PITY THE POOR ENGAGED!

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 678, 1 June 1929, Page 2 (Supplement)

PITY THE POOR ENGAGED!

Life Worse Than a Circus ... An Avalanche of Advice And a Deluge of Questions . . . The Incessant Telephone Bell . . .

NGAGED couples and liSrS'S/S) children receive the cv'ftrl ,J. rl same treatment from society at large. That • jggjjjSj ronised, joked about, pampered, expected to show off, and generally made the subject of an unnatural and often embarrassing attention (writes Magdalen King-Hall in the “Daily Chronicle"). Both engaged couples and children are placed, through no real fault of their own, in similarly false positions. For some obscure reason a fictitious glamour surrounds them. The world is full of engaged couples and full of children, but this does not deter the disengaged and the grown-up from treating' these unfortunates with the tolerant homage that I understand is the attitude adopted iu the East toward the insane.

At the same time engaged couples and children are not privileged in this way for what they are so much as for what they will become. Long engagements are not generally approved of. A successful attempt that was made by a couple of my acquaintance to prolong the innocent joys of courtship by having a betrothal that lasted for twenty-odd years was frowped upon by relations and friends alike! Meet My Fiasco!

The same argument applies to children. Grown-ups sometimes indulge in sentimental regrets about the lost delights of childhood, but, all the same, every parent is really engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle with their off-spring, the object of which is to inculcate into them as quickly and painlessly as possible the manners and customs of an adult world.

Engaged couples, in fact, are merely married couples iu embryo, and children (for all the talk about trailing clouds) are only undeveloped growu-ups. They are neither fish, flesh, nor good red herring, and the sensitive among them feel their position, very keenly! The humiliation of children is a more prolonged one, but the mental sufferings of the engaged are more intense while they last. Why, the poor wretches are not even allowed a proper name to shelter themselves behind, but are obliged to borrow

“fiance” from across the channel —a word that becomes “fiasco” on the lips of the facetious, while the parlourmaid wall very likely change it into, “Here’s your finance come to see you, miss”!

Almost the worst part about an engagement is the sudden shattering of that secrecy that is one of the most agreeable ingredients of a romance! No wonder that many newly betrothed couples keep the announcement of their engagement out of the newspapers for a few days, instinctively demanding a breathing space before the avalanche of public congratulation descends upon them. Quite soon enough their mutual affection is dragged out into the open to be rejoiced or quarrelled over, commented upon, observed, patted on the back and made the subject of innumerable witticisms. If they stay away together they are

treated as though they were a pair of sacred lunatics, all present flying from the room the moment that they j enter it, leaving them in self-conscious j possession. Yet it is actually more , difficult to enjoy the company of the | object of one’s affection during an j engagement than at any other tune. J Dressmakers, photographers, confec- j tioners, hairdressers, house-decoraters J descend upon the bewildered '’fiance” j in a shower of circulars. There is a cold-blooded commercialism about their attentions that is disagreeable to the romantic-minded!

The telephone bell rings incessantly. Letters arrive not in posts but in shoals. If they failed to arrive the engaged couple would be mortally offended. As it is, they feel flattered, and also faint but unmistakable symptoms of writer’s cramp! Perhaps born letter-writers enjoy the gigantic epistolary effort entailed by

an engagement, but born letter-writers are a rare (some maintain a practically extinct) species. The average person, after thanking for the fiftieth present, is reduced to a humiliating orgy of “verys” and “so muchs.” “It was so very kind of you to send me the very charming ink-pot. It will be so very useful. Thank you so very, very much.” Gratitude (for engaged couples often are deeply grateful for their wedding presents, though their letters would hardly lead one to suppose so) struggles piteously in a weary tangle of words! To those again who dislike answering questions, an engagement is a time of trial. “When are you getting married?” “Where are you getting married?” “Where are- you going to live?” How kind of the inquirer to want to know! How natural that they should ask! How tiresome to have to answer! Or, rather, how tiresome to have to answer again and again and again. It is amusing the first time of asking to explain that the ceremony is taking place in Norfolk, that the bridesmaids are to wear rose taffeta, that one hopes to set up house in

Hong- Kong or off High Street, Kensington. but ■with constant repition these important facts become as boring to tell as they doubtless are to hear. Then as well as the answering of questions, there is the receiving of advice. Engaged couples are the natural prey of advice-givers. Advice about trousseaux, advice about household crockery, advice about marriage (“the greatest of all adventures,*" as some ominously term it>, advice about having children, advice about not having children, about flats and decorating and cooking and honey moons and life insurance and face creams. All of which must be accepted graciously and jotted dow n in a notebook with many false oaths that it will be acted upon. Worse Than a Circus An outcry is made from time to time about the sufferings of performing animals, but who ever writes to

the Press about the exploitation of engaged couples? Are they not made to perform iu public for the benefit of their acquaintances? No bear riding a bicycle or elephant saying its prayers in a circus could possibly feel more ridiculous than an engaged couple at a party.

Their position is one that it would take the lordly elephant indeed to sustain with dignity! If they gaze into each other’s eyes they are liable to look rather brainless, if they refrain from gazing they look heartless. Unless their faces are wreathed in perpetual smiles grave doubts are certain to be entertained with regard to their future happiness. Yet it is useless to plead for a more humane treatment of affianced persons, because in this case humane treatment on the part of their friends would simply amount to unsympathetic indifference, and, disconcerting as it is to be fussed over, it is still more disconcerting to be ignored No! enamoured young couples must continue to pass hand in hand through the fiery ordeal of an engagement, philosophically looking upon it as a salutary preparation for matrimony—a sort of Purgatory before Paradise!