How to be a Brit

as a compliment; by now I
have learnt to call people rude only when I want to flatter them. Yet the
English are fighting a losing battle. With an effort they may manage to be
silly, lazy, indolent, selfish, and obstinate; now and then they may even
manage to be cruel. But rude? Never.

II. OLD ENGLISH
     

HOW TO TAKE YOUR PLEASURE SADLY
     
    I do not know how the silly
phrase ‘the English take their pleasures sadly’ originated. Slavs take their
pleasures sadly. A Russian cannot really enjoy himself without sobbing for an
hour or two on another Slavonic bosom. But Englishmen? They, in their moments
of pleasure, may be unemotional, shy, phlegmatic — but sad? Oh no, not sad.
    The English, instead of
taking their pleasures sadly, endure them bravely, in a spirit worthy of their
Puritan ancestors. I often imagine a modem Grand Inquisitor summoning an
Englishman and sending him on a normal summer holiday. He pronounces sentence:
    ‘One: tomorrow morning you
will get into your car and take twelve and a half hours to cover a four-hour
journey. The journey back will take you fifteen hours and the fumes will nearly
choke you.
    ‘Two: when you reach your
destination, you will queue up twelve times a day: three times for ice-cream,
twice for deck-chairs, three times for beer, once for tea, twice for swings for
the children and once just for the hell of it.
    ‘Three: whenever you feel
unbearably hot, I order you to accept the additional torture of drinking hot
tea.
    ‘Four: when it gets still
hotter, you will drive down to the seaside and sit in the oven of your car, for
two hours and a half.
    ‘Five: wherever you go,
there will never be less than two thousand people around you. They will shout
and shriek into your ear and trample on your feet and your only consolation
will be that you, too, trample on their feet. There is no escape from them. You
may try the countryside but the countryside, too, will be transformed into an
ever-lasting Bank Holiday fairground, strewn with paper bags and empty tins and
bottles. Furthermore, to add to your sufferings, I order you to take a portable
radio everywhere with you and listen to ‘Housewives’ Choice’ and ‘Mrs Dale’s
Diary’ incessantly!‘

    If all this were meted out
as dire punishment, proud, free Englishmen everywhere would rise against it as
they have always risen against foul oppression. But as, on top of it all, they
have to spend a whole year’s savings on these pleasures, they are delighted if
they can join the devotees anywhere.
    Britain has been the
marvel-country of the world for a long time. Many people used to regard her as
decadent, decaying and exhausted until they learned better. How has Britain
come out of her many trials, not only victorious but rejuvenated? The secret of
the British is very simple: if they can endure their summer holidays, they can
endure anything.

ON NOT KNOWING ENGLISH
     
    I think it is vital that I give some instructions concerning
the English language. I cannot do better than to repeat — with slight
alterations — what I have said on this subject before. 5
    When I was sent to England
in 1938 I thought I knew English fairly well. In Budapest my English proved
quite sufficient. I could get along with it. On arrival in this country, I
found that Budapest English was quite different from London English. I should not
like to seem biased, but I found Budapest English much better in many ways.
    In England I found two
difficulties. First: I did not understand people, and secondly: they did not
understand me. It was easier with written texts. Whenever I read a leading article
in The Times, I understood everything perfectly well, except that I
could never make out whether The Times was for or against something. In
those days I put this down to my lack of knowledge of English.
    The first step in my
progress was when people started understanding me while I still could not
understand them. This was the most talkative period of my life. Trying to hide
my shortcomings, I went on talking, keeping the conversation as unilateral as
possible. I reached the stage of intelligibility fairly quickly, thanks to a
friend of mine who discovered an important linguistic secret, namely that the
English mutter and mumble. Once we noticed a sausage-like thing in a shop
window marked pork brawn. We
mistook it for a Continental kind of sausage and decided to buy some for our
supper. We entered the shop and I said: ‘A quarter of pork brawn