TABLE TALK
God's country?
DENIS BROGAN
Washington—I had been out of the United States for fourteen months when the topless towers of Manhattan last week .appeared faintly out of heavy mist (or light fog). It had been a long absence for me; I hadn't been out of the United States for so long an interval since one period during the war, and so I was able to recover some of the freshness of view that is the prerogative of the innocent traveller. I had come out in the 'France', having failed to get a cabin on QE2 which I should have preferred. I have nothing against the 'France', an admir- able and admirably run ship. But I had made one of the very last trips in the old oEl and had been distressed by all the breakdowns, false starts, all the controver- sies over what to do with the relics of the Queens and all the gimmickry of their sale. Macaulay's New Zealander could not have foreseen, not merely the broken arches of London Bridge but their sale to Arizona recalling the famous French joke at the expense of the bridge over the Manzanares at Madrid. 'Why don't you sell the bridge or buy a river?'
A good many of the returning pilgrims in the 'France' had gone out (i.e. east) on the QE2 and I was delighted to learn that they had greatly liked her when she finally got to sea. But I was astonished to discover that, just as Cunard had let down its excessively stiff upper lip and now permits its passengers to roam like so many deer and antelope over all parts of the ship, the French Line, once so democratic with a policy of la carriere ouverte aux talents, now insists on class divisions with a truly British rigour. I was travelling first class (not, I hasten to add, at my own expense) but from long experience I knew that there would be plenty of people in cabin class who would be at least as entertaining and intellectually more profitable than my better-heeled fellow passengers in first. This again turned out to be true. I met, for example, an Oxford-trained Roumanian, who was studying the Dracula legend in Transylvania and who was delighted to make a convert to the reality of Count Dracula. Indeed, I was told, and believed,
that every castle in Transylvania had its Dracula, and as its present Communist government wants to encourage tourism, it could have an equivalent of the Arthurian congresses that bring academics and the faithful to Cardiff, Cadbury, Camelot, etc.
But while it was fairly easy to enter the Cabin class from First, it was impossible to get out of it back to the First. I was forced, again and again, to ask a steward to unlock a door, a humiliating experience for a veteran of ignoring class barriers on the great ships. Is the Sixth Republic deliberately building up class barriers? The French are certainly studying class barriers with a Saint-Simonian zeal. I read in the main Socialist paper of Provence last spring an answer to a sartorial-cum- ideological problem that recalled to me such givers of the American social law as Abigail van Buren and Anne Landers. An instituteur asked for instructions as to what headgear he should wear taking account of (a) his socialist beliefs and (b) his official position. He was answered with a firmness that neither Tribune nor the Sun could have equalled. The law was laid down. It was hypocritical to wear a cap (casquette) as he was not a real worker (ouvrier). (None of the 'workers by hand and brain' non- sense, be it noted.) It would be a betrayal of socialism to wear a hat (chapeau); the proper headgear, with all the variables allowed for, was a beret. There was no suggestion of the Phrygian cap.
If any of the stewards of the 'France' spiritually wore a Phrygian cap, I didn't notice. My bedroom steward was a large, blond, bland, good-mannered Norman. He would have made an admirable butler for Blandings Castle. The dining room stewards were Normans, too, but not so magnificent. The service was excellent, even better than the good service my wife and I got on the old 'Queen Elizabeth' last year, not to speak of the unspeakable service I have suffered on the 'Queen Mary'.
But it was not only the service in the ship that was excellent. I had learned with apprehension that the New York customs inspectorate had been reorganised again. Nut it has been, and the manners and efficiency of the inspectors have immensely improved. (Southampton a Heathrow, please note.) There was the us scarcity of porters, but after a small had told me he had no right to ban my luggage and that I must take one of regular porters (all of whom were pond ing affairs of state), he agreed to get luggage down to the street where he wo get me a cab. This involved my gets to the street by one escalator and disappearance down a staircase. He m have cleared off with my luggage but didn't. Perhaps the United States does w to encourage foreign tourists?
Perhaps it was this joyous entry that irr New York seem less dirty than usual a the people less surly. Perhaps I was affec by a visit to the offices of Esquire ( magazine for men, unlike Playboy, uh is naturally a magazine for boys). Ben American college-bred secretaries go, th Esquire girls were exceptional (they di recall the Playmates, but what girls do But I was to pay for my refusal while the 'France' to read the one-sheet newspa or listen to the TV news bulletins either French or English. I arrived totally in cent about the world situation. So nob had explained why there were so m, mounted police in new style blue st helmets; why there were platoons of e everywhere, or why some cops and so obvious plainclothes men seemed to casing a celebrated joint. I learned, whe finally got a taxi. The President was %I ing the United Nations. There were n signs of the visit than just the coy company of protesting semi-hippies marching up Madison Avenue cam instructions to the President to get Americans out of Vietnam. (He was a advised to get lost himself.) Nobody sees angered, amused or seriously interest Perhaps the protesters weren't hippy enou (They were nearly all white, too.) The f of the girls were bare but clean. The bea of the young men were not impressive. were the voices very clear. The manes Ho Chi Minh were saluted but I cou quite make out the salute. Ho was—L Aloft? Loved? I decided not to sp more time studying.
I also decided to fly to Washing although I am told there is now a train running to that city. I found mys for the first time for years, at La Gua not at Kennedy Airport, but failed, at fl to identify the eponymous hero whose b apart from showing him shaved (as ind he was) recalled the bust of the God of Sea at Shannon Airport. La Guardia been redone and is now a highly attrac airport but differs from Kennedy in s odd ways. Why does it sell so much cut some apparently deadly?
So I saw again, below me, the bu over fields around New York, the more astonishing bridges (so much greatest of American architectural achi ments). My neighbour was a very army officer who dumped his huge not quite on my feet but apologised ge He began to read United States News I noticed, cynically, that beside it, pre ably to be taken up soon, was a paper no doubt bosoms and bottoms on the c To confirm my cynicism I peeped. the very young and innocent officer combat ribbons) was turning to read Crime and Punishment. Maybe the U.11 States isn't 'going to hell in a handcart if it is, what better guide than Dostolos
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