Yep. Replacement for “real”, warm relationships? Sure. Communication through them? But of course!
Negative politeness and the awkward start that this means for relationships? Been there, done that!
The need for privacy and yet compulsive curtain-twitching? I present my love of baking and celebrity gossip.

What else? Ah –- the embarrassment of money talk! Just over a week ago, we spent a lovely evening with a couple of fellow Brits in Boston, us complaining about the Dutch office; them responding with tales of woe about their real estate agent. At no point did they mention how much they were selling their property for, but on the plane home, PJ and I compared notes and had worked out the same price – based on one casual reference to how much their agent would make on the deal, and another, earlier complaint about the percentage that an agent takes.* And while we do talk about property values, whole dinner parties are built around describing the amount you might make or lose in percentage, not absolute, terms -– to state the actual amount would be, well, just not on.

While this book has made me very self-conscious –- I now find it impossible to talk about the weather with friend, fellow editor, and lender of the book Bill without hearing my inner voice chastise me (and without noticing a corresponding grin on his face) –- it has also made me understand why I respond to other people and nationalities as I do. It's not because I'm intolerant or impatient: It's cultural programming! The references to the importance of not being earnest were a real eye-opener; as I read, I realized that the people who infuriate me most at work are those that are overly serious about what they do and completely lacking in a sense of humor about themselves -- both of which are completely abhorrent to the English.

So, I'm a pun-loving, queue-obsessed, class-sensitive, gossip-adoring English woman -- and proud of it (but not in an overly extreme or earnest way).

* No, I’m not going to tell you the price! Mind your own business!